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10051295	I Wont Send Roses	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by frances potter [archived by HPFandom_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2007-10-21T00:00:00", "words": "3,083", "Additional Tags": "Slash sex, Sexual Content, Romance", "Relationship": "Harry Potter/Severus Snape", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "HPFandom", "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 Won’t Send Roses I won’t send roses or hold the door • I won’t remember which dress you wore • My heart is too much in control • The lack of romance in my soul will turn you grey, kid • So stay away, kid • Forget my shoulder when you’re in need • Forgetting birthdays is guaranteed • And should I love you, you would be the last to know • I won’t send roses • And roses suit you so. ---Severus Snape isn’t a demonstrative person. He would never dream of kissing his lover in public or touching him in the view of others, and he abhors overly sentimental people. He hasn’t always been like this.As a child, Severus had been an affectionate boy, but by the time he went to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as an eleven-year-old, he had learned that it was safer to keep his feelings to himself. His father showed him little warmth, but then Tobias Snape was a Muggle and had made it quite clear he resented his son’s magical abilities. His mother had been more loving, but only when his father wasn’t about. Even the family cat would bite and scratch should Severus try to stroke it.He still isn’t overly fond of cats and he knows that romance is most definitely for others and not for an ex-Death Eater who sold his soul many years ago and has been trying to buy it back ever since.Someone recently told him that he’s just denying the fact that he actually does want affection in his life and that it is the lack of that very thing which has turned him into the cantankerous man that he now is. Even though there might be some truth in this, Severus would never admit it to anyone, least of all the person who had said it to him. He had loved someone once and thought his feelings were reciprocated, but she hadn’t cared and he had learned that sometimes the opposite of love wasn’t hate, but indifference. He isn’t interested in ever opening himself up to the possibility of that kind of humiliation again. Severus has made many mistakes in his life; becoming a Death Eater was one such error and swearing a binding oath to Albus Dumbledore was another. But quite possibly the very worst mistake he has made so far is to let the author of those words -- one Harry James Potter -- share his bed.The boy (Severus still thinks of Potter as ‘the boy’ even though he’s almost twenty-five years old, he tries never to think of him as ‘Harry’ because that’s just too personal) should have been sorted into Slytherin. The way Potter managed to finagle himself not only into Severus’ life, but into his bed as well, really is characteristic of someone from his own House.It all started years ago when the truth about Dumbledore’s fake death had become common knowledge. One could only fool the Dark Lord so many times before he became just a tad suspicious, so Severus had finally given up being a spy and returned to the Order. It was then that Potter started hanging around him.A lot.He’d assumed, of course, that Potter was interested in Draco Malfoy (it was common knowledge that both boys were gay). Draco was another of Severus’ mistakes, or at least Narcissa’s unbreakable vow had been. He’d fulfilled his vow to save Draco from the Dark Lord, but this had lead to other ... complications. Draco had attached himself to Severus in those early months, clearly unsure of his own place in the Order. But it had soon become clear that while Potter did find Draco attractive, it was his one-time Potions Master that he was actually drawn to.Severus still struggles to understand this display of affection from Potter. He’d shown the boy nothing but contempt while he had been at Hogwarts and all but ignored him during the war ... all five interminably long years of it.Yet Potter had always been there, like a silent shadow. It wasn’t puppy-dog devotion -- the Slytherin in Potter was too clever for that -- the boy had been much more cunning in his pursuit. He seemed to be everywhere. If Severus went into a room, the boy would be there, nodding politely at him before effectively ignoring him and continuing with whatever he had been doing. But Severus found himself watching Potter to the point of frustration -- the way he would chew on his bottom lip until it was red and full, or how he would play absently with a lock of hair, twisting it round and round his finger incessantly until Severus had no choice but to leave.The war had been very, very long in so many ways.It has been eighteen months since Potter ended the war -- eighteen months since the boy first crawled into his bed and changed everything.He still can’t quite work out why he hadn’t just thrown the brat out straight away. Maybe it’s the way the boy looks at him with those damnable green eyes; they can burn deeper into a person’s soul than any Dark Mark, but whatever it is, it has sealed his fate well and truly. Or maybe it’s because Potter has shown him how wonderfully innocent sex can be. By no means a novice with either gender, Severus has always used his carnal knowledge as much as a weapon as for pleasure. But with Potter he’s found the delight of sex for sheer pleasure again rather than just using it for some ulterior motive. And Potter keeps coming back for more no matter what Severus does to dissuade him, which he does virtually every time the boy turns up for another sexual encounter. Potter is, he reminds himself, young enough to be his own son. He should be with one of his contemporaries, not with a man who is nearly twice his age. He should be with someone who cares.---Severus isn’t sure when he starts to think of Potter as ‘Harry’, and it worries him slightly. First names are intimate; they speak of friendship and affection. Potter sometimes calls him ‘Sev’ in the throes of passion and he enjoys the intimacy of the secret name.And he’s finding himself looking forward more and more to the boy’s visits. He wonders what worries him more; the fact that he is finally admitting to himself that he actually does care for the boy or the fear that Harry might one day get bored with him and leave.He wonders what being alone again will feel like.---He’s in bed now, hoping for a quiet, restful night after a particularly long day’s teaching. Valentine’s Day at Hogwarts has always been hard work and this year, the first since the school reopened, is no different. Students lost all sense of proportion and the castle had been full of floating hearts and people holding hands.He’s just drifting off when there’s a light tap on his bedroom door and then it opens just enough for a messy dark head to poke round. He doesn’t need to look to know who it is because his chambers are carefully warded so only a few select people can enter without his permission. He’s considered several times warding them against Harry, and as he watches the boy come into his room now he tries to think of him as ‘Potter’ again.Just as he decides it might be working, Harry smiles at him; a small almost shy smile that Severus knows is guaranteed to bring his flaccid penis to life.He’s tempted to turn over and deliberately ignore the boy but, as always, there is something about Harry Potter that gets beneath his skin. So instead, he pulls himself up a little until he’s half sitting back against the mound of pillows (pillows are a luxury and he enjoys having several).“I don’t recall inviting you here tonight.” His voice is deliberately terse, as if the mere fact that Harry being in his room is an affront to his dignity.Harry either deliberately ignores or doesn’t get the tone and with a shrug he starts to unbutton his shirt. “It’s manic out there tonight.” He hooks a thumb in the general direction of the Great Hall above them and the shirt gapes open a little, showing tanned flesh and a dusting of dark hair.Severus isn’t overly fond of chest hair, but on Harry it looks good -- the dark hair covers a small area between his nipples and is shaped like an almost perfect equilateral triangle. It narrows into a thin line that goes down, past the inviting hollow of Harry’s navel to broaden out into another delta around the boy’s genitals. He likes to play with the hair, to twist it in his fingers and to lick and suck at it and feel Harry buck beneath him.It comes as a shock to realise he can actually picture Harry’s skin in such exquisite detail. The boy continues, completely unaware of the way he’s being studied. It’s one of the things Severus likes -- while some people play games Harry is just ‘Harry’ and what you see is what you get. “Were we that bad when we were students?”Severus tries hard not to smile as a quote from Dickens plays in his mind -- It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Potter and his year mates had been both a horror and a delight. It’s a shame so many of them never lived through the war.“You were the very bane of my existence, Mr Potter.” He’s just about to add, now go away and let me sleep, but the shirt falls to the ground like a discarded autumn leaf and he can see that bare chest and almost sense the muscles rippling beneath the skin. The boy likes to think of himself as slim, but Severus always sees him as skinny. He still looks like a teenager after a growth spurt -- all gangly arms and legs that he’s not quite sure what to do with. “I don’t recall inviting you here tonight,” he repeats, determined to retain some element of control over the proceedings. As much as Harry’s turning him on, he really isn’t in the mood for sex. He rolls his eyes and lets out a silent sigh. Heaven forbid that the boy wants to top; he has no intention of having his arse screwed tonight.Harry shrugs and unbuckles his belt. “I thought you might like some company.”“No.” He watches as nimble fingers make easy work of the button on the waistband and his own traitorous tongue licks at his lips. Damn the boy!The noise of the zip is overloud in the silent room and Harry’s trousers actually rustle as he pushes them over his slim hips and down his thighs. “I haven’t come for sex.” He hops about, trying to remove the trousers over his shoes and ends up with his back to Severus. The boy’s wearing tight white briefs and as he bends his arse points directly at Severus. He wonders whether the pose is deliberate because the pert globes are perfectly displayed in the material.Slytherin indeed.Harry reaches down to his feet now, bent almost double with the suppleness of youth. Severus can still touch his toes, but he much prefers someone else to touch them. “We can if you want, but that isn’t why I came.” Harry looks around his legs, head upside down now with his black hair hanging freely. His glasses have ridiculously slid up (or down) towards his forehead and he deftly plucks them off as he straightens, hair now spread about him like a dark halo. He shakes his head and the hair settles a little as he finally kicks his trousers off. “I thought we could ... you know ... talk.”Danger signals flash in Severus’ brain. Potter plus talking always leads to trouble. The boy probably has some sort of ridiculous plan that involves a public acknowledgement of their private liaison. Last time he just wanted to talk he’d asked if they could have breakfast together. Nothing obvious, just arriving in the Great Hall at the same time. Before that had been the suggestion to meet by the lake so they could walk together because “Let’s face it, Severus, you need some sunlight.” Potter just doesn’t seem to get that he will never win this battle. Severus will allow him to share his bed, but this is not a relationship.Harry finally turns, his briefs clinging to him like a second skin. Severus expects the boy to be hard (he normally is), but this time he isn’t. When he pads quickly to the bed and Severus realises there is something in his hand, and he hopes it isn’t what he thinks it is. Harry holds out the small parchment package.Severus has never received a Valentine’s gift in his life and he isn’t quite sure how to react if that’s what this is. Harry blushes a little, the colour just visible in the muted candlelight in the bedroom. “It’s nothing really, just....” He shrugs and waits.And waits.Finally Severus takes it, turning the package over and over in his hands. “Aren’t you going to open it?” Harry sits on the edge of the bed, one hand resting on Severus’ leg through the blankets.Inside is a small square of parchment folded in half. On the front is a real rosebud and inside written in Harry’s untidy scrawl it says simply For the Potions Master. Severus frowns as he picks up the small glass phial that’s inside the package and unstoppers it. He recognises the liquid immediately -- Rose Otto Rosa Damascena, one of the most expensive oils in the world. He looks up at the expectant face and wonders how Harry knows he’s run out and is having problems sourcing more.A frown crosses the boy’s face and his lip looks like it’s going to quiver. “It’s the wrong stuff, isn’t it?”“No ... no.” Severus quickly shakes his head. “It’s exactly right. Thank you.” He inhales the heady fragrance and finally lets a single drop fall onto his finger. Then carefully he rubs his thumb over the drop, spreading it a little before raising the digit and running it down Harry’s throat. As his finger finally reaches the little hollow, he pauses there to let the warmth release the scent. “Do you know it took thirty roses to make this one drop?” He can feel Harry swallow beneath his touch and the boy shivers as he shakes his head.“No.” The single word is a whisper and Harry’s eyes flutter closed before opening again. The black pupils are slightly dilated now and Severus is hard at the expression. “Am I worth it?”He raises an eyebrow and finally removes his finger. “Worth what?”“The thirty roses it took to make that drop.” Harry runs his fingers over the trail of oil and sniffs experimentally at them.Severus swallows as he carefully stoppers the phial and puts it safely on the bedside table. He knows he should answer, but for once he’s unsure of what to say. To agree would hint at more than he’d like to; to disagree would almost cruel. Instead he turns back the sheets. “Come to bed.”Harry contemplates him for a moment but finally climbs in and nestles against Severus’ side.He curls an arm around the slim body. Harry is so close he can feel his heart beating and he rests his hand over the corresponding spot on the boy’s back, fingers making small circles. “I have nothing for you,” he finally says. He means he has no Valentine’s gift for Harry, but the boy’s response seems to read a deeper significance to the words.“Yes you do. You let me come here.” Harry reaches up and kisses Severus on the lips. It isn’t a sexual kiss, but a gentle touch, one that makes Severus feel. He mentally pauses as a question flickers through his thoughts. Makes him feel what? As the kiss continues, Severus realises that Harry makes him feel, something he hasn’t done in many years.“And you’ve never treated me like someone special. To you I’ve just an ordinary person, not the Boy Who Lived or the Chosen One.” Harry snuggles into Severus’ neck. “Can I stay tonight?”Severus’ fingers are in Harry’s hair now, stroking gently. Harry usually goes back to his own rooms after they’ve had sex and Severus has always thought it’s because that’s what the boy wants, but perhaps that’s not true. Does he really want to wake with Harry in his bed? He continues stroking. “I can’t give you want you want, Harry.”“I’m not asking for anything, Severus.”“You should find someone else.”Harry sighs, the puff of breath warm against Severus’ neck. “Can I stay?” “Do I have a choice in the matter?”---Severus watches Harry sleep and wonders if he might have been wrong all these years. He thinks about the thirty roses and knows the boy is worth each and every petal. Reaching for the phial, he lets several drops fall onto his palm and inhales the fragrance. It is a heady scent and his eyes flutter closed momentarily as he wonders how many roses it has taken to make these few drops.He knows he will never use this oil for anything as mundane as potions making. This is for Harry, each and every drop.Carefully, so as not to disturb his young lover, he pushes his hand into Harry’s hair, the oil coating the dark silk.---Severus Snape isn’t a demonstrative person, but he touches his young lover in the view of others and might consider kissing him in public one day. He has even been known to secretly buy roses.He still abhors overly sentimental people. --- My pace is frantic, my temper’s cross • With words romantic I’m at a loss • I’d be the first one to agree that I’m preoccupied with me • And it’s inbred, kid, so keep your head, kid • In me you’ll find things like guts and nerve • But not the kind of things that you deserve • And so while there’s a fighting chance just turn and go • I won’t send roses • And roses suit you so. The lyrics (in italics) are from the song I Won’t Sent Roses, which is from the musical Mack & Mabel
10011626	when we get there	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Kara Danvers, Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers", "Fandom": "Supergirl (TV 2015)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by orphan_account", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-02-28T00:00:00", "words": "5,175", "Additional Tags": "Post-Episode: s02e12 Luthors", "Relationship": "Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor", "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 glad you’re okay.” Lena looks up, and oh, Kara’s looking at her with soft eyes, an even softer smile. (It’s funny how everything about her is that. Soft. Soft touches and glances, that little intake of breath whenever Lena brushes their hands together. A soft embrace, arms wrapped around her shoulders.It’s so opposite of what she’d think. Of what she knows Kara can be. So different from the sharp words she shared with her mother, from the grip on her as Kara flew them away from the explosion.She wonders if she just imagined Kara’s quick words I’ve got you, you’re okay.)Lena searches for words, because Kara’s just watching her quietly, and that’s all it takes for her to be overwhelmed. “Thank you.”Kara nods, a quick bob of the head, her feet replacing in the same spot. “Do you- do you need anything?”“No, I’m actually about to leave.” Kara’s shoulders fall with? Relief? Lena almost thinks she hears a good. “I’m just going to head home and pack.” That has Kara away from the door and right in front of her faster than she can blink. Careful, she thinks, because Kara makes this whole charade more difficult through acts like that. “You’re leaving?”“Yes? I-” Kara’s chest is heaving, and her eyes are wide. She’s afraid, and Lena admonishes herself for all of the two seconds it takes her to realize. (To be fair, she’s not used to this. To people caring. Not after Lex.She’s not used to someone believing in her wholeheartedly. To someone coming to her aid without her having to ask, especially when she doesn’t ask. To someone not wanting her to leave.)“Not permanently, Kara.” She reaches out with her hand, smiling despite herself when Kara automatically slips her fingers between hers. “There’s far too much here for me to do that.” If she forgot what hugging Kara feels like- and oh, honestly, how could she ever- but if, then Kara’s arms around her reminds her that it’s more than she ever could have imagined from a simple hug.(There’s nothing simple about it.Kara’s last hug had been arms braced around her shoulders as she did the same, a solid reassurance that Kara, Kara was there for her.Now, Kara’s fingers twist desperately in her shirt, pulling her close. Her heart racing under Lena’s palm when she places it over her chest to steady herself from the suddenness of it all.There’s a need to it. Not for anything she can give or get, but just-There’s a need for her.)Kara huffs a little at her cheek. “Sorry.” Kara’s fingers tighten in her shirt before drawing away. “Sorry,” she repeats. “After this week, that would’ve just-” She sucks in a quick breath, pressing a fist to her chest as she exhales heavily. “It’s fine.” Lena allows a quick smile, because oh, Kara still looks worried. “I quite enjoy it.” It pays off when Kara’s eyes widen, blinking a few times as a flush crawls up her throat. Her glasses have slid down, and Lena’s shocked again- not the first time this week- by how unusual a shade of blue her eyes are. (She doesn’t know how people can think Kara is anything but extraordinary when Kara looks at her like that.) Lena eases them back along the bridge of Kara’s nose, not missing the hand that almost settles on her waist but hovers there at the last second. “W-where are you going?”“The beach.” Endless blue sounds nice right now. The waves breaking against the sand. National City is wonderful- Lena can’t help but look at Kara as she thinks it- but she needs the quiet now.(She needs to regroup.Needs to be able to compartmentalize and push down being framed and kidnapped and left for dead by her mother. Or not.All in all, she needs to get away.) “I just thought a break was in order.”“No, yeah. You-” Kara laughs. “You definitely deserve it.” She glances toward the balcony, forehead creasing in thought. “A break sounds really nice.”“You could come.” Lena jerks backward and brings her hands together, twisting them around each other. That- that was not in the plans, but Kara was looking so, so tense and conflicted and maybe, maybe Lena can return the favor.(Maybe she can help.)Except that Kara hasn’t really reacted. Her mouth has dropped open, jaw working for a second before snapping shut. Lena drops her eyes to the floor, because Kara is her friend. Kara took the time to bring her donuts of all things and visit to make sure she’s okay, but that doesn’t mean Kara wants to spend more time with her.(Kara has a family. One that loves and supports her. There’s really no need for her to be around a Luthor any longer than she has to be.Lena can understand that.)Lena waves her hands. “I’m sorry. That was- it’s getting late Ms.Danvers, I really should-”Fingers circle around her wrist, easing her movements until she’s looking up to Kara. “I’d love to.” She swipes a thumb, just under her wrist and tilts her head. “If the offer still stands?” “Of course.” “You’re what?” Kara twirls her fingers around the drawstring bag, swings it by her legs as she groans. She was this close to being able to shout that and run out the door. (Nevermind actually being able to do that so fast Alex wouldn’t even know, but still, she likes to keep things fair.) “I’m going on a trip.” “I got that.” Alex raises a finger, draws a circle in the air. “The part before that.” “It was more after but okay.” Alex pinches her side. “Okay, okay. Lena invited me. I’m going with Lena.” “Where?” “The beach.” “Which one?” Kara freezes. “Um.” Okay, so maybe the details were a little, tiny bit murky. “I don’t know. The one with water? I don’t know Alex, it just- it sounded really nice.”Alex’s face softens, hands tugging her close to pull her into a hug. “Hey, that’s fine. You’re right. It honestly sounds great,” Alex wiggles her fingers against her stomach, “despite knowing absolutely nothing.” She hums. “What about work?”“I’ve got plenty of days, and Snapper gave me an article to work on anyway.” Alex gives her a wry grin. “What?”“Nothing, nothing.” Kara reaches over to take the bowl of chips right out of Alex’s grip and starts shoving them into her mouth. “I’d stress eat too if I was going on a trip with Lena Luthor on Valentine’s Day.” Kara swallows. She hadn’t really thought of that. “It’s not- we’re not. It just happened that way, and,” Kara holds up her finger, wags it, “that’s not till tomorrow when we’ll already be at the beach.”Alex rolls her eyes, but oh, it’s full of enough affection that Kara quietly passes back the chips. “Fine, you’ll be at the beach with Lena Luthor on Valentine’s Day.” “Right, yes. Okay.” Kara taps her foot, because she’s supposed to be meeting Lena and she’s definitely cutting it close. “I’m going now, okay?” “Have fun.” Alex hugs her again, and when she goes to pull away, Alex’s grip tightens, “Be safe. I know-” Kara makes to move away again, because she knows that tone but Alex keeps her there. “All I know is what she’s done, and it’s good. Still though, be safe.” “I trust her.” “I know,” Alex smiles then, grip easing off her shoulders, “and I trust you, so go. Knowing you, you’re late.” “A little.” Kara smiles at Alex’s quick breath of laughter, already easing out the door when she hears a quiet I love you. “Love you too!” Kara dusts off her hands as she shuts the trunk. Lena bites her lip, because really, who was she to tell Kara that she couldn’t load up the bags?Just as she’s about to slip into the driver’s seat, Kara’s hand eases around her elbow. “Do you think I- I can drive, you probably didn’t get much sleep while you were in-” Kara blanches, “Sorry.”“Jail. You can say it Kara. Not like I’m still stuck there.” She curls her fingers over Kara’s arm, adds, “Because of you.” “That’s not- anyway, you can sleep on the way there.” Lena almost points out that was the night before last, but still, she didn’t fare any better in her own apartment, flashes of green and her mother’s cold, cold eyes startling her awake every time. “I’d appreciate it. Thank you, Kara.”(She doesn’t mention how Kara’s shoulders drop with relief or how her eyes trace every tip of the car before she gets in. She doesn’t ask why Kara has to clench her hands into fists before letting out a breath when she buckles up, making sure the window is rolled down three times before doing so.She does lean over and rest her head on Kara’s shoulder, hoping to offer what little comfort she can.)She waits until Kara seems relaxed again, shooting looks downward to her with the same, soft smile in place, corners tucking in and eyes bright as street lights hit them just right.She pulls away, tries not to miss the way her side is immediately cold without Kara’s warmth pressed against her. She glances out the window. “You’re flying.” She wonders how many times she can do this, casually tossing clues out there that she knows even as Kara continues on remaining oblivious, but then Kara’s hand is smoothing over her clenched knuckles, fingers that were pinched tight around her seat belt relaxing as Kara says, “You’d know if we were flying.”And then she winks.Kara Danvers winks at her, and oh, she has to fight to keep her hands in her lap instead of pressing over her chest in an effort to keep her heart there as it throbs.“I made a playlist? If that’s okay with you? I mean, I already made it but I mean,” Kara mimics plugging it in, “playing it?” “I usually sit in silence.” Kara pales, and Lena finds a laugh bubbling up before she can stops herself. “I’m kidding Kara, that sounds wonderful.”(It is. Kara’s got wonderful taste.By that Lena means she doesn’t know a single song, but she finds herself humming along after Kara belts out song after song, wiggling in the seat beside her in what she thinks is dancing.)“Oh wait. Snacks.” Kara jerks the car to the side, and Lena’s always wondered what the bar overhead was for, but now she clings to it as Kara simply drives on. Kara slips out of the car, barely pausing to ask, “Anything specific?” “I’m fine.” Kara frowns. “Really, I am.” A few minutes later, and Kara once again shocks her. She’s used to people listening to her, hanging off the edges of their seats, ready to listen to her commands or find some irrefutable flaw.(She doesn’t know why they act like it’s so hard. Why they try picking through her words to paint a terrible image.She’s got plenty of flaws, practically is the artist herself.)Kara is not one of those people. She bounds to the car, arms full of packaged snacks and balancing a tray of drinks. She proceeds to dump all the snacks in her lap. “Whatever you don’t want, just pass it to me.”Kara eats four bags of chips, two packs of trail mix, and enough cookies to make Lena gag.Lena smiles. Kara hasn’t even stopped to look what she’s passing her, only taking barely enough time to separate it from it’s packaging and shoving it into her mouth. Lena goes to press a brownie into her hands, but Kara pushes it back at her.“You haven’t had anything, and those?” Kara taps at the brownies, circles around the colorful candies pressed into it. “Those are the best.” (While they’re good- great, she’s never stopped for food from a gas station but now she wonders what else she’s missed- she thinks she knows something even sweeter.)Kara shifts to the side, arm propped oddly against the console. It looks uncomfortable for her, but she shakes her shoulder. “C’mon. Go to sleep.”“I’m not really tired.” It’s a evident lie, and judging by Kara pressing her lips into a fine lie, she knows it as well. Lena tries to keep her movements slow, hide her eagerness as she leans against Kara’s shoulder. (She’s asleep before they even get on the highway.She doesn’t even stir when Kara’s lips brush over her head.)Lena’s asleep. Lena’s asleep, and Kara thinks they’re here, but she’s not- she’s not really sure? She makes sure that it’s the right address that Lena put into the GPS twice before getting out.(It’s not at all what she imagined. She imagined some huge house off in the distance, separated from everything and everyone. Instead, she’s greeted by a small house, paint peeling off the sidings.There’s a certain charm to it, something that says this was all Lena and nothing to do with the Luthors.)Kara immediately tastes the salt on the breeze, wind picking up her hair. She spreads her arms and can’t wait for the sun in the morning, the birds flying overhead. She goes to toe off her shoes when she stops. Lena’s in the car, has been mumbling in her sleep for the past hour and something tells Kara she shouldn’t wake up alone.“Okay, okay.” She eases the passenger door open, and oh, her heart warms at the sight of Lena’s chin tucked into her chest, shoulders rising slightly with every breath. All semblance of slow flies out the window when she leans forward to unbuckle Lena, Lena’s heart beating all she hears and perfume all she smells. She unlatches it quickly and darts back, because she’s pretty sure even Lena could hear her heartbeat right now for how hard it’s thudding in her chest.She’s slipping one hand behind Lena’s back and the other under her knees when Lena’s head lolls to the side, lush green greeting her when Lena squints up.“I was um, I was going to carry you?” Lena’s lips quirk upward, a sly little thing that makes Kara fumble and wipe her palms on her pants. “By all means.”(She doesn’t sweat, she doesn’t sweat.Oh gosh, she’s sweating.)“Cool, cool.” Not cool. Saying cool is definitely on the top ten list of uncool things to say. “Cool,” oh okay, she’s just- she’s just going to keep saying it and firmly cement herself as the uncoolest person ever. Kara tries not to jostle Lena too much, notes the soft breaths against her neck are already evening out again. She stands for a moment, staring at the door and judging whether it’s appropriate or not to break Lena’s door instead of waking her before quietly asking, “Lena, where’s the key?”Lena hums. She squirms as much as she can in Kara’s arms when Kara decides to poke her fingers into her side. “In my pocket.”Kara pats around, thankful for the cool breeze, because oh, her heart’s still drumming along and her palms clammy- she freezes. “Lena, you don’t have pockets.” Lena smirks up at her, less sharp than she’s used to, and Kara didn’t think her heart could feel any warmer, but with Lena blinking sleepily up at her, it does. It takes another minute of prodding before Lena brandishes the key, and Kara’s mouth hurts from smiling so hard. She manages to maneuver enough to slip the key in and shoulder her way in.The room is dark, save for the moonlight flooding in through window after window. It’s small and compact, barely adorned with anything besides the couch and a table.“I’ll take the couch.” Kara tries to look down at Lena when she speaks, but Lena remains firmly nestled under her chin. “I’ve never had to worry about any guests.” Lena laughs, a warm puff of air against her collarbone. “Or family.” Kara pulls Lena a little closer at that, at the bitterness seeping into her tone and cutting her laugh short. Still, it takes her a minute to understand. “There’s only one bed.”“Yes.” There’s a pause. “I didn’t think about it.” “You’re not sleeping on the couch. It’s your place, and I practically crashed your vacation.” “You’re my friend and I invited you. You’re not sleeping on the couch.” Lena finally jerks up at that, and oh, her eyes are almost blue now. (Kara definitely does not stare.She doesn’t forget what they’re talking about while looking at Lena, mouth set in that firm line she knows Lena falls into when she’s being stubborn. She doesn’t forget to breathe when Lena leans closer- as if they’re not close enough, pressed against each other- and whispers her name.)Kara blinks. “Is there enough room for both of us?” “Only if you’re a cuddler.” It’s accompanied by an eye roll that could give even Cat a run for her money.It’s a joke, she knows it is, but that doesn’t stop her from shrugging her shoulders. “Good thing I am then.”Lena doesn’t say anything. Her hands tighten the grip around her shoulders, and Kara starts walking, proud at leaving Lena speechless for once instead of her.(Though she would be lying if she said she didn’t love when Lena left her speechless.)Lena wakes up with the sun in her face and wind drifting easily over her.She can’t remember the last time she slept past dawn, the last time sleep actually felt like sleep and not a jumbled mess of thoughts and images that left her reeling.(Then she remembers gentle hands guiding her down and tugging the covers over her. Kara laying down on top of the blankets until Lena pulled and pulled at them until Kara relented and scooted under with her. Kara’s hand had left a scorching path from her shoulder, to her her elbow, to her hand until it finally settled at her waist and then fell into the slip of space between them. Remembers Kara barely breathing or moving and laying flat out until Lena had reached back to tap at Kara's hand and- I don't bite. Kara snorting and sliding closer to her, laughter right at her ear.)She rolls over, squinting at the sunlight and finds the bed empty.(Her face falls.The thought of waking up beside someone, beside Kara, more appealing than it's ever been.)There’s touches of Kara all about the room. Clothes draped over the only chair in the room- it’s halfway done as if Kara thought about folding them at the last minute only to give up. The wind sifting in is no doubt her doing. Lena’s never so much as glanced at the window much less unlock it and shove it up to let the air in.(Sleeping late throws her off balance, makes her see things differently. She shouldn’t be seeing opening windows something so inherently Kara, letting in anything and everything.She shouldn’t be thinking about unlocking windows for Kara.)Lena breathes in deeply, and oh, there it is. Not so much the sun and wind waking her up but that. The rumblings of the coffee maker as the scent wafts rapidly through the small house.(Is it too much to consider filling Kara’s home with flowers this time for something as simple as coffee?Lena finds a waiting cup for her, already cooling with just the right amount of creamer she usually denies herself and makes a note in her phone.Nothing’s too much for Kara.Coffee, she means, nothing’s too much for coffee.)“Thank you for the coffee.” Kara shields her face with her hand when Lena steps into view, mug held closely in her hands. “I just hit a button.” She smiles, slips her toes through the sand, “Morning.”“Mm,” Lena eases down to sit beside her as she sprawls out across the sand, neither of them bothering to change from their pajamas. She takes a long sip before nodding, “Good morning.” Kara buries deeper into the sand, scooping it up in her palms and letting it slip through her fingers. The sun glides over her skin, warming every inch of her and leaving her buzzing.(Lena glances down at her when she sighs happily, and she thinks it’s not the only thing.)“I,” Kara grabs at the sand and can’t help clicking her tongue when it slides away from her fingers. A bird squawks overhead, and Lena jumps, frowning up at it in a way that lessens the tightness gathering in her chest. “We didn’t have them.”Oh, now she can feel Lena’s eyes on her. Not removed and calculating like when Kara asks about her inventions but inquisitive, a hint of concern tightening around the edges.“I used to be jealous.” Lena peers back up to the sky before dropping her gaze back down to her, “Yeah, I know. Of the birds.” Kara presses her hands against her stomach, hopes to alleviate that ache there, but it’s always there, sometimes it’s just a little easier to forget. “They could just- they could fly whenever they wanted. It was their sky.” “Kara.” “-It’s fine.” It’s not about fair. It’s not about her thinking she shouldn’t have heard Lena calling out for Lex in the middle of the night, or oh, how she clung to Kara, apologizing to and for things Kara couldn’t see or understand. Even though it’s there, it’s not about that. She wants to tell Lena.“It’s better now.” Now she knows that if she moves her shoulders just so, it’ll tilt her just like them. That if she keeps her legs squeezed tight together, straight behind her, she can take off faster. “Now, it’s ours.” She closes her eyes, feels silly and dumb and- And Lena’s hand folds over hers. “I never- we never actually went to the beach.” Lena worries her lip between her teeth, and Kara realizes it’s the first time she’s ever seen them not painted red or dark. “I mean, we had a house of course, but we didn’t-” Lena’s hand clenches until Kara’s fingers get in the way, pads of her fingers rubbing over her knuckles. “I didn’t think it could get more quiet than home, but I was wrong. Whenever we went on a trip, we just all kept to ourselves and the silence- it was-” Lena jerks a hand through her hair. “What I mean to say is, I’ve never done this. Just sat on the beach, but,” she smiles, and there it is, brighter than the sun.“I’m glad it’s with you.”(Kara doesn’t hesitate to say it back, doesn’t question how her heart does a little jump of joy at the words.It’s there and it’s nice and she’s so, so tired of everything being convoluted, because when Lena smiles at her, everything falls into place just for a minute and she feels like Kara again.)Fingers wiggle into her side, and she almost pops at the hand before her mind catches up that the only person who’s ever done that to her is Kara.Lena groans, turning her face more into the couch cushion. She had left Kara dozing on the beach after being assured it was fine, that the sun was better than sleeping at night.(She’d never seen Kara that tired. Eyes barely staying open and head falling to the side.She wonders when the last time Kara properly slept or recharged was.)She doesn’t remember falling asleep, but now it definitely seems like she had the right idea in mind. “What?”“Come on.” This time Lena does slap the hand away. “I’ll use my freeze breath if I have to.” Lena cracks open an eye, but Kara’s beaming down at her, no stuttering or reaching for excuses. She meant to. (She understood. She told herself it daily, that she understood that Kara couldn’t tell her. That she was a Luthor, and her own actions didn’t help the case to make them seem all that trustworthy.But she can’t deny that Kara speaking freely about it without a hint of remorse doesn’t remove the weight on her chest.She can’t deny that it doesn’t solidify whatever this is to her, because oh, Kara trusts her.)“Where?” Kara smiles even harder, mouth dimpling and Lena’s breath catches when Kara tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear. “You never got to experience the beach right? That means you haven’t seen the crabs?” “The crabs?” Which is how she finds herself scouring the beach with a flashlight as soon as night falls alongside Kara. (Not to say it’s remotely the oddest thing Kara’s got her to do here. She doesn’t typically try and cook or sing as she does so. She doesn’t dance around the kitchen. Today she does though.Usually she doesn’t smile or laugh or feel lighter than she has in years. Today she does though.With Kara.)“Oh, oh.” Kara wraps an arm around her shoulders, drawing her down and pointing. “Over there, one’s about to come up.” A second later there’s a shift of sand, and- “Oh.” A pale, little crab pops up, and Kara’s moving so much beside her, she thinks she’s about to combust. “Isn’t it the coolest? Eliza showed Alex and I.” Kara shines the flashlight beside it, catches it on the edge of the light as it scuttles about before diving back under the sand. “It is.” Lena turns to Kara, finds Kara looking just as eager as she feels. “Are there more?” Kara grins and taps her ear, “Tons.”(They’re out there until she her flashlight dies and her feet are dragging. This time when they crawl in bed, Kara’s behind her without any coaxing, sighing against the back of her neck, whispering about Valentine’s day, and-Lena sleeps well for the second night in a row.)“I don’t really want to leave.” Lena smiles, and when her hand settles at the crook of her elbow, Kara watches it for far too long. “Next time we’ll stay longer.” They both freeze, and Lena backs up, “I mean-”“I’d like that.” Kara bumps their shoulders together, “You’re schedule is a lot more iffy than mine, so you find out when you can take some days and I’ll work around it, okay?” Lena’s heartbeat doubles in her ears, and oh, okay, Kara really shouldn’t be listening, but she is and it’s wonderful. Lena dips her head, “Okay.”Kara drives again, Lena jumping into the passenger seat without Kara even having to ask.(She doesn’t like cars, doesn’t like the confinement. Being the driver, being in control makes it easier, and Lena picks up on that without her saying anything.)Every time she glances over, Lena’s watching her with this look that’s tender and happy and content.(How many times can Lena say that? How many times has Lena been happy and fulfilled only to have it ripped from her grasp?Probably as much as she has.)Lena all but demands that she drive to her own place instead of Lena’s and walking back, despite Kara pointing upward and saying she has other means.When Kara pulls up beside her apartment complex, her stomach twists. This has been fun and relieving and everything she needed. “I know you didn’t plan on me coming, but thank you. It was,” Kara pries her hands off the steering wheel and twists her fingers together, “it was wonderful.”“Thank you,” Lena says, and oh, it’s right at her- Lena’s lips press against her cheek. “It’s the most fun I’ve had in- I’m not even sure.” Lena’s smiling shyly at her, wisps of hair falling from the messy bun she put it in earlier and Kara moves forward.(She almost doesn’t, but then she hears a voice, hears dive.)Kara leans over the console, nose brushing over Lena’s cheek. “Can I kiss you?” Lena’s breath comes out in a rush as she nods and then-Lena’s kissing her softly, and oh, they should have been doing this the whole time. Kara keeps her hand gripped on the console to prop her up, but Lena has no restraint, hands slipping from her neck to her jaw back down to her collarbone. Her nails digging just enough into her shoulders. Kara tries to press forward more, feels the gear stick dig into her hip and anymore, it’ll break. It’ll be a causality, the only causality Kara will be more than happy to sacrifice even if it’s in Lena’s car, because with the way Lena’s tugging her closer, she’s pretty sure she wouldn’t mind.Lena pulls back, hands cupping her cheeks to keep her close and breathing heavily at her jaw. Kara butts their heads together gently, and Lena laughs, quiet but sure, just between them. “I don’t suppose you’d like to go to lunch with me tomorrow?”“I thought we were already.” Lena’s answer is a searing kiss, drawing back before Kara can forget the question. “I meant as a date.”Kara smiles, knows it’s on the side of lopsided and maybe just a bit goofy, but Lena’s shoulders drop in relief at it. “I know. I’ll bring it, so we can have more time. Text me what you want?”“I will.” “Okay.” Lena bites her lip, and oh, that’s nicer to see now that she knows how Lena’s lips feel against hers. “You have to get out of the car so I can drive home Kara.”“I know.” She waits until Lena shoves at her shoulders, keeping the door open for her so Lena can slip into the driver’s seat and sneaks another kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Goodnight Kara.” “Goodnight.” When she unlocks her door, she’s surprised to find Alex asleep on her couch. Kara steps lightly over to her, brushing Alex’s hair out of the way. “Alex?”Her sister’s muscles tense immediately before falling, brown eyes hazy when she blinks up at her. “Hey.” Alex scrubs at her eyes, and Kara’s reminded of late nights and shushing each other in case Eliza heard. “I thought we could catch up on some shows?”“That sounds awesome.” Alex smiles at her, dropping her gaze down to rearrange the blanket before her head snaps back up, eyes squinting as they rove over her face. “How was it?”“Um, good. Great.” Kara bobs her head, tilting it when Alex smirks. “What?”“That it?”“Yep.” A conversation for tomorrow definitely. With coffee. And donuts, Kara adds, because she’s still not too sure how it’ll go down. She plops down halfway beside Alex and halfway on her, ignoring the wheeze- it’s dramatic, she’s not that heavy.“Kara?”“Hm?”“You’ve got lipstick all over your mouth.” (She maybe accidentally, totally on purpose doesn’t wipe it off until the next morning.She doesn’t really see the point when it’s just there again after lunch.)
10097714	Draco as Deatheater	{ "Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by Mesosalphynx", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2007-04-14T00:00:00", "words": "1,296", "Additional Tags": "Explicit Language, BDSM, Slash sex, Sexual Content, Alternate Universe, Drama, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot", "Relationship": "Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "HPFandom", "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 }	Draco Malfoy strode through the front doors of his home, Malfoy Manor. The last five years since the victory of Lord Voldemort had repaired some of the damage inflicted upon him during the war. Like his father he stood well over six feet tall, hard with sinewy muscle. Unlike the late Lucius Malfoy Draco kept his hair cut short.His footsteps rang through the hall as he removed his outer robes without breaking his stride. He felt the presence of the house elf. Before it had a chance to speak he stopped. “I’m not hungry. I might want something later, but right now I need to relax. Do not disturb me in my room.”Throwing his cloak at the elf Draco started up the stairs. An anticipatory tingle ran up his legs as he neared his bedroom door.Flinging open the door his eyes searched the four corners of the room until they rested on a form sitting in the window seat staring out at the grounds.“Potter!”Harry’s head turned slowly. His hair didn’t look much different than it had at Hogwarts. He had filled out a bit more and the dusting of dark wiry hairs on his chest were a recent development.His chains rustled as he stood silently. Draco knew very well that he could keep Harry here without some thing as crude as chains, but he rather liked the look of them and he knew it bothered Potter to no end, being shackled almost naked in his archenemy’s bedroom.But, Draco supposed, five years after being awarded to Draco as a spoil of war Harry was getting used to it. The repeated attempts to find a way of escape had petered out after a couple of years. Not that Harry still didn’t fight him. He wouldn’t be any fun otherwise.Draco did wish that Harry spoke more often, though.“I’ve had a shit of a day. Get on the bed.”Harry nodded and moved to sit on the edge of the bed.“What were you thinking about just now before I came in?”Harry shrugged. “Nothing much.”Draco pulled hard on the chain attached to Harry’s neck collar.“Don’t lie to me, Potter. I can read you like a book.”Harry squeezed his eyes shut for a second, swallowing hard, waiting for the the pain in his neck to subside.“I was thinking about flying.”Draco paused from unbuttoning his shirt.“Well, if you’d be a little more convivial I might consider letting you fly a bit.”Harry snorted derisively.“Letting you fuck me daily for five years isn’t good enough?”Draco grabbed a handful of Harry’s hair.“There’s no letting me do anything. You have no choice. You belong to me. Or had you forgotten?”Harry sneered, but remained silent.Letting his shirt fall to the floor Draco started working at the opening of his trousers.“I thought not. Go on. Hands and knees, Potter.”Harry slowly turned over. Draco let his trousers fall from his slender hips. His eyes ran over Harry hungrily as he squeezed his erection.“I still can’t get enough of you like this, Potter. How you must hate me. And yet…”Draco reached over to Harry’s right hip and triggered the lock that held Harry’s chastity belt in place. As the belt fell away Draco’s hand found Harry’s hardness.“You’re always hard for me.”Draco’s breath warmed Harry’s neck. Harry craned his head as far away from Draco’s as he could.“How ashamed you must be. First you fail to kill Voldemort, then…” He chuckled darkly. “you find out that you like to take it in the arse from a Deatheater. What would you friends think? Oh, wait a minute… they’re dead.”Harry’s face was scarlet.“Fuck you, Malfoy!”Draco’s hand cupped Harry’s balls for a second then squeezed, hard.The pain caused Harry to cry out and try his best to roll himself up in a ball. Draco tutted.“No. I think I’ll fuck you if you don’t mind.”He waited a minute for Harry’s breathing to return to normal.“Get back up.”Wiping tears from his eyes Harry rose back up on all fours while Draco slathered his cock with lube.Settling behind Harry Draco slid into place.“Fuck, Potter. I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”Draco reached around and found Harry’s semi soft cock. Sliding out with excruciating slowness then back in he milked Harry’s cock until it was hard and weeping precome.“That’s better.”Letting go of Harry’s erection Draco grabbed his wand as he continued his slow slide in and out.“Someone showed me a little spell the other day. Let’s see of it’s as good as they say.”With a flick of his wand and a murmured word Harry’s cock felt like it was enveloped in a hot, slick mouth with a dexterous tongue working the head. Harry tightened around Draco perceptively.“On yes. I think that’s a winner.”Harry was making soft noises in the back of his throat. Draco sped up his thrusts until Harry was crying out raggedly. With both hands on Harry’s hips Draco watched his cock sliding in and out of Harry.“Talk, Potter. How I like it!”Harry whimpered. ”Oh, fuck, you feel so good inside me. Fuck me harder.” Draco pushed Harry’s shoulders flat against the bed using all his weight to slam into Harry as fast as he possibly could. Harry’s voice was muffled, but intelligible. “Oh, fuck, yes, Master! So fucking good! I’m going to come.”A string of drool ran down from Draco’s lower lip to the back of Harry’s neck.“Such a good slave, so hot, so tight.”Draco was rutting like a dog in heat. His world had narrowed to his cock in Harry’s arse.“Master, please let me come.”Harry’s voice was high and rough.“Come for me, Potter.”Harry’s keening wail brought Draco closer to his peak. Harry clamped down on him rhythmically as he came. Draco could feel his orgasm building as he thrust frantically.“Oh, Harry, Harry. I love making love to you.”He was so close, so close, then he was there. His essence poured out into Harry. Draco’s last few thrusts were gentle as the last of his orgasm washed over him. There was silence for a full minute before Harry started laughing. Draco couldn’t be arsed to get off of him.“What’s so funny?”Harry turned his head to look at Draco.“I don’t think Deatheaters are supposed to declare their love for their sex slaves.”Draco felt too good at the moment to come up with a witty retort.“I told you I’d never would have made a good dark minion.”He kissed Harry’s shoulder.“This scenario was your idea, not mine, you little twisted fuck. I couldn’t help it.”Harry shifted uncomfortably.“Could you take the spell off now?”Draco rolled off Harry and grabbed his wand.“Finite Incantatum.”Harry sighed with relief then looked at Draco shyly.“So was that good for you?”Draco snorted.“You were here in the room, right?”Harry nodded and smiled.“Maybe we could try that again some time. Except go a little easier on the bullocks next time, okay?”Draco nodded.“Sorry. Maybe I could make it up to you. You know, kiss it and make it better.”Harry yawned.“How about we take that up after a nap. Maybe we could play Harry Potter and the naughty Deatheater.”A/N- I'm a total dingbat- this story had the word curl in it and it took me days to figure out that that was the problem so FYI- I'm still working on 'Secret Life' and have started another fic as well- will be better in future about posting.Please review!
10049807	Twenty-four Hour Torture	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Harry Potter, Severus Snape", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by DarkCorgi", "chapters": "6/6", "completed": "2005-07-05", "published": "2004-06-21T00:00:00", "words": "30,939", "Additional Tags": "Slash, Sexual Content, Spoilers, Humor, Parody, Romance", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Holiday Hell", "Collections": "HPFandom", "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 }	Twenty-four Hour TortureChapter 1By Corgi Severus stood before the mantel of Minerva's quarters with a self satisfied smirk on his face. He was examining a glass globe set upon the stone fixture. The globe had a small island surrounded by water. Upon the island were palm trees and several fruit bearing trees. Those trees surrounded a small hut. Severus watched as the fish swam contentedly among the beds of seaweed as a magically created storm raged over head. Severus chuckled evilly as he saw the hut sway in a gust of wind before he was distracted by the door opening. Minerva and Harry entered, one behind the other, and Severus didn't even try to hide the smile that came to his face at Harry's arrival. Harry came straight to him and stood on his toes to plant a chaste kiss on Severus' lips, while hugging him tightly. Severus saw Minerva look on with a fond expression gracing her features. Harry darted off to his room to dump off his books and change. "You're prompt as always, Severus." Minerva teased as he watched Harry retreat into his room. "Of course I am, Minerva. If I wasn't I'd be as bad at potions as Longbottom." Severus gave the woman a mock sneer as her eyes danced with mirth. "I do believe you may be right, Severus. I do have to thank you for coming up tonight. I know you don't get as much time as you'd like with Harry." "That's mostly Albus' fault. The man has had me in his office scolding me about my behavior every day, it's insane. He's been trying to do the same to Harry, but the pest isn't cooperating with him." Severus rolled his eyes to emphasize his point before continuing. "Lupin's birthday is the next full moon and I know Harry wants to spend it with him on all fours. Any clue about his form yet?" "It's not clear still. I'm hoping tonight he manages the full transformation. He's one of those forms that are hard to pinpoint. I'm thinking he may be some sort of canine from the previous attempts. If he does the shift tonight then all he needs is practice to make his shift occur faster. How's you own transformation going?" "I see you know about that. I don't know how I let the brat talk me into this, but it's moving along. I guess by the end of March I'll have mastered it. I'm at the same point Harry was at Christmas, black hair all over." "Harry made sure he knew all the spells needed if you run into a problem you couldn't reverse on your own. You're moving along quite quickly. Then again, I shouldn't be surprised. You've always managed to master things as quickly as possible." "You have to be a perfectionist in order to gain your Mastery in Potions and it tends to carryover in everything you do." "Are you and Remus getting along alright?" "Perfectly fine. He settled down after Christmas morning." "For a moment I thought my triumphant feat would have been ruined. He looked like he was ready to rip your throat out when you floo'd in." "I think he might have if Draco wasn't leaping about in jubilation. It doesn't pay to have witnesses. And what triumphant feat are you referring to?" "Getting you out of the dungeons before dinner time on Christmas Day, no one's managed before, not even Albus." Severus shared a laugh with the older witch and for the first time in years was completely comfortable without his mask. Harry came bounding into the room dressed in a T-shirt and sweat pants. Severus smiled at the younger man, quite happy that the younger man took his advice and had his eyesight corrected. He wore a pair of fake glasses to hide the fact he had the work done. It was all to his advantage in the long run. Severus took a few moments to admire the young wizard's body in his new clothes. Lupin and Minerva took the stubborn wizard on a shopping spree just before classes restarted and Severus couldn't get enough seeing him properly dressed. "Sorry I took so long. Remus wrote me about the next full moon and he wanted a response." Harry said while bouncing with excitement. "That's alright, Harry. Are you ready to start?" Minerva asked with an Albus-like twinkle in her eyes. "I'm ready." "Then get to it." Harry stood in the middle of the room and took several deep breaths before turning his concentration inward. There was a slow whoosh of air being displaced as Harry slowly started to change form. His body sprouted hair and his hands started to change shape. His face began to slowly elongate and become a muzzle as his ears began to move to the top of his head. He started to grow a tail and his legs began to change shape and position. As if a rope gave away, there was a sudden pop and in Harry's place stood a curious looking black dog. It looked not quite wolfish and not quite grim-like. Severus couldn't help but laugh at the undeniable proof that Harry wasn't James. The boy in his animagus form looked more like the offspring of Black. A sudden thought hit him, the reason why the form looked oddly wolfish was because the form had were-wolf-like features not true wolf ones. It proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that the boy belonged in spirit to Lupin and Black, never mind his Potter blood. Harry walked awkwardly to the full length mirror Minerva had set up and looked at his reflection. He sat in surprise as the image of himself. Harry cocked his head to the side and looked at Severus' and Minerva's reflections with an obvious question in his green eyes. Severus couldn't resist a barb at the younger wizard. "Congratulations, Harry, you're a mutt." Severus laughed as Harry bared his teeth and growled, all the while wagging his bushy tail. Minerva clapped in delight and pride as Harry mastered the change back quicker than the initial shift. Harry received a congratulatory hug from the older witch before hitting the sofa with a thump. "So why did I look so odd? I could see I resembled Padfoot, but not quite." Harry was puzzled, but it didn't dampen the glint of accomplishment in his eyes. "Lupin, you look like Lupin on his month rampage through the woods." Severus responded as he tried to suppress the shivers the memory of Lupin lunging at him evoked. "I look like a were-wolf? How could that be possible?" "Influence, Harry," Minerva contributed. "You've had more contact with Remus and Sirius, so they've had more of an impact on you're personality development than Lily and James." "You definitely resemble what the offspring of a were-wolf and a grim could look like, Harry." Severus watched as the information sank into Harry's mind. "You mean as far as my magic is concerned, Remus and Sirius are my parents?" "Exactly, Harry." Minerva said with a smile. "Now you'll have to practice at least half a hour every day until the transformation to and from your form is instantaneous." "I will. Hopefully I won't need the ability to shift quickly too soon." "I do have work to do, so I'll be going. Are you going to come and help or are you going to stay and chase your tail, Harry?" "I thought chasing his tail was your job, Severus." Minerva added with what would be an absolutely straight face had the corners of her mouth not twitched in mirth. "Very funny Minerva, then again you know all about having your tail chased by someone else, now don't you?" Severus smirked at the blush that spread across the woman's cheeks and quickly walked to the fireplace, grabbed a handful of floo powder and escaped to his rooms, before she could retaliate. Severus stepped gracefully out of his fireplace and headed straight to his lab and the simmering potion on his primary work station. As he settled in and began preparing the next ingredient he heard a thump and a muttered curse from the sitting room, announcing Harry's arrival. Harry's footsteps retreated into the bedroom and then became louder as he headed towards the lab. Severus watched out of the corner of his eye as the younger man bounced into the room. How does the brat manage to be so energetic after those lessons with Minerva? Severus shook his head slightly at the thought and pointed at the never ending list of potions that Poppy needed for the infirmary. "If you would make those potions you know how to do, I'll be grateful. Poppy's list gets longer and longer as the school year goes on." "You should be glad you didn't see that Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff last Saturday." "They ended up forfeiting, didn't they?" "Yeah, most of their players didn't have a clue as to how to play and almost all but their keeper ended up sprawled on the pitch. One of the Hufflepuff beaters hit their seeker with a bludger." "I would think they'd be happy that I wasn't there. I would be handing out detentions for wasting my work." "I guess that's one way to look at it. The Headmaster wants me to train the Hufflepuffs so this mess doesn't happen again." "Are you going to?" "No. I'm banned from Quidditch, so as far as I'm concerned it includes helping the teams to. Besides I'm not risking my broom and I'm not taking chances on my head being knocked off because the school brooms don't have any speed." Severus didn't answer, but understood exactly what Harry was saying. The Headmaster did his best to get Harry's ban overturned, but Fudge was being stubborn about the whole thing. He didn't see a reason for Harry to help out. It would be too painful and most of the Magical Games and Sports department are the parents of the current Hufflepuff team. Then again, Harry could be acting contrary because he's still angry at the Headmaster for the whole Snow Globe Incident. That was bad enough, but the constant lectures the two were receiving from the meddling old man were starting to wear on their collective nerves and it tended to make them more contrary to the old man's wishes. "Is the Headmaster ever going to realize he's making this "worse" between us with his constant lectures?" Harry asked as he chopped the dittany that was required for the first of the healing potions he was working on. Severus paused a moment to marvel at how close they've gotten to each other in the short two months they've been together. Both men were cannily able to follow the other's trail of thought with little effort. "He's as stubborn as we are, Harry. He won't quit until he gets the results he wishes to see. I won't be surprise to find ourselves wandless and locked in a closet sometime soon." "A closet? I can think of a lot of things we could do in a closet, provided there's enough room to maneuver that it." "My, my… Someone's been a little deprived in a certain department, now haven't they?" Severus chuckled when Harry blushed. "It's hardly my fault. We haven't had anytime together despite all our efforts." Harry pouted playfully at Severus before arranging his features into a picture of frustration. "He's called you into his office so many times since Christmas Holidays ended. It's almost as if he's trying to keep up apart." "I know, Harry, I know." Severus and Harry worked in relative silence, each efficiently working on their potions. The only sounds in the lab were their breathing, the bubbling of their cauldrons, the snick of their knives against the cutting boards, and the thuds of their pestles grinding ingredients in the mortars. Severus took several glances as Harry as the younger man worked steadily on the healing draught. Harry's confidence in cooking was carrying over into potions now that their animosity was gone. He might not have the love for the art that Severus had, but was more than willing to do his best so he could spend the extra time with Severus. Severus appreciated the extra help and relished the companionship a partner in the lab gave him. With Harry's help his work load decreased significantly, not only in the lab, but also in his office where the younger man would mark the first, second and third year essays with a quill that mimicked Severus' handwriting. The decreased in his work load had some positive effects on his overall appearance. The lines of stress that marred his forehead and those around his eyes weren't as pronounced as they once were. In the past he didn't bother removing the traces of potions fumes and the potion he used to keep his hair from burning when the sparks flew. Now he took the time to remove them on a daily basis. Between the end of his days of spying and the entrance of Harry into his life, his views on the world have changed drastically. He longed for the time when this war would be over. He sent a little prayer skyward, wishing for the end to the Dark Lord's existence and the survival of those near and dear to him. As two hours passed in near silence they each finished up their current potions and cleaned up the work stations. Once the clean up was done they fell into their usual evening routine. Dobby brought up tea while he and Harry settled in front of his fireplace and stared at the fire. As they unwound Harry snuggled into his side and rested his head on Severus' shoulder. Severus took a deep breathe and reveled in the scent of Harry's body. With Albus interrupting there time together with his attempts to make them play nice, little did he know how nice they've been playing, they hadn't had enough time to continue the more intimate portions of their relationship. Just smelling the last remaining scent from Harry's shampoo galvanized him into sudden action. There was no way he was going to waste their privacy tonight. Severus drew is wand and deactivated the floo system in his sitting room and bedroom. As quick as thought he locked the entrances to his rooms with the strongest locking charms and wards he knew. Once their privacy was ensured he captured Harry's mouth in a hungry kiss, which Harry returned with enthusiasm. That one kiss conveyed to the other how much they missed each other, despite the fact they spent as much time together as possible. Severus left Harry's delectable mouth and attached his own to the younger man's throat to nip along the artery pulsing beneath the slightly tanned skin. With out losing contact with Harry's neck, Severus scooped the slight wizard off the sofa and made his way into his bedroom. He tossed the now giggling Harry into the center of his bed and pinned him to the mattress. Severus continued to ravish Harry's throat as he ran his hands beneath the younger man's t-shirt. Not willing to stop what he was doing, but frustrated with the clothes in his way, he quickly drew his wand and muttered a spell against Harry's neck. Harry gasped as the cool dungeon air flowed across his now bare body. His clothes reappeared neatly folded on a chair in the corner and Severus made his way down the newly revealed territory. Severus explored every inch of Harry's torso and drank in the sounds he forced from the green-eyed wizard's mouth. By the time Severus reached Harry's throbbing cock, they young wizard was a limp mass begging for more. Severus ran his tongue up the pulsing vein of Harry's erection at an agonizingly slow pace and Harry whimpered and squirmed. When he licked the beaded drop of pre-cum from the head, Harry groaned and pleaded for more. By the time Severus engulfed Harry's cock, Harry was an incoherent mess surrendering to the older man's ministrations. Harry was only capable of screaming Severus' name and fisting his hands into the blankets as Severus coaxed the younger man to climax. Severus drank down all Harry had to offer and soothed Harry through the aftermath of his orgasm. When Harry recovered his wits, Severus reached out to his nightstand and snagged the jar of lubricant. Once the container was opened Severus claimed Harry's mouth once again and shared the younger man's taste with him. As he deepened the kiss and explored Harry's mouth with his tongue, Severus liberally coated his fingers with the thick jelly and swiftly began to prepare him. As he did so Harry moaned into his mouth as Severus stroked over his prostate. Harry tangled his fingers in Severus' hair and pushed back onto the fingers preparing him. By the time Severus added a third finger Harry was once again incoherent. The impatient young wizard broke the kiss and glared at Severus. "If you don't get out of those clothes this instant I'll hex you six ways to Sunday." Harry stared fixedly at Severus, who only chuckled and slowly moved off the bed. Severus slowly began undressing, one hook at a time, doing his best to tease the younger man. That plan backfired when Harry growled and turned towards his neatly folded clothes. "Accio wand!" Harry's wand flew from the secret pocket in the leg of his sweats and into his hand at a blink of an eye. He then pointed his wand at Severus and muttered a charm learned from frequent stays in the hospital wing, leaving Severus completely stripped. "Impatient, aren't we?" Severus whispered as he crawled between the Harry's legs. "Of course I am. If I don't get you to hurry something may happen to drag you way, again." Harry looked at him and begged with a look for Severus to get a move on. For once Severus obliged with out a word. Severus leaned over for another scoop of the lubricant and liberally coated his throbbing erection. Slowly he pressed into Harry's eager opening until he was fully sheathed. Once both of them were ready he slowly began to move in and out, making sure to brush against Harry's sensitive gland as he did so. Soon he increased his pace and Harry matched his pace as he met each of Severus' thrusts. Quicker and quicker they moved together and Severus grasped Harry's reawakened erection, moving his hand in time to his movements. Time seemed to slow as first Harry, and then Severus cried out in climax. Once time resumed its proper speed and they gathered their wits, Severus reached for the blankets, as Harry cast cleansing charms over the two of them and the bed. When Harry settled his head on Severus' chest the older man wrapped his arms around him. Both men sighed in contentment before Harry broke the silence. "I wish we could skip classes tomorrow and stay down here." Harry said as he ran his fingers down Severus' chest. "Why tomorrow?" Severus tightened his arms around Harry as the waited for the younger man's response. "Did you forget the date, Severus?" "Tomorrow's February 14…. Oh. Damn I had teaching on Valentine's Day. The brats pay less attention than normal on that day. Why would you dread it enough to hide?" "I'll end up spending the day fending off witches and I won't be able to tell everyone that I've got someone in my life." "We'll worry about tomorrow when it comes. If it's too bad you could always hide in your room. Minerva wouldn't be happy about it, but she'd understand." Severus tilted Harry's head upwards and gave him a loving kiss. "Go to sleep. You've got classes and I've got to be awake enough to dodge flying cauldrons tomorrow." "Alright. Goodnight Severus." "Sleep well, Harry." In the center tower of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore sat pondering the events of the last couple of months. Despite his attempts to force Harry and Severus to work together amicably, the two refuse to cooperate. In fact their hostilities seemed to have escalated. The only time they seem to work together is when they manage to him alone in the hallways. He's been dodging hexes from Severus' wand since classes restarted after Christmas Holiday. Otherwise the two were more hostile to each other than before he sent them into the snow globe. The shouting match they had during supper was out of control. The things they said to each other that had everyone in the hall pale and ready to flee at a moment's notice. Albus shook his head at the memory. He was becoming surer and surer the two were hiding deeper feelings and more than determined not to give in. "Well Fawkes, I think I'll see if I'm right about those two. I think they're made for each other. Yes, they like each more than they'll admit to." You're playing with fire, Winter. This can blow up in you're face as well as hurt both Shade and the cub. "They won't be harmed, Fawkes. I would never do anything to hurt them. Not intentionally, Winter, but you can hurt them very badly. "Valentine's Day is tomorrow and I have the perfect charm for them. You'll see, Fawkes, how perfect they are for each other." Winter, you're going to regret this. Fawkes shifter on his perch in agitation as the Headmaster began his preparations for tomorrow morning. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Ataraxis' Valentine's Challenge Twenty-four Hour TortureChapter 2By Corgi Harry awoke in a cocoon of warmth and as he stretched his stiff limbs he noticed he was alone in the bed. Severus was a notoriously early riser and didn't always wake Harry when he did. Today was one of those days and Harry appreciated it immensely. He was extremely drained between his Animagus training and their lovemaking the night before. He didn't think he'd be able to wake when Severus did after that. Finally feeling like would be able to function, Harry groped for his glasses and sighed as he remembered that he no longer needed them. Old habits die hard. He slid off the bed and headed into the bathroom. Once he relieved himself and showered he changed into the clothes he brought down. He went to search for Severus and found him in his private lab working away on his research. Harry stood quietly in the doorway waiting for Severus to finish adding an ingredient and notice his arrival. "Good Morning, Harry." Severus said when he looked up and saw Harry standing in the door way barely awake. A rare smile graced his face when Harry approached him. "Morning, Severus. What are you working on today?" Harry asked mostly to find out if it was safe to distract the volatile man. "I'm working on improvements for the Wolfsbane. It has to simmer for five hours before the changes I plan on using need to be implemented." "Oh good, then I can interrupt you." Harry smiled and closed the remaining distance between them. Once he was close enough he wrapped his arms around the taller man's waist and found Severus leaning down to meet him halfway for a kiss. The older wizard's arms wound around his body, giving Harry the physical affection he craved. "Harry, as much as I wish to continue this you must floo to Minerva's rooms and head down for breakfast." Severus told the younger wizard after he pulled his mouth away. "She'll have a litter of kittens and then skin me alive if you're not there before she leaves for breakfast herself." "I know I just wanted to say good morning." "Now you have. Now get a move on before your Head of House comes after me." Severus shooed Harry towards the fireplace after releasing him. "Will I be seeing you later?" Harry asked with a smile while grabbing a handful of floo powder from the pot on the mantle. "Yes, but don't surprised if I recruit you for the lab. Poppy always graces me with a list on Valentine's Day." "That'll be okay. I'll see you later then." Harry gave Severus an one armed hug and threw the powder into the fireplace, called his destination and stepped into the fire. Harry tumbled out of the fireplace into the sitting room of his Head of House. Once he regained his equilibrium he made his way to his room and gathered up his books, parchment and ink for the day as well as pulling a set of robes for today out of his wardrobe. He grabbed the false glasses off his nightstand and put them on before he left the bedroom. When he emerged, Professor McGonagall was just leaving for breakfast. She turned when she heard Harry enter the room and smiled. "Good morning, Harry." Professor McGonagall asked and then with a mischievous smile asked, "Did you sleep well?" "Well enough, Professor." Harry replied with a smirk as he headed to the door. He opened the door with a flourish and bowed allowing his Head of House to leave first. As he exited the sitting room he noticed a spot of color not normally found on the mantel piece. "Professor, I'll be right down. I forgot something." "All right, Harry, just don't take too long." "I won't." Harry walked over to the mantle and looked intently at the glass globe on it. The deserted island globe grabbed Harry's attention the first time he saw it when he returned from the hospital wing after the Christmas Holidays and Harry loved to watch the storms swirl in the magically crafted glass. It was like the one the Headmaster caged Severus and him in. It wasn't completely water filled and magic powered the weather changes in the glass enshrouded environment. The globe itself wasn't what caught Harry's attention, but something in it did. Bobbing in the water, right up against the glass, was a piece of royal blue fabric with large flowers in a lighter shade of blue. The piece of fabric looked familiar, but Harry couldn't place where he's seen it before. He took a closer look at the globe and noticed the sand was disturbed around the hut. Harry frowned a bit at that, but then he shrugged it off. It must be another spell at work. A glance at the clock next to the globe showed that he was running the risk of missing breakfast and he quickly made his way down to the Great Hall. He made his way to the Gryffindor table and smiled when he noticed that his friends saved him a seat between them. "Morning, Ron, Hermione. Thanks for saving me a seat." Harry gave them a large smile and received two in response. "You're welcome, Harry. Sleep well?" Hermione asked, closing the book she was reading. "Very well, thanks. Not a dream or vision in sight." "That's great, Harry. Did you get all your homework done?" "Of course I did. Professor McGonagall wouldn't let me get away with not cracking open my books while I'm staying in her quarters." "Very true," Hermione and Ron exchanged pointed looks at each other and Ron swallowed the last forkful of food he took before turning to Harry. "So, who is she?" Ron has a sly smile on his face when he asked his question. "What are you talking about, Ron?" "Who's the girl you've been seeing?" "What makes you think I'm seeing someone?" "You've been exceptionally cheerful since the holiday." Hermione chimed in with a knowing smile. "Because I'm happy, you think I'm seeing someone?" "Yes," Ron and Hermione said in unison. "Well you're wrong. I'm not seeing any girl." "Okay, then who's the boy?" Hermione asked and then laughed as Ron choked on his food in shock. "You're too much to take sometimes, Hermione." Harry replied in an exasperated tone. "I'm not seeing a boy either. I haven't a clue as to why you seem to think I'm seeing someone." "You've got the same goofy look Ron and Hermione had when they first got together, though it's not as obvious as theirs was." Ginny supplied as she watched her brother, who was still spluttering in shock at Hermione's question. "Well it's too bad that they're wrong." Harry said with finality. "Fine, Harry, we won't talk about it any more." Hermione sighed and changed the subject. "May I borrow Hedwig, Harry? I want to send a letter to my parents." "Sure, Hermione, she should be back from hunting by now." "Thanks, Harry. I'll see you in Herbology." Hermione grabbed Ron by the sleeve and dragged him from the Hall. Harry rolled his eyes at the retreating forms of his friends and dug into his food now that his distractions were gone. He mentally thanked the elves for placing warming charms on the plates. He hoped that Ron and Hermione would leave the subject of his love life be, but knew it was a matter of time before the inquisition began again. Harry took a quick glance around the Great Hall and noticed a lot of faces with a predatory gleam in their eyes. Many of those eyes were watching him and Harry shivered in reaction. He knew now that breakfast was going to be the only quiet meal for today. He hurriedly finished his breakfast, grabbed his bag and rushed off to Herbology. Harry hoped that he wouldn't be ambushed on his way their. His hopes were in vain as six female students pressed handmade Valentines into hi hands and scurried off to their classes. Harry shoved the cards, unopened into his bag and ran to green house three. Herbology went well and Harry spent the lesson safely ensconced between Ron and Hermione. Harry didn't want to leave the safety of the green house when it was time to leave for his next class. The trip to the Defence against the Dark Arts classroom proved to be difficult with even more young witches handing him Valentines while blushing profusely. Harry was mortified to see several first years amidst the gaggle of girls pursuing him in the hallway. He let out a sigh of relief once he made it to the safety of the classroom. Ron and Hermione didn't help matters any as they teased him over the display in the hall. Unfortunately for Harry Defence proved to mark a turning point for his day; a downhill turn. First he got into an argument with Professor Holt after class about the grade of his counter curse paper. The man insisted that his points were all wrong, though Harry thoroughly researched the paper, mostly from the books in Severus' library. Annoyed with the man, Harry stormed out of the room and headed to Charms. Charms didn't improve his mood any since he couldn't for the life of him make the charm work. Even with Hermione's patient help he failed to master the charm and as a result he was given a huge assignment from Professor Flitwick. By the end of the class he was ready to bash his head repeatedly against the castle's stone walls. A concussion and an extended stay in the hospital wing would be an improvement over the day so far. Harry was dreading going to lunch. He felt something dreadful was going to happen to him. He wasn't wrong. Once Harry entered the Great Hall, trailing behind Ron and Hermione, he noticed the heart shaped boxes of chocolate at every place setting. Professor Dumbledore probably decided to make this a new tradition. He did the same thing last year after a Death Eater attack in Hogsmeade in order to cheer up the students. Sighing, Harry took a seat opposite Ron and Hermione at their house table. He had a perfect view of the Slytherin table and noticed Draco looking at the heart shaped boxes with disgust. Soon the owls would be arriving with the mail and Harry truly wished to be elsewhere. Ever since the Ministry acknowledged the return of Voldemort, tons of witches and several wizards bombarded him with Valentines in February, Christmas presents in December and birthday presents in July. Harry spent more time sending his birthday presents to Dumbledore or the Order to check for hexes, poisons and portkeys then doing his homework. The Order took to intercepting his mail so he didn't have to worry about what the packages contained. Harry helped himself to his favourite foods and halfway through the meal the owls arrived. As he predicted an entire flock of the birds peeled off from the mass and headed straight for him. Resigned to his fate, Harry grabbed a couple of pieces of chicken and broke them into small chunks to offer to the birds as they delivered their burdens. Thirty owls took turns landing in front of Harry. Thankfully by the time the next wave of owls came, Professor McGonagall came to his rescue and re-routed the owls to the empty office next to hers. Harry guessed that one of the house-elves would be taking care of his excessive amount of mail. Harry looked over at the Slytherin table to see the whole table pointing and sniggering at his predicament. Draco was keeping up appearances, but when the blonde smirked at him he could see the sympathy in his grey eyes. Draco quickly gestured to Pansy Parkinson and rolled his eyes. Every one at the Gryffindor table turned to glare at the Slytherins, who ignored them, when they noticed where Harry was looking. Harry rolled his eyes at Draco's problem, then he made a small jerk of his head towards Ginny, who was seated next to him and raised an eyebrow in a questioning manner after checking to see if anyone was watching other than the staff. Draco gave a small nod and Harry grabbed a sheet of parchment and a quill from his bag. With those items in hand he mimed signing something and received a negative response from the blonde. Another quick glance around proved that everyone was absorbed in their food and Harry then mouthed 'coward' with a mock sneer. He received a glare accented with a barely noticeable shrug. Harry chuckled silently and finished off his lunch. As he devoured the rest of his lunch, Hedwig flew into the hall and landed in front of Hermione. She gave the owl some beef from her plate and removed the rather thick packet her parents sent. As she read her mail Harry scratched his owl's feathers as a reward and Ron started the inquisition up again, just like Harry thought they would. "Now come on, Harry, spill it. We know you're seeing someone. We overheard McGonagall tell Flitwick that you were." Ron had a big triumphant grin on his face as he announced that fact to Harry. "It's none of your business. I'm not telling so don't bother asking again." Harry replied while crumbling a roll and feeding the bits to Hedwig. "Why not?" Ron was starting to whine. "We're your best friends." "I know that, but Skeeter's year probation is over and if I say who it is it'll be plastered on the front page of the Daily Prophet in the morning. Even worse, the facts would be all wrong." "Come on tell us. We'll charm a room to give us privacy." "No, Ron. I'm not going to tell you. You'll have to wait until we're ready to make it public." "Harry…" Ron started, but stopped when Hermione waved her hand in his face. "Harry you've got to read this." Hermione handed him a few newspaper clippings with a worried look on her face. Harry went pale as he read the articles. The first one's headline was 'Surrey Family Missing, Nephew Sought For Questioning By Constables'. The rest of the articles followed in the same vein as Harry handed each read clipping to either Ron or Ginny. As he continued reading with growing alarm, he absently opened the box of chocolates and ate one. As he chewed the piece of chocolate covered caramel he remembered the blue flowered fabric in the glass globe on McGonagall's mantel. All the facts rearranged themselves in his head and he came to the conclusion that McGonagall had something to do with the Dursley's disappearance, mostly likely with help from Severus. Harry decided to keep that information to himself and turned his attention to Hermione. "Hermione, show these to Professor McGonagall please. Thankfully she and the other Professors can provide me with an alibi." "Okay Harry. Do you think they're all right?" Hermione asked still wearing a worried expression. "Yeah, they probably took off hoping I'll never find them again." Harry replied with a shrug. "They could have. You can never tell with those rotten muggle relatives of his." Ron added while shoveling more food into his mouth. Harry reached out to snag another chocolate and as he did so the lid caught his attention. He felt the blood draining from is face as he read the magical inscription that appeared in sparkling gold letters. All it takes is one chocolate. That one piece of chocolate you have just eaten will make you spout a heartfelt truth to your one true love and this spell lasts for 24 hours. Harry's thoughts raced without direction in his head. He didn't know how deep Severus' feelings for him ran. He was afraid to find out that Severus was his one true love and that he wasn't Severus'. As he glanced around the Hall he noticed several other people glancing in horror at their boxes of chocolate. It seems that Harry wasn't the only victim of the headmaster's today. "Harry… HARRY!" Hermione shouted at him as she was waving a hand in his face, trying to get his attention. "What's wrong?" Wordlessly he handed the lid of his box to Hermione and watched as she and Ron looked at the box in disbelief. Both shoved their boxes as far away from them as possible. Harry's thoughts continued to race through his head so fast and so disordered that it was making him ill. He looked towards the staff table and saw the Headmaster watching him with a benign smile on his face. Harry gave him a pain filled accusing look and did the only thing he could think of. He fled. He charged through the doors of the Great Hall and didn't stop despite hearing his friends calling him. He then went outside and hid in the nearest clump of bushes. Trying his best to focus, he slowly shifted into his Animagus form. He loped across the school grounds clumsily looking for a place to hole up so he could think. As he circled around Hagrid's hut he noticed a gap between the floor of the hut and the ground. He moved closer to inspect the opening and decided he could fit through the opening. Slowly he made his way through the hole and into the space beneath Hagrid's sturdy home. There was more than enough space and it smelled like a Niffler had made a home there at one point. Harry curled himself into a tight ball and started to sort through his thoughts. He knew what his problem was, but couldn't think of any favourable outcomes for his current predicament. He didn't want to hurt Severus nor did he wish to be hurt. His relationship with the volatile man was too new and too fragile in his opinion to stand the stress Dumbledore heaped on them this time. He didn't know what to do. Staying hidden under Hagrid's home for the next twenty four hours sounded like a good idea to his distressed mind despite the problems his disappearance was likely to cause. Eventually his panic stricken thoughts took their toll and his mind shut down pulling him into sleep. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Sequel to Holiday Hell. When his failure to make Harry and Severus work together becomes apparent, Albus believes that they're hiding something deeper and spikes their Valentine's candy. Based on a Challenge by Ataraxis at www.livejournal.com/community/hproundrobin. You'll find the conditions in the challenges section. A/N: Sorry for the delay and many thanks to those who were patient. Twenty-four Hour TortureChapter 3By Corgi Minerva floated through the rest of her evening on the wave of pride she felt for Harry's accomplishment. Not even Fudge's interruption of her limited private time with Albus could shake her wonderful mood. She woke up the next morning feeling the same way and cheerfully arrived at breakfast, after parting ways with Harry at her office. She sat down in her usual place and smile out over the students chattering sleepily in the hall. Severus arrived shortly after she did and several moments later Harry rushed in and sat with his friends. She laughed when she noticed the slightly hunted look Harry had on his face when he became aware of the predatory stares of the witches around the room. She struggled not to howl in mirth when Severus began to growl very quietly as he too noticed the covetous glances at Harry and snarled almost silently 'mine' so only he and Minerva could hear it. Eventually the room slowly emptied and Harry scurried out to his first class. Minerva couldn't help the bright smile she flashed at the young wizards back as he left the Great Hall. Minerva's first three classes of the day consisted of just first and second year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws and she breathed a sigh of relief when all three classes went by without any major accidents. Everyone did their work and there weren't any little spats in the halls. She watched between classes as the witches pressed Valentine's into the hands of their male counterparts and then scurrying away while giggling. Minerva headed to the Great Hall for lunch and as she got closer to the staff entrance a feeling of dread began to curl inside her stomach. She sat in her seat next to a much too cheerful Albus and that bad feeling multiplied ten fold. Albus was up to something and she was at a loss as to what to do about it. Severus arrived, again before Harry did, and scowled at the heart shaped box in red satin next to his plate. Minerva frowned when she noticed the box. Albus knew better than to give something so blatantly festive to the taciturn Potions Master. Even with Harry softening the jagged edges of Severus' personality, the man didn't not approve of public displays of emotion or affection and this red heart shaped box was definitely in that category. Harry knew and respected Severus' point of view, despite their desire to keep their relationship from Albus, so she couldn't understand why Harry would give Severus such an obviously emotional gift. Before she could concentrate more on the problem the mail arrived and she found herself intercepting a barrage of owls heading for Harry. Once the mail situation of was settled she went back to puzzling out that mystery she allowed her glance to rake over the house tables. Then she noticed that every student had a red heart shaped candy box at their elbows, which led her to the conclusion that Harry didn't give Severus the box of candy, but Albus did and she realized that he must have tampered with the candies in the boxes. She looked out over the students and noticed that dozens of students had already sampled the chocolates. She glanced at her students table and noticed Harry reading what looked to be newspaper clippings. He turned his attention to his friends and spoke to Hermione while absent mindedly popping a chocolate into his mouth. After a few moments she noticed a rising level of noise in the hall and she glanced back at Harry and noticed the boy paling dramatically. She watched as her protégé gave the box lid to his friends and then glance up at Albus with an accusing look before fleeing the hall. Minerva looked to her lover and noticed the madly twinkling eyes staring at the door that Harry ran out of. A muttered curse from Severus kept her from venting her wrath on Albus. "Come with me," Severus snarled while pulling her out to the antechamber next to the hall. "What is the matter, Severus?" Minerva asked, concerning colouring her voice and wrinkling her forehead. Severus wordlessly handed her the lid from the candy box and she glanced at the offered item in confusion until she saw the gold letters. All it takes is one chocolate. That one piece of chocolate you have just eaten will make you spout a heartfelt truth to your one true love and this spell lasts for 24 hours. Minerva gave Severus a look of complete disbelief. "Why would Albus do something like this?" She looked at the door separating the two rooms and heard the rising sound of agitation from the students within. "He does it because he enjoys meddling in other peoples' lives and he must have his own way no matter what. I haven't a clue as to why he chose this method to torture us all." Severus snarled in frustration. "I do not need something like this now. Neither of us does." "I know Severus. Should we go look for Harry? He ran out shortly after seeing his box top." "No, let him be for now. This has him thrown off balance and he'll want to be alone so he could process this." Severus replied with absolute surety. "Are you sure that's what he needs?" Severus nodded yes in answer to Minerva's question. "What if he's afraid of hurting you? You know he'll put you before himself." "It's more likely the other way around. We're both afraid of rejection or not getting what you put out in return. We've got our families to thank for that. I'm going to head down stairs before those monsters shed blood in my dungeons." "Perhaps that's for the best, Severus. I'm going to have it out with Albus before my 7th year NEWT class. Contact me, please, if Harry shows up in your rooms later." Minerva asked as they headed back into the Great Hall. "I will, but please return the favour if he shows up in his bed." Severus gave her a stiff nod farewell and plastered his habitual mask on his face just before storming into the room. Minerva walked towards Albus with her back poker straight and a pinched expression on her face. A large number of students were still in the hall, including Harry's friends. She strode up to Albus and glared at the man. Albus smiled benignly at her, which did not bode well for her temper. Before she realized what she was doing her hand was swinging towards Albus' face. The sound of flesh striking flesh echoed in the huge room and everyone stood or sat in stunned silence. "How dare you?" Minerva snarled at the completely shocked Albus. "What right do you have to pull something like this? How many engagements are you going to ruin with this stunt? How many heartbroken children are going to be wandering the halls tonight? How many of our students have you made miserable because their families follow traditional marriage customs? Do you know, Albus? "Minerva, I didn't do this to harm anyone. I just wanted everyone to find a little happiness in these dark times, especially Severus and Harry." Albus' eyes twinkled in expectation. "Really? If you didn't harass the two of them everyday you would have noticed that they were happy without your help. Harry finally had someone in his life and Severus was happy not having to deal with Voldemort's insanity. Now you've ruined it for both of them and Harry's companion." Minerva shouted at her lover never noticing that she referred to the wizarding world's plague by his assumed name. "It surely can't be that bad, my dear. Don't worry it'll work out in the end." Albus consoled. "It may, but whether you're in any condition to see the end results is under debate. Harry and Severus are still angry about that stunt you pulled during Christmas Holiday that landed them in the hospital wing." Minerva hissed her normally pale face now a bright Weasley red. "Don't think that the three of us are going to let you off the hook for this. Actually, Albus, I think I'll start now." Minerva whipped out her wand and faster than though transfigured the Headmaster into a white mouse that squeaked in terror and began to run way. Minerva popped into her animagus for and gave chase. She chased Albus the mouse through the hallways. Their cat and mouse game lasted for ten or so minutes before Albus found a hole in the wall large enough for him to squeeze through and evade her sharp claws. Minerva stalked back to her classroom still in her feline form, growling the whole time. Her classroom door opened at her approach and she leapt up onto her desk as her 7th year NEWT class filed in behind her. Her tail swished in agitation as she waited for her students to settle down. A shadow fell over her as she sat and when she turned to the person casting the shadow she blinked in surprise. Standing nervously by her desk was Hermione Granger, clutching the newspaper clippings Minerva saw Harry reading during lunch. "I know that you're very upset Professor, but Harry asked me to show you these and they're extremely important." The young witch said. "Let me see, Ms. Granger." Minerva replied once she returned to her normal form. Granger handed over the clippings and Minerva quickly read them. She and Severus figured that there would be some sort of investigation when someone noticed the absence of the Dursley's. They didn't count on the fact that Harry would be the prime suspect. She didn't have a clue as to why they thought her young charge went to St. Brutus' Center for Incurably Criminal Boys or some such nonsense. She'd have to take care of this before Albus got wind of it. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Ms. Granger. I'll talk with the Muggle authorities this weekend." The rest of the class went smoothly though she was worried about Harry. He should have been here today, but his seat remained empty. While she left her students doing some reading she checked her quarters and found not a trace of Harry. She couldn't help the worry that filled her considering she new how fragile he could be emotionally. She was so pleased that Severus and Harry trusted her to help them keep their secret. To be honest they were the best thing that happened to the other. Her vision was covered by a red film as her animagus form's instincts welled up. She would need to meditate before going to bed tonight or she'll spent the whole night hunting rodents with Mrs. Norris. She dismissed the NEWT class and prepared for the 6th year NEWT class that was trickling in as the 7th years left. She noticed that Draco Malfoy was lagging behind and Minerva guessed that he wanted to find out about Harry. It was amazing how far the two boys have come since they laid down their differences. Things didn't go the way she expected when Ginny Weasley entered the room and sat at front of the room. Draco's eyes went glassy and he walked up to her seat. The blonde 7th year knelt before her and started to speak in earnest. Minerva quickly walked up to the pair when she noticed the young witch's brother storm back into the room in a rage. She managed to hear the last of Draco's words. "… To say that I love you. Will you give me the chance to prove it?" Draco murmured while staring into the stunned brown eyes of the youngest Weasley. "Did you eat the Headmaster's candy?" Ms. Weasley asked and the young Slytherin nodded in response. "I didn't and I don't know. I like someone else…" "Ms. Weasley if you're referring to Mr. Potter then you're setting yourself up for disappointment. He's never going to see you as anything more than a sister." Minerva interjected before she went on, hopefully without giving away Harry's orientation. "Oh." Ms. Weasley stated quietly and looked down at the young man on the floor beside her. Her eyes widened and she dug into her bag for something. "Did you send this to me, Draco?" The grey-eyed man nodded again. "I won't allow this…" Ron Weasley began to shout, but a pointed glare from Minerva shut him up quickly. "Mr. Weasley, you're sister is capable of making her own decisions and I'm sure Mr. Potter has informed Mr. Malfoy of the penalties of hurting your sister." "That he did and besides as the head of the Black family he and a handful of outdated laws are all that stands between me and my father's wrath." Draco added as he continued to look at the youngest Weasley. "Did you defy your father, Draco?" Ms. Weasley asked quietly. "Yes, I did and nearly lost my mother because of it." "How about we get together next Hogsmeade weekend with Ron and Hermione?" Ms. Weasley suggested after throwing a glare at her brother. "If that's what you'd like to do then it's fine with me. Thank you." Draco replied before standing and retrieving his books. "Let me know when you'd all like to leave next weekend and I'll meet you in the Great Hall." With that he left for his next class followed by Ms. Granger, who dragged Mr. Weasley out of the classroom. Minerva quickly restored order to her class and began the lesson. She still couldn't keep her mind off of the plight of Severus and Harry and, not for the first time that afternoon, cursed Albus' meddling ways. She hoped that Harry would return to the castle soon. You-Know-Who would love a chance to get his hands on Harry and if the young man stayed to long outside the castle it would increase the risk of his capture, unless he was in his animagus form. No one would think he was capable of doing the transformation given how he didn't show any form of talent in class. It had taken a while for her to realize that Harry didn't want to stand out and taken the necessary steps to make sure he knew what he needed to defend himself. Minerva didn't really remember actively teaching that last class of the day, nor did she remember eating her dinner. She looked out over the Gryffindor table in search of Harry and didn't see him. She also didn't find him in her rooms. She didn't receive a fire-call from Severus so instead of heading to bed she returned to her feline form and searched every hidey hole in the castle for the young man. Failing to even catch a whiff of his scent she moved her search outside, but before she could exit the castle a crash echoed through the halls and the rage filled cry of 'Peeves' rang out. Sighing, Minerva returned to her two footed self and followed the shouting to its source. For the next several hours she assisted Argus in repairing the damage the poltergeist did. Wearily Minerva returned to her quarters and spelled her robes off and her night gown on. Once that was done she promptly fell asleep and wouldn't have woken even if the entirety of Gryffindor tower traipsed through her room in a drunken roar. Morning arrived and Minerva jumped out of bed and headed to Harry's room without pausing to grab her dressing gown. She wrenched open the door and to her dismay the young man's bed wasn't slept in. A glance at his alarm clock showed that Severus should have been up for a couple of hours. Minerva lit her living room fire and grabbed a handful of floo powder. "Severus Snape," she called into the now green flames and waited for Severus to answer her. "Is there anything I can help you with, Minerva?" Severus' voice echoed into the room several moments before he appeared. "Yes. Did Harry return at all? His bed here hasn't been slept in." Minerva knew by the look on his face that Harry wasn't there either. "Shall we mount a search?" "Yes. I'll meet you in the entrance hall." Severus abruptly left his sitting room in his usual swirl of robes. Minerva hurriedly changed into her robes and heavy winter cloak. When she exited her quarters she heard frantic pounding on her office door. She opened the door and three of her Gryffindors tumbled through. "What need is so great that you felt it necessary to crack my office door?" Minerva asked, letting her irritation show. The longer she was held up the less time she'd have to search for Harry. "Professor McGonagall, Harry's missing. He was supposed to meet us and no one has seen him since lunch yesterday. The map doesn't show him in the castle or on the grounds." Ms. Granger panted while the two Weasley's and Longbottom nodded in agreement. "Damn." Minerva replied absentmindedly while her students looked at her in shock. "Follow me. I was just on my way to meet Professor Snape and begin a search." The group of five made their way quickly to the entrance hall where Severus was pacing back and forth. He didn't comment on the additions to their group and was ready to bark out orders when the doors opened to admit Remus Lupin and Narcissa Black. "What's going on?" Remus asked immediately as he sensed the worry pouring off of Minerva, Severus and the students. "Harry didn't return to his room last night. Albus pulled another of his stunts and Harry took off while upset." Minerva immediately answered, cutting off the sarcastic comment Severus was about to lob at the werewolf. "Who's covering what?" Remus asked immediately. "We'll break up into teams, one adult and one student. Lupin, take Longbottom and check the shack and Hogsmeade. Narcissa, take Ms. Weasley and search the area around the pitch. Minerva and Granger will cover the rest of the grounds while Weasley and I will search the Forbidden Forest. Anyone that finds him will send up green sparks. Any questions?" "Professor, Harry's map doesn't show him anywhere on school grounds and the map includes the majority of the forest." Granger informed Severus breathlessly. "Why do you have Potter's map?" Severus snapped at the bushy-haired witch. "Harry lets me borrow it for my patrols. We can't afford to have someone else polyjuiced as a student or teacher at this stage of the game." "Where does it show Potter on your patrol nights?" "I never bothered to look for him." "Then how do you know he hasn't figured out a way to hide himself from the map?" Severus sneered and Minerva's eyes widened in surprise. "You've your instructions, now get a move on!" Severus barked when no one could answer his last question. Every one filed out of the castle and made there way to their assigned areas to begin the search. For an hour and a half she and Granger looked into every grotto and shed on the grounds. At one point during their search, Granger's part kneazle, ginger cat showed up and his owner told him that Harry was missing. The bright feline then took off while they continued to check the area they were in. Twenty minutes after there encounter with the ginger feline, he returned tugging on their cloaks with his claws. "Meh," the feline said and began to move away from them. When they didn't follow him he returned and glared at them. "Let's follow him. He may have found Harry." Granger said and Minerva didn't respond. Instead she shifted into her own form, despite the icy snow on the ground and loped behind the huge cat. Crookshanks led the two women to Hagrid's stone hut and instead of going up to the door like they would have expected he circled around. Minerva didn't smell Harry's normal scent as she followed the ginger tom around the building. There was the overpowering scent of canine around the building. One she knew was Hagrid's Fang, but the other had hints of Harry mixed with in it. Crookshanks slithered into a hole at the base of the hut and Minerva promptly followed him in. She stopped once inside to give her eyes a moment to adjust and the mingled Harry-dog scent grew to overpowering proportions. When she was able to see clearly she saw Harry's animagus form curled up. The two felines nudged the larger canine awake and then coaxed him out of his den by the liberal application of their claws. Harry growled at them when he returned to the open and Minerva resumed her human form and ordered Granger to send up the sparks. With Crookshanks help they herded Harry back to the castle with a rapidly thinking Granger trailing behind. Minerva passed Harry's furry self over to Severus' care and followed them back to her quarters after dismissing her students and thanking them for their help. When she made it back to her quarters she saw Severus, Harry and Remus disappear into the young man's room. Now that she knew where her charge was she collapsed into her chair in relief after acknowledging Narcissa's goodbye as she left to visit her son. Now that the two spell bound men were together to deal with their immediate problem she was free to plot against Albus. After all he needed to suffer for all the headaches he caused yesterday. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Twenty-four Hour TortureChapter 4By Corgi Harry was awoken by insistent thuds on each side of his body. He opened his sleepy green eyes and looked around cautiously. He saw two cats and the darker one had a slightly familiar scent. His human mind wasn't meshing with the animal instincts and he struggled for a moment to quash the one that wanted him to chase the two cats in his den. He regretted his victory over the animal a moment later as the two started digging their claws into his fur and flesh, chasing him toward the den's entrance. Harry burst into the light and growled at the two cats. Once in the open he identified one of the two felines as his Head of House, those square spectacles around her eyes was a dead give-a-way. He turned to look at the other cat and recognized him as Crookshanks by his pushed in face. Hermione was near by and sending sparks into the sky at Professor McGonagall's order. The three then herded him towards the castle. Harry was grateful that they didn't make him return to his human form. He really didn't want to talk to anyone and he made sure that he didn't look anyone in the eye as they entered the building. He smelt the addition of several other people joining them and their whole group headed towards McGonagall's office. Long before they reached her office he heard her dismiss someone and several footsteps began walking in the other direction. He still didn't look up though he noticed some details out of the corner of his eyes. He saw dark trousers to one side and slightly lighter ones on the other. When they arrived a gentle hand on his neck led him towards his room. Harry jumped up on his bed and tried to bury his muzzle into the bedding. Unfortunately he wasn't allowed to hide from the world anymore. Long slender fingers dug under his jaw and lifted his muzzle. Harry quickly identified Severus, and took a deep breath to memorize the older man's scent. He was afraid, thanks to the Headmaster, that he'd never see the man again. His heart and mind were in turmoil because of the situation. He didn't want to hurt Severus, but he also didn't want to be hurt either. All his worrying about his getting hurt went flying out the window as Severus began to speak. "Harry, I love you with all my heart and I would never willingly hurt you. I would do anything for you and I don't know how I would live without you." Severus whispered and his words made Harry forget his reluctance to look anyone in the eye. He saw sincerity in Severus' dark eyes and he thought he saw the shimmer of magic gleaming in those eyes, but Harry dismissed it as his imagination. How could anyone see magic at work? Severus' eyes were also slightly glassy, like a person just put under the Imperious Curse, but all thought left his head as he felt the magic in the chocolate take hold. Everything within him focused solely on Severus and nothing else matter, except the joy of seeing him. He needed desperately to tell the man how he felt.. "I love you! I love you so much. I was so afraid of hurting you when I saw what the Headmaster did. I don't ever want to lose you." Harry told Severus enthusiastically. Laughter burst out around him and Harry looked over to see Remus doubled over in laughter. Hurt crept in as he saw Severus trying to restrain his mirth and Harry tried to leap off the bed in order to hide beneath it. A strong arm wrapped itself around his neck and prevented him from fleeing. Another hand began to stroke over his back in a comforting gesture. Severus' scent filled his nostrils and when Harry relaxed, Severus forced him to look up once again. Severus smiled gently when he was sure he had Harry's full attention. "I hope you remember every word of your speech. I didn't understand one word since I don't speak mutt." Harry's eyes flew wide open in shock and he turned to look at his hands and was surprised to see that he forgotten which form he was in when he saw his furry paws. He must have been barking his fool head off. No wonder why they were laughing hysterically at him. Harry ducked his head in embarrassment, but didn't hesitate from leaning into Severus' hand as the older man petted him. "What did Albus do to put Harry into this state and when did he learn to run around on all fours?" Remus asked after allowing Harry some time to get over his embarrassment. "First off, Moot here was supposed to be your birthday present. That was why Harry wanted you here for the next full moon." Harry looked up and questioned his partner with a tilt of his head and Harry saw that Remus had a similar look. "Remus, your old nickname was Moony, yes?" Remus nodded and Severus continued. "Black, if I remember correctly, was called Padfoot." Another nod from Remus prompted Severus to go on. "Take a good look at Harry's animagus form. What does he look like to you?" Severus paused and let Remus get a good look at Harry. Harry decided that Remus could use a clearer view of his form and stood carefully on the bed. After all it wouldn't do him any good if he hurt Severus because of his lack of control over his form, despite the easy return from Hagrid's hut earlier. Remus stared at his black furry body and Harry waited patiently while he did so. "I see a definite resemblance to Padfoot, but there's something else that I can't place my finger on." Remus said with a puzzled from on his face. "Look closely. Surely you could see something similar to yourself?" Severus prompted. "Damn. If anyone sees him during a full moon the Department of Magical Creatures will be here before the moon sets." Remus said with a startled voice as Severus comment sunk in. "Make sure that you're not seen at night, especially those nights. Other than that I can see where you've gotten the name from, Severus." "It certainly fits. Everything's moot when it comes to the brat." Severus answered, but not without a scratch behind Harry's canine ears. Harry responded by enthusiastically licking Severus' face. The older wizard pushed him away with a scowl, but with no anger or annoyance in his eyes. "I don't mind you slobbering on me, but I prefer that you're human when you do so." Severus told him in a dry voice, earning himself a splutter from Remus. "That's too much information for me. I don't need any details or tidbits that give me any disturbing images from either of you." Remus said with a shudder. "Time to turn back into a human, brat. I wish to see how fast we can get your werewolf to flee the room." Harry barked in laughter, silently thanking Merlin that he sounded nothing like Padfoot when he did so, while wagging his bushy tail furiously. He nearly knocked himself off the bed because of said tail, but once he recovered he sat down and concentrated. When he opened his eyes he didn't notice any change and looked down to see his black paws still in place. He then went through every little thing that McGonagall taught him. He couldn't feel the magic flowing like it did during his lessons and he began to panic. His yelps sounded shrilly in his ears as he lost himself to his fear. He couldn't hear the voices of the two men in the room with him over the sound of his panic and moments before he could start hyperventilating strong hands gripped his head. Those hands forced him to look into their owners eyes. "Relax, Harry. Everything will be fine. Just relax." Severus repeated over and over and Harry saw Remus run out of the room. Moments later Remus returned with Professor McGonagall in tow. The older witch sat down next to Harry and helped Severus to calm him further before she led Harry through the exercises to return to his human form. It took several tries before managed to regain his form, but he eventually returned to normal with a sigh. He noticed after a few moments that he was still shaking with fear and when Severus became aware of it he gathered Harry into his arms. Harry settled into his lover's arms as he tried to get over his fright. "Why couldn't he change back, Minerva?" Severus ground out. Harry kept his face buried in Severus' chest as he listened to his Head of House's response. "It happens all the time, Severus. He just spent too long in his animagus form. Since he only transformed completely once before, the form's instincts took over and refused to release control after he spent the night in it. It may happen again, but the more he shifts in and out of it he'll never fall prey to his forms instincts." "So it wasn't any outside influence that prevented him from returning to his human form?" Remus asked with a concerned frown. "That's right, though I feel safe to say that it's Albus' fault that he had the difficulty to begin with. If he hadn't felt the need to hide, this wouldn't have happened." "Severus didn't get a chance to explain why Harry felt the need to disappear yesterday." "Albus hasn't left the two of them alone since Christmas Holiday ended. He decided to lecture them on their behavior every moment of everyday." McGonagall snarled, anger making her eyes flash. "Yesterday's stunt was the place a true love charm on the chocolates he gave out yesterday. I caused uproar all over the school. For Harry it was just too much. The results you arrived for." "I can see why he was upset. Harry tends to appreciate what he had more than the others his age. Anything that risked his relationship with Severus would upset him." Remus replied sagely, but Harry was getting annoyed that they talked about him like he wasn't there. "Harry is sitting right here." Severus snapped, saving Harry the trouble of doing so himself. "There's no reason for you two to be acting like he wasn't in the room with you." "Sorry, Harry. I do have an idea about Albus' well deserved punishment." McGonagall said quietly, but sincerely. "Spit it out, Minerva." Severus demanded and Harry turned to look at his Head of House. "I think we'll settle Albus down with those others who have pissed us off." Minerva said with a smirk that looked out of place on her face. Harry was a little shocked at the less than perfect language that spilled from her mouth, but he words penetrated and the lights in his brain clicked on. "You mean you're going to stick him in that globe on your mantle with the Dursleys?" Harry asked. "How did you know?" Professor McGonagall asked as she shot a suspicious glance at Severus. "I saw my Aunt's favourite blue dress plastered against the glass. I didn't figure it out until Hermione showed me the newspaper clippings her parents sent." "Oh dear, I had forgotten about those." McGonagall said and turned her attention to Severus. "The Muggle please men are looking for Harry. They think he's responsible for the Dursleys' disappearance. Harry, why do they think you go to a school called St. Brutus' Center for Incurably Criminal Boys?" "That's the Dursley's excuse for where I am during the school year. After all they can't have anyone believing that I go to a better school than their Duddikins." Harry spat in response. "We'll have to deal with this before lunch, Minerva. We can't have the muggle authorities taking Harry as he exits platform 9 ¾ or poking about in his background. It'll expose our world if they are persistent enough." Severus said in a decisive tone. "Then we'll leave right after breakfast. Remus, would you care to join us?" McGonagall invited as she walked out of the room to ring the bell on her mantle. "No thank you, Minerva. I have to collect Narcissa and bring her back to the manor. She wanted to return some of Draco's belongings after they were checked for anything harmful. Tonks and Kingsley are waiting for us at the gates." Remus gave Harry a hug before saying goodbye to his fellow order members and leaving to hunt down Draco and his mother. Harry reluctantly left Severus' lap and walked slowly into his Head of House's sitting room. Where the sofa was moments before there was now a small round table with three chairs around it. As he and Severus approached it a house-elf Harry didn't know popped into the room bearing a covered tray, which she set on the table. When McGonagall thanked the small being and dismissed her, the elf popped out a gain, but not without a bright smile for Harry and Severus. Harry sat down at one of the settings and quietly began to eat. It never seems to fail. Anytime he resolves one crisis another rears its ugly head. He was quickly becoming more and more nervous as the meal progressed. He was so lost in his thoughts that he jumped when Severus' hand rested on his thigh. "It'll be okay, Harry. Minerva has a Muggle style file for her Muggle born students under a fake school name." "But will the authorities believe it? The Dursley's have told everyone that I went to St. Brutus' for years." "We'll take care of it, even if we have to Oblivate some people and alter their memories." McGonagall added. "Now go shower! You smell like a Niffler." Severus ordered Harry with a slap to his rump. "Wear you school uniform, Harry, but not the outer robes." McGonagall added as Harry headed to the bathroom rubbing his behind as he went. "Severus, we'll meet you in the Entrance all in twenty minutes." "I'll be there." Harry heard Severus say as he closed the bathroom door behind him. Harry quickly showered and he edged back into his room through the door that connected it to the bathroom. He pulled out a fresh pair of pants, trousers, shirt, vest and tie and changed into them quickly. He tried to tame his messy hair, but soon gave it up as a lost cause like he always did. He mad sure he had the fake glasses on before leaving the room. The sofa was back and Harry collected his new coat before sitting on the large piece of furniture to wait for McGonagall. His Head of House didn't keep him waiting long. She came out of he room with her hair in its usual severe bun, but instead of her usual robes she work a very smart business suit that Harry seen many of the profession women at King's Cross wearing. He noted that the piping on her white blouse had her clan's tartan, which brought a small bit of the familiar to Harry and put him at ease. "Are you ready, Harry?" She asked quietly and when Harry nodded she headed straight out the door. "Now when we get to the please man station you'll let Professor Snape and I do the talking." She stressed the professor. "Yes, ma'am." Harry whispered as they reached the Entrance Hall. They were the first to arrive, but they didn't have to wait for long. Severus briskly strode up the stairs from the dungeon and he wasn't alone. Draco was jogging along side Severus and he had something in his hand. Severus began to speak quietly with McGonagall while Draco strode right up to him and rolled us his sleeves. "What are you doing?" Harry asked the taller blonde. As he watched a strange contraption was being strapped to him arm. "I'm giving you my spare wand holster. No one will be able to see it or your wand so you won't have your wand taken away." Draco responded as he buckled the last strap into place. "Thanks, Draco." "You're welcome. Now to release your wand touch the tip of your thumb to the bottom of your pinky. Like this." Draco demonstrated the release and showed how the wand slipped into his hand. Harry tried it a couple of times to make sure he wouldn't drop his wand when he triggered the release. He smiled gratefully at Draco, who looked like he was going to beg for a favour. "What's on your mind, Draco?" "Hmmm. Do you think you could talk to Ginny's brothers? Before they arrived in mass to kill me, that is." "You spoke to Ginny?" Harry asked, amazement colouring his voice. "Yes. I ate one of Dumbledore's damn chocolates. So are you going to help me or not?" "I'll owl Mrs. Weasley and see if she could leash the rest of the boys. How did Ron find out?" "I spoke to her after transfiguration yesterday. Her brother was there." "And he wasn't happy." Harry stated baldly. "Not in the least, but you'll be able to get out of going to the next Hogsmeade weekend. Ginny's brother will be trying to cave my face in and Granger's going to be too busy holding him back." Draco responded with a smile. "All right you two, you've gossiped enough. We have to go." Severus interrupted before Harry could start teasing Draco. Instead he waved goodbye to Draco and followed Severus and McGonagall out of the castle and along the path to Hogsmeade. They went to the Three Broomsticks and flooed to the Leaky cauldron. Once in London they took the underground to the stop nearest the Dursleys' and took a cab to the nearest police station. It was their good luck or bad, as far as Harry was concerned, to catch the detectives assigned to the Dursley's case. McGonagall took the lead and did her best to keep the two older men from questioning him, but they weren't cooperating with her. The next two hours found Harry being grilled by two Muggle detectives. It wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't for the fact that they asked the same questions over and over. The only difference was the way they worded those questions. It eventually wore on his nerves and just before he reached his breaking point they stopped to give him a rest. Harry sagged in his seat as the two detectives left the room. Severus shifted over and placed a hand on his shoulder. All Harry wanted to do was climb into the older man's lap and pretend the world didn't exist. He didn't dare do so. He knew relationships, such as the one he had with Severus, were frowned upon by the Muggles, if not illegal. He was too out of touch with the Muggle world to know if the standards were relaxed or not. It was better to not take that chance. After a few moments of silence the detectives came back, but they weren't alone this time. Following the two men was a thin woman of Indian decent. Harry looked closely at her and was stunned at the resemblance to Padma and Parvati Patil. Was this woman their mother or aunt? He hoped she was. It would make this ordeal easier. "Mrs. McGonagall, Mr. Snape, Mr. Potter, this is Mrs. Patil. She's a social worker with Child Services." The older of the two detectives told them. Harry still didn't know either man's name. "Kumari, it's nice to see you again. It's a shame that it has to be under these circumstances." McGonagall said immediately. "Professor McGonagall, it is good to see you again. I hope Parvati isn't giving you any problems." Mrs. Patil responded with a smile. Her voice still had traces of her homeland in it. "Not at all. She still needs to curb her tendency to gossip, but otherwise I find no fault with Parvati." "Good. I'll have another talk about her extra curricular activity." Parvati's mother said before opening a file she brought with her. "For some reason Harry's file is incomplete. It says nothing about attending secondary school and the police report says he goes to St. Brutus' Center for Incurably Criminal Boys? Why?" "That's what my relatives tell everyone they meet. It gives them a handy excuse to explain why they hadn't bought me any clothes." Harry ground out. Severus squeezed his shoulder prompting him to calm himself. "Mrs. Patil. The Dursleys have repeatedly neglected Harry's physical and emotional needs. They abandoned him repeated when they went out or left for vacation. They barely fed him at all and only touched him when they disciplined him or had no choice. It's a miracle he received proper medical care." Severus informed the officials. "In fact they never brought him anything. Even his glasses came from a charity. The only new clothes he owned were his school uniforms. We had to drag him out to get clothes after the holiday since he didn't get a chance to collect money from his trust." McGonagall added. "I see. I'll change his records to indicate his school and I'll need a copy of his school documents for his file. What are the chances of him returning to the Dursley's after the school year?" "He won't be." Professor McGonagall and Severus answered in unison, causing Mrs. Patil to smile. "A Gryffindor and a Slytherin agreeing on something. What is the world coming to?" "What indeed." Severus replied dryly as Patil grabbed the file McGonagall handed to here. "I'll copy these and you should be able to go in a half hour. There's no way Harry could have done anything while in Scotland. Parvati has told me he never leaves for Christmas Holidays." "That's true and if he did it would be to spend the holidays with the Weasleys." McGonagall added as Patil left the room. The half hour wait for him dragged on and on. Harry just wanted to leave so he could hide in the dungeons with Severus. The longer he waited the surlier he became and the tighter Severus' grip on his shoulder became. He really wanted to go home. He still needed to talk to Severus about earlier since the man didn't understand him when the potion kicked in for him. Finally they were allowed to leave after another torturous bought of questions. The left as quickly as they could and returned to the Leaky Cauldron in the same manner the left. Once there McGonagall asked for a private dining room. Lunch became a strategy meeting for the imprisoning of the 'Meddling Old Fool' campaign and as Harry listened quietly Severus talked McGonagall into spiking the Headmaster's tea during their evening get together. Fawkes was pivotal in this plan since neither Severus nor McGonagall knew the spell the Headmaster used to place them into the snow globe during Christmas Holiday. Harry found out that Fawkes did the honours for the Dursleys and he believed the bird would be more than willing to send his wizard into exile with Harry's relatives. From what McGonagall was able to tell, Fawkes wasn't speaking to Dumbledore. As Harry pondered the situation something popped into his head and it was an important bit of information. "You know we'll need to make the globe magic proof. Otherwise the headmaster will just spell himself out." Harry told the two adults, who were doing most of the plotting. "Something we've forgotten about. He mostly likely developed the spell himself." McGonagall murmured as she sipped her tea. "Also there's no reason to give him a way to avoid the Dursleys or have a means to shut them up when the whine about being imprisoned." Severus added with his cruel smirk firmly in place. The rest of lunch went quietly as they finalized their plans, deciding to bring Flitwick in on the operation. The flooed back to Hogsmeade and walked back to the castle. When they arrived back at the school, Hermione and Ron accosted him the moment they caught sight of him and their professors. "Harry, where have you been? Are you okay? What's going to happen with the constables?" Hermione babbled while Ron stared at him with a worried frown. "One question at a time, Hermione. We just came from the Surrey police station and have cleared up the Dursley mess. I'm okay, but I'm still angry with the Headmaster for yesterday." Harry replied in a quiet voice. There was no need to inform everyone in the castle about his life. "Did you find your true love, Harry?" Hermione asked, curiosity making her brown eyes shine. "Yes I have." Harry responded and after a few moments of silence Hermione fidgeted and asked what she really wanted to know. "Well, who is it?" "I'm not telling. What I said yesterday still stands." "Hermione, you should have known he wasn't going to tell us." Ron said quietly. He paused a moment and began speaking again. "Harry, you'll have to come with me next Hogsmeade weekend. Malfoy's taking Ginny and I need help watching him." "No. Draco's not going to do anything to her and she can take care of herself. Ginny's shown Draco the business end of her wand enough times to cow him if she doesn't like his behaviour. You're going to need to keep an eye out for Malfoy senior. He may be lurking about trying to get his hands on Draco." Harry replied firmly. "Then you can help me do that too." Ron said in a slightly desperate voice. "I'm afraid Mr. Potter will not be able to go. He'll be serving detention for the month for his little stunt yesterday, which starts immediately. Come along, Potter." Severus informed them and turned to head into the dungeons. "See you later, guys." Harry said before running to catch up with Severus. Harry followed the taller man to his office and did his best to put on an angry face for any Slytherins hanging around. Once safely in Severus' office Harry released a sigh of relief. Having remembered his promise to help with the infirmary order from Madam Pomfrey, Harry waited for Severus to decide where they were going to work. "We'll work my private laboratory. I don't want to be bothered while we work." Severus said after consulting a parchment on his desk. "The list Pomfrey has sent down is larger than normal. Albus' stunt has caused far more problems than we thought." "Okay. I need to change. I don't want to spill anything on my school clothes." "Request a change of clothes from Dobby. I'll set the cauldrons up after I change." "Okay, Severus. May I stay tonight or are you not up for company?" "You may stay, just don't expect much tonight. With this list we're going to be too tired for anything else." "That's okay. I just want to be with you." Harry said quietly. After the near catastrophe caused by the Headmaster Harry felt the need to stay as close to Severus as possible. Severus gave him a rare smile before leaving the room to Harry. Harry called Dobby and requested clothes for the lab, tomorrow morning as well as his sleep wear. Moments after the excitable house-elf left, he returned carrying Harry's clothes. He thanked his old friend and headed to the bedroom to change and put his other clothes in the drawer Severus reserved for his use. During his wait for Dobby, Severus had slipped out of the room. Five minutes later Harry was dressed and heading for the lab. He slipped silently through the door and went to the sink. Severus insisted he wash his hands before preparing the ingredients and he did so while the older man waited. He settled down and started working on the list of potions Severus assigned him. They spent the rest of the afternoon working in silent harmony. Harry smiled proudly as he crossed out the last potion on his list. After he cleaned up his work area he moved to Severus' table and waited for instructions. Surprisingly, Severus had finished the last of his potions too. Despite the long list of potions they had to make, it only took them until to finish every potion. Of course it helped that Severus could work on four potions at the same time. Harry wished that he had the time to stop and just watch as Severus worked. The man's many physical faults simply disappeared as he worked in his chosen field. "We'll eat dinner down here, but afterwards we have to meet at Minerva's. She wants to get Albus tonight and we need to move her furniture so Fawkes has room to maneuver and Filius room to cast." Severus said as he placed the last of his knives into their draw. "All right. I'll call Dobby while you finish up. Is there anything you want?" "No, just get what ever they have ready in the kitchens." They ate dinner in the same companionable silence they worked in earlier. Harry didn't need to hear Severus' voice. He loved basking in the older wizard's presence. Severus banished the dishes when they were done and they flooed to McGonagall's rooms, where they immediately set to moving the furniture in the sitting room off to the side, leaving the center of the room clear. When they were done doing that task Severus walked through the room and checked all the doors and windows, his habits as a spy still in full working order as Harry watched him. When Severus reached Harry's bedroom door, the older man reached out and pulled a piece of parchment off the ornate wood, read it, and handed it to him. Harry and Severus, There's been a change in plans. I'll be bringing Albus to my office instead of having tea in his and forcing Fawkes to bring him down later. That way those blasted portraits in his office won't be able to squeal on us. We'll still need to clear the sitting room and Filius will arrive at 8:30 for his part. Please keep the floo clear for him. Minerva. Harry watched as Severus strode to the door that separated McGonagall's rooms from her office and cast a spell he didn't know at the piece of oak. "What did you do to the door?" Harry asked, letting his curiosity get the better of him. "I made the door see through from this side. This way we can watch the old coot fall victim to my potion and be ready to assist Minerva in moving Albus into the sitting room." "Okay." Harry replied, unfortunately for him a mental picture formed of the Headmaster and McGonagall doing something other than drinking tea. He felt like vomiting and his reaction obviously caught Severus' attention. "What's wrong, Harry? You're becoming rather green around the gills." "Bad Mental Picture." "What about?" "You really don't want to know, do you?" Harry said and Severus indicated with a nod that he did want to know. "You asked for it. I had the thought of them having sex on her office floor when we looked through the door." Severus went a little paler than normal before a thoughtful look crossed his face. "When I was younger I had a morbid curiosity about what the Headmaster did with his bearding during sex. It would be a prime opportunity to find out and think of the blackmail potential afterwards." Severus' eyes glittered with some emotion Harry couldn't identify. "We've got some time to wait before we get our revenge on Albus. Come." Severus headed for Harry's room and didn't look back. Harry grinned and followed wondering if he'd get the opportunity to 'christen' his bed. There weren't many instances where they were alone in McGonagall's suite and though he was tired after the afternoon of brewing potions he really hoped that Severus would be up for something more than a cuddle. Harry's wish seemed to be coming true as he was tossed onto his bed the moment he crossed the threshold of his room. He didn't get a chance to get over his surprise when he heard the door slam shut and a hot, hungry and aggressive mouth closed over his. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Twenty-four Hour TortureChapter 5By Corgi Severus clamped his mouth firmly over Harry's after he tossed the younger man onto the bed. When air became an issue he broke the kiss and panted for air. Harry's eyes were glazed with desire and Severus wanted nothing more than to take him right now. He glanced at the clock on Harry's nightstand. They had a fair amount of time before Flitwick arrived, but to be on the safe side he spelled the door and room to prevent anyone from barging in or hearing their activities. Their privacy protected he turned his attention to remove the largest of obstacles between them, their garments. That was taken care of by a casual flick of his wand and he covered Harry's now bare body with his own. Harry mewled in pleasure as Severus blanketed him and Severus began to feast on the pale neck in front of him. Harry moaned deep in his chest and fisted Severus' hair. At the sound Severus grew impossibly hard and he decided right then that foreplay wasn't necessary. He needed to stake his claim and both were too desperate for contact with each other after Albus' stunt. Severus pulled open the draw of Harry's nightstand and rummaged through the contents, looking for something suitable to use as lubricant. To his surprise he came across one of the vials of specially brewed ones he made for him and Harry. He gave Harry a curious look as he showed the younger man his find. "Wishful thinking?" He asked with a smirk, jiggling the ½ empty vial in Harry's face. "Yes and several serious sessions with righty and lefty after the Headmaster's many interruptions of our private time." Harry responded and set to teasing Severus' nipples as he waited. "Brat." Severus hissed as the younger man stimulated the nubs. "Knees up, now!" Severus smirked as Harry quickly obeyed his order. Severus coated his fingers with the slippery substance and swiftly prepared Harry after shoving a pillow beneath the younger man's hips. Harry squirmed desperately seeking more contact. Severus pulled his fingers out and before Harry could protest their absence, he began to push is cock into the lust driven body beneath him. Harry's ankles locked behind his back once he was fully seated. Severus didn't give them any time to adjust; instead he immediately began to rapidly move in and out of Harry's welcoming heat. It was much rougher than normal, but he couldn't help being so. Between the agony of possibly losing Harry to someone else because of Albus and then the fear of something having happened to the younger man during his disappearance the day before made him desperate to make Harry his in every way possible. Harry wasn't complaining. In fact, he was demanding that Severus move faster and harder. Instead of answering Harry's demands he made one of his own. "What did you say to me earlier, Harry?" Severus growled, slowing the pace of his thrusts down. "Severus, please!" Harry shrieked as Severus slowed his movements. "Tell me, Harry. Tell me, now!" "I said…" Harry panted, struggling to keep his eyes open long enough to look Severus in the eye. "I said that I love you! I love you so… I love you so much. I was afrai… afraid of hurting you when I saw… I saw what the Headmaster did. I don't… I don't ever want to lose you." Severus rewarded Harry by going faster and harder, making sure to hit the slighter man's sweet spot on every stroke. Harry cried out and shook every time he did so. As Severus pounded into his lover he admired the glistening sweat that made Harry glow by the light of the candle on the nightstand beside the bed. He moved faster and faster as he reveled in the tightness clenching his prick. He could feel the heat caused by friction building as they moved together. He had only a very miniscule part of his mind not overwhelmed by their lovemaking and it was wondering how he could have fallen so deeply in love with anyone, never mind his childhood nemesis' son. That thought was answered when his eyes connected with the Harry's burning green. He could see the love the other had for him and how deep it went. It was there only for a brief moment before the younger man closed his eyes as he went over the edge, cumming while screaming Severus' name. Severus plunged into the overly relaxed body of his lover several more times before following the younger man into bliss. Severus leaned over and captured Harry's mouth in a searing kiss, sucking what little air the smaller man managed to gulp down after he climaxed. After making Harry utterly boneless he turned his attention to Harry's neck once again. This time he was going to make sure everyone in the castle knew that Harry was taken. He sucked until the love bite he was marking his mate with was prominent enough for his liking. He slipped out of Harry and settled down next to the slighter form of his lover, who rolled until he could rest his shaggy head on Severus' chest. He glanced at the clock before settling down to bask in the afterglow. It was short lived as the time crept closer to Minerva's tea with Albus and Filius' arrival. "We have to get up, Harry. Professor Flitwick will be here shortly." Severus told the younger man. "I'm up. I wouldn't miss caging the Headmaster for anything." Harry replied while rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "I wonder how long it'll be before he resorts to strangling the Dursley's with his bare hands." Severus watched hungrily as Harry slipped out of bed, but before he could temp himself again he used a cleaning charm on them both. He was about to remove the odors from them and the room when Harry went to the bathroom to return with a bottle of cologne. Harry splashed a bit on himself as he walked across the room and handed to bottle to Severus. "It was a gift from Hermione." Harry answered the unspoken question sheepishly. "Won't that aid Miss Granger in her hunt for your paramour?" "Yes, but she'll figure it out eventually, most likely by lifting my cloak from my bag during class. She's frustrated by my lack of candidness and she'll take it upon herself to find the answer." "Perhaps Ms. Granger requires some detentions with Filch?" "You'll have to actually catch her spying on us," Harry responded, but hastily corrected himself at the glare Severus leveled at him, "or trying to anyway." "That's better. The Dark Lord hasn't managed to plant a spy in the Order or School since I began teaching here. Ms. Granger would hardly be a challenge to spot." Harry just smiled at him and allowed him to decide whether to use the cologne or not, which Severus did especially when his mind pointed out that Harry just told him that he didn't care who knew about their relationship. After dabbing the surprisingly tasteful Muggle cologne on, Severus deodorized the bedroom and left the room, closing the door behind him. Severus glanced quickly through the room and noticed that Harry had perched himself on one of the displaced armchairs, as if he wanted to be as far away from Severus as possible. The boy was fidgeting in his seat, keeping up the act that he didn't wish to be in the same room as him. The fire flared green and Filius stumbled out of the fireplace, his cheerful smile securely fastened to his face. Severus melted into the shadows by Harry's bedroom door, as was his habit in any gathering and watched as Filius spoke to Harry and searched the shadows for him. "Ah, there you are, Severus. How are you this evening?" Filius chirped at him once he spotted him in the shadows. "I am well, Filius. And yourself?" Severus responded and had to hide his amusement at Harry's dropped jaw. While he normally was brusque with the majority of the staff, Minerva, Filius and Albus were the few he treasured of the lot and took pains to pleasant while alone with them. "Good, good. Are you ready to get back at Albus? I must admit I've been dying to get back at him for all those pranks he keeps pulling on me!" Filius said while rubbing his hands together eagerly and Severus had to swallow down a snort of amusement at the ever increasing astonishment on Harry's face. Filius noticed the shocked look on his lover's face and turned to address Harry. "Albus is as bad and Fred and George Weasley and you never know when he'd strike. Two weeks ago he made my book stack disappear every time I tried to stand on them to lecture. Each and every time I try to retaliate he manages to avoid my traps. I've had the grandest time watching him run from you and Severus since the Christmas Holidays. I've never seen him run from anyone other than Minerva when she's in a snit." "Must be that Celtic blood she has. He runs from Mrs. Weasley every chance he gets." Harry responded with a smirk and Filius burst into laughter. Severus looked out through the door and hissed at the other two to quiet down as he observed the door opening. Filius moved so he too could see through the door. Albus and Minerva sauntered through the door laughing and Minerva transfigured the two stiff wooden chairs in front of her desk into to comfortable armchairs for her and Albus while the old coot transfigured a quill into a coffee table to set between the chairs. They chatted about things Severus had no interest in. Albus called for a house-elf to bring tea and whatever sweet caught his fancy this week and went on blissfully talking with Minerva. He didn't notice that the elf was Dobby and he didn't notice the evil grin the creature had on his face when he returned. Severus did from his vantage place and he smirked when the creature held an empty vial out to show Minerva, making sure the Headmaster didn't see it, and winked as he was dismissed. Severus made sure that the potion they used was a quick acting one, but what he didn't expect was for the Headmaster to detect that his tea was tampered with. Albus staggered to his feet and looked accusingly to Minerva, who jumped to her feet with her wand drawn and ready to stun the old wizard. Albus managed to sidestep the hex and was ready to fire back when Severus charged into they fray, firing off several hexes in rapid succession. Filius followed him and amazingly enough Albus was fighting off the hexes and charms they all used to try and subdue him. Right then Severus knew that Albus earned his reputation as a powerful wizard. He knew that the three of them were no slouches when it came to dueling and Albus was holding them off and absorbing those spells that got past his defenses. He was almost to the office door when Harry joined the battle. Severus cursed as he felt Albus' disarming charm hit him and watched helplessly as his wand flew from his grasp and sent him flying. Minerva and Filius met the same fate, but Harry managed to dodge the one sent at him. He watched in stunned amazement as Harry fired off two disarming and one stunning charm. Albus dodged the two disarming charms, but could avoid the stunner and went down like a ton of bricks. Minerva and Filius joined in him shocked silence as Albus crumpled to the ground. The two looked at Harry, but couldn't say a word. The Dark Lord had better rethink his strategy when it came to Harry, because Severus knew right then and there that Harry was more than a match for the bastard. The proof was the unconscious form of Albus, who managed to negate all the spells that hit him from the three teachers. Fawkes appeared in a burst of flames and Severus snapped out of his stupor. He strode over to Albus and reclaimed his wand before tossing the other two to their owners. He levitated the old man into the sitting room while Minerva grabbed the globe off of her office mantle. Filius and Harry trailed behind Severus, the latter returning to the chair he sat on earlier. Filius set to charming the globe so Albus couldn't use his wand to escape or avoid Harry's relatives. Minerva took the old man's wand for safe measure, but none of them knew whether Albus had a spare secreted in those bulky robes he favored. Harry flooed to the Headmaster's quarters to pack some of the old man's clothing and Severus was glad it wasn't his task to do. The Headmaster's wardrobe was lethal to the senses. Severus set himself to making sure that the globe would be able to support the addition of the Headmaster inside it and before long they were all ready to banish Albus to the globe. Harry arrived with a shrunken trunk with Albus' clothing and a smirk on his face. "I made sure I chose the blandest robes in the back of his wardrobe." Harry stated in a cheerful voice when everyone looked at him questioningly. Everyone else laughed at Harry's remark, each knowing how much the Headmaster enjoyed his obnoxiously coloured clothing. Minerva went back into her office and when Severus glanced through the open door, he noticed her penning a note on a small roll of parchment. When she returned to the sitting room she slipped the rolled up parchment into Albus' hand. Filius tried to remove the stunning charm Harry hit Albus with, but failed each time he tried. "Harry, my lad, you'll need to end the stunning charm on the Headmaster. Your spell is too strong for me to remove." Filius told Harry, who was looking skeptical. "Are you sure that's wise? I mean, he didn't react to the sleeping potion Professor Snape made." Harry responded, a puzzled frown on hi face. "He'll be under the potion, Potter. Once you stunned him it allowed the potion to work through his system. He won't wake up." Severus snapped, keeping to their public animosity, but he made sure to shoot an apologetic look at Harry when he was sure Filius wasn't looking. Harry had an expression that looked like annoyance, but Severus could see him fighting down the hurt his harsh words cause. It was too soon after Albus' prank for Harry, considering what the younger man didn't say during their activity earlier. "Finite Incantum." Harry whispered and then he retreated to the chair he sat on earlier. Albus remained quiet and limp and Fawkes flew over to the supine form. The scarlet bird landed next to Albus' head and chattered angrily at him. Severus could see from the looks on their faces that Minerva and Harry were hearing the bird's rant, but Filius looked amused and Severus couldn't tell if the diminutive man was able to hear the bird's thoughts. "Winter, I told you not to interfere, but you insisted on meddling." Fawkes angry voice echoed through Severus' head. "You just couldn't leave them be now could you? This could have been a tragic affair and as it is you've hurt more people than you helped." Severus was disturbed by an image that Fawkes projected in his anger. Minerva didn't look disturbed though Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He didn't like that image one bit, or the aftermath he pictured if it had occurred. "I cannot wait to see how living with those animals you made Grimwolf stay with. I love you dearly, Winter, but you need to learn a lesson. Hopefully Sharpclaw, Shade and Cheerful can undo your handiwork. I hope you learn quickly to stay out of other people's lives." With that last word Fawkes dug his claws into Albus' current robe and pumped his wings. He slowly rose off the floor, bringing Albus with him. Once Albus' toes cleared the floor Fawkes disappeared in a flash of flame. Inside the globe another smaller burst of flame appeared near the small looking grass hut on the island in the center. Severus could see the tiny form of Albus being laid on the sand, not very far from the water's edge, by Fawkes. Another ball of fire inside the globe heralded the bird's return and when he reappeared Harry fished out the Headmaster's trunk. Harry murmured the spell needed to resize the luggage for Fawkes to take into the globe. After his return trip Fawkes settled down on Harry's shoulder and rubbed his head on the young man's cheek. Severus dearly wanted to go to Harry, but since Filius was still here he couldn't do so. Despite their long association at Hogwarts Severus never realized how observant the little man was. "Severus, why don't you go and make up with Harry? I know you want to head over there." Filius said with a small jerk of his head in Harry's direction. Severus started to give Minerva an accusing glare, but stopped when he saw the stunned look on her face. Filius chuckled and spoke once again. "I'm not completely blind and even you tend to forget about me when I'm around. I've noticed that emotions behind your little scenes weren't what they were before. Don't worry. I'll keep it to myself until your ready to let the rest of the world know." Filius' smile was bright as he shooed him towards Harry. Severus was at a loss for words, but he did give the tiny man a smile, which caused Filius' smile to brighten to rival the Headmaster's twinkle at its worst. He made his way to the chair Harry was perched in and slowly lifted the younger man's head up so he would look him in the eye. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I know I've never spoken to you like that in Minerva's rooms before." Severus said very quietly, making sure Harry was the only one who could hear him. "It's not your fault. I forgot Professor Flitwick was here. It's hard to remember that I've got something to hide from him, you know?" Harry said just as quietly. "It was a bad situation neither of us could avoid. We've always used these rooms as a sanctuary and it's never been invaded by outside forces until today. It wasn't something we've taken into account until now." Severus stopped Harry as the younger man opened his mouth to speak. "Hush, I'm sorry and it won't happen in here again." Severus promised as he scooped the younger man out of the chair so he could sit in the seat with Harry on his lap. They stayed like that while Minerva and Filius fussed with the globe before placing it on the mantel in her office once again. Severus just held Harry close and ignored the two older people staring at them from the door way. Harry's head was tucked under his chin and Severus just ran his hand lightly up and down the younger man's arms while Fawkes crooned from the back of the chair. His other hand was securely wrapped around Harry's waist. He whispered nonsense into Harry's ear until the younger man relaxed fully. Severus was truly glad that Albus was out of the way for the time being. They couldn't handle the additional stress the older man put on their relationship. Hopefully it would be deeper and securer before Albus was released from the globe. He lost track of time in the small world he created that consisted of him and Harry. He must have dozed off because his next memory was of Minerva shaking him while calling his name. "Severus, it's almost midnight. Your back must be killing you." Minerva said quietly while clutching her dressing gown closed. "I'm sorry, Minerva. I wasn't planning on dozing here. I'll put Harry to bed and leave you to your rest." "You should stay. Harry will most likely wake up and head down to the dungeons anyway. He's due for a You-Know-Who episode soon. It's better that you're here for him when it does happen." "Thank you, Minerva." Severus said as he managed to get to his feet without dropping Harry. Minerva hurried to open Harry's bedroom door for him. She whispered goodnight as she closed the door and left Severus to take care of Harry. With a flick of his wand he removed their clothes and settled down on the bed. He must have been more tired than he thought. He almost fell asleep before he could gather Harry back into his arms. He slept soundly and deeply until the alarm he didn't remember setting went off, jerking him awake. Harry woke slowly next to him and blinked sleepily before a huge smile bloomed across his face. "Morning, Severus." Harry said after stretching. "Thanks for staying." "You're welcome, love. We should make an appearance at breakfast. Go shower and I'll meet you back here. We'll head to the Great Hall with Minerva." "Okay." Harry said and then pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. As Harry bounded into the bathroom, Severus headed to Minerva's fireplace and lit it before, grabbing a pinch of floo powder. Once inside his quarters he once again spelled his clothes off and headed straight for his shower. As it was he barely remembered getting dressed before leaving Minerva's suite. While removing the stress and potion fumes from yesterday from his body he allowed his thoughts to wanders and they had focused on Harry, as was their want since Christmas. Since his neurons decide that they wanted to dwell on Harry he allowed them to do so. He needed a way to prove to Harry that he wasn't going to leave him. He wanted to show Harry he would never leave him willingly. In one of those frequent leaps of logic he was prone to, the image of a pair of bracelets he kept in a safe in his home swam into view in his mind. They belonged to his Great Uncle Maximus and his lover. When they passed on those bonding bracelets were given to him, especially when his preferences became known to the family. He'll return to his home to retrieve them for Harry later that day. Minerva would insist he bring someone along with him so he'd better ask her to contact Lupin and Shacklebolt. He didn't doubt that his house was being watched by the Dark Lord. Hopefully they'll get in and out before the fools doing the watching noticed. Severus quickly dressed in fresh clothing and flooed back to Minerva's rooms, where Harry sat reading as he waited for Severus and Minerva. Minerva entered her sitting room shortly after he arrived and with a smile to the both of them led the way to the Great Hall, which became deathly silent as they entered. Severus smirked inwardly as he glared at everyone who dared to make eye contact with him. The fact that he just entered the room with Harry stunned half the room. The other half was shocked because they weren't fighting like they've been doing whenever they were in a room together. Harry broke off with a quiet see you later and sat with his friends, who immediately began grilling him for information. The last thing he heard was Harry saying he had detention right after breakfast. Severus and Minerva sat in their usual seats and to Severus' surprise Minerva mentioned Fawkes' monologue last night. "Did you make any sense of those images that Fawkes projected while berating Albus?" Minerva asked; worry causing her accent to become more pronounced. "Yes I did. Fawkes must have been keeping tabs on Harry's mind while he denned the other day." Severus' scowl deepened has his mind replayed the images. "From what I can make out of it all, Fawkes believes that Harry would have tried to kill himself if things didn't turn out the way they did." "Was Harry that sure he lost you?" "He doesn't admit to that, but I believe he fears having someone come into his life and then leaving or being killed." "Sirius Black." Minerva said with an air of certainty. "Yes, though he compounded that by forgetting that Harry wasn't James. Thanks to those Muggles Albus forced him to live with his sense of self worth is next to nothing. He may not show that facet of his personality to the world, but it's there and he thinks that I'll grow tired of our relationship and leave him." "Oh, dear. I don't know what you could do to prove to him that you're not going anywhere." Severus gave the older woman an aggravating glance. "Don't glare at me Severus. I can read you better now. I know you have no intention of letting Harry go, but how are you going to convince him of that." "I've an idea, but I need to go to my home and get something. Can you contact Lupin and Shacklebolt? I know you're not going to let me sneak into my house alone and I'd rather have them with me that any of the other incompetents Albus has stocked the order with." Severus said with a smirk at the annoyed look on the elderly witch's face. "Severus, that's enough. I'll floo Remus and Kingsley after breakfast. When do you want to leave?" "After lunch. I'll get Harry to spend the afternoon with his friends." "That's a good idea. They've been trying to get a hold of Harry all weekend." "Then they'll keep him occupied while I'm gone." "Or make him hide." Minerva said while watching the students for a few moments. "That's always a possibility, but we'll have risk it." Severus turned his attention to his plate after making sure Draco was alright at the Slytherin table. "If it gets too much for him to take he'll run to your rooms or mine. He'll be fine." Severus ate quickly while making sure both his lover and godson were doing okay. He worried about Draco once his defection from his father's party line became known. Some of the students were warming up to having a life of their own in Slytherin, but not enough to protect Draco if those still loyal to the Dark Lord were given orders to capture or kill him. Draco and those few that joined him left together. At the same time Harry and his friends got up from Gryffindor's table. They met at the Great Hall's doors and Severus took that as his cue to leave. He went through the teacher's entrance and circled around until he was in the Entrance Hall in time to hear Draco suggest they all go to the library to study. He stepped up behind Harry as the younger wizard informed his godson that he had detention. The group standing around Harry paled when they noticed Severus' presence and as they did so Harry slowly turned around. "If I recall correctly, Mr. Potter, I told you to report to my office immediately after breakfast. I'm becoming increasingly annoyed at your inability to follow directions. My office, NOW!" Severus snarled before glaring at the rest of the group, who scattered quickly, but not before Draco could flash him a knowing look. Severus spun on his heel and followed Harry down the hall. He could tell by the small, barely noticeable shaking of his shoulders that the younger man was trying to suppress his laughter. He couldn't keep his own lips from slightly curling as he too suppressed his amusement. When they were safely in his quarters Harry's control eroded as he laughed hysterically. Severus unbent enough to chuckle before catching Harry's attention. "I have a new list of potions that Poppy requires for the hospital wing, if you'd like to help with them I'd be grateful." Severus said once he gained control of himself. "Of course I'll help." Harry replied immediately while wiping the tears his mirth sent cascading down his cheeks. He pushed off the wall he was leaning against and moved towards the lab. "Do you have plans for this afternoon?" "Actually I have a few errands to run so you'll have the afternoon to spend with your friends." "You're not going out alone are you?" "No, I have Kingsley and your pet werewolf coming with me." "Good. Be careful anyway." Severus snorted as he followed the younger man into his laboratory. They set about setting up for their morning work in quiet rapport. Before Severus knew it they were done with their work. He was disappointed that their alone time was over, but knew that what he planned on retrieving would guarantee much more time with his one true love. Severus and Harry headed up to the Great Hall; shocking everyone they passed by having a civil conversation. It was a calculated risk on his part, but he didn't mind letting the rest of the school population know that they weren't enemies anymore. Harry was oblivious to the rest of his fellow classmates gossiping in their wake. Severus knew the younger man wouldn't notice until someone pointed it out to him. They separated at Gryffindor table and as he walked up to the head table he noticed that Shacklebolt and Lupin were seated next to Minerva, who took up residence in the Headmaster's chair, leaving her usual seat open for Severus. "Jumping the gun a bit aren't you, Minerva?" Severus asked with a smirk. "No, Albus was called away and in his absence I'm once again Headmistress. I've chosen you to be my second." Minerva said with a smug smile on her face. She was enjoying the situation quite a bit. Severus sat quietly and surveyed the hall from his new vantage point. He could hear the mounting din as those who saw his and Harry's walk through the hallways began to share their news with their housemates. Harry ignored it all as the number of staring people increased. He thought everything was going well until he noticed Harry absently rub at his scar. He wasn't the only one who noticed Harry's actions. Lupin stared worriedly as did Granger. He leaned over to discuss what he noticed with Minerva, who decided that Harry and his friends were going to be spending the afternoon in her quarters so she could be nearby in case his pain turned into a full blown vision. Severus thought it would be unlikely since the younger man finally mastered Occlumency. Severus left with Lupin and Shacklebolt after he witnessed Harry being carried off by his friends and Head of House. He led the other two men to the Headmaster's off, which contained the only fireplace hooked up into the floo network. "We're going to Winter Kill Dell. The floo will take us to the dowager's manor." "I'll head out first, Severus. They may actually have someone stationed inside." Shacklebolt said as he grabbed the floo powder off the mantel. "I've received no alarms from my wards, Shacklebolt." Severus said annoyed at the man's presumption. "That doesn't mean that they didn't find a way in that didn't disturb your wards. If I go first I'll be able to close the floo without risking you. Albus will kill me if I let anything happen to you and I'd rather not do without your potions if I can help it." Shacklebolt replied with a grim smile. "The Ministry's 'Potions Master' can barely brew a decent boil removing potion." "Severus, let him go first. Albus will never find anyone the Slytherin students will trust more than you. Even when your defection from his ranks was made known, they still trusted you and now they know that they'll have someone who will protect them if they chose not to join Voldemort." Lupin jumped in trying to smooth over any possible fight before it began. Severus just grunted in reply and waved Shacklebolt on. After giving the Auror enough time to scan the immediate area and close the floo if enemies were at his home, Severus followed, allowing Lupin to bring up the rear. He was relieved to see that nothing was disturbed with in his home. Moments after his arrival his house-elf popped into the den and began to ask him the usual questions a house-elf asks its master. It took him several minutes to convince the over enthusiastic creature that he didn't need anything and wasn't planning on staying the night. Once the house-elf was dealt with his cautiously led the two men to the upstairs office. They avoided passing by any windows by crouching low to the floor to prevent any watchers from knowing they were there. They made it to the room he converted into an office, where he worked out his theories on paper before heading down to his lab to see if they worked. Behind a landscape on the wall opposite his desk was a safe where he kept the more expensive potion ingredients as well as some illegal ones. It also had the bracelets he came to recover as well as several back up wands. He opened it while being grateful that there was only one window to avoid in the room and hesitated over one of the wands within the safe. Most of them he made. It was a little known fact outside his family that he made wands, but due to his association with the Dark Lord he wasn't allowed to make them for a living. He did make them for those he was close to and he decided to pick up the very first wand he made. It was ebony and basilisk scale, blood and fang. He was lucky enough in his youth to come across a recently deceased one and harvested every part he could. He left most of the bottled ingredients with Minerva, knowing that his father would cheerfully take it all and sell it for another of those blasted parties he insisted on throwing to make himself look important. When returned to teach she had returned the ingredients to him and when he needed more cash he sold off small amounts of the harvested ingredients. The wand he made out of those basilisk parts went unclaimed for years. Everyone he tried to give it to was violently rejected by the wand. He wondered if it would accept Harry and he decided to bring it with him. Severus told the two that he was done and they repeated their slow crawl to the den. Unfortunately they're luck ran out. The shrill alarm that rang along his nerves told him that his wards had fallen. "Prepare for attack. My wards are down." Severus informed the others. "I'll take point." Shacklebolt said as he took the lead down the stairs with Lupin grimly following. They made it to the foyer before they engaged the Death Eaters. There were four of the masked terrorists and Severus knew two of them by the way they stood. McNair was leading this group and the other man he recognized was his former student Marcus Flint. Flint was an idiot, but dangerous if luck was in his favour. McNair will do everything in his power to kill Severus and he was determined to take the other man down first. Shacklebolt took out one of the two Severus couldn't identify while Lupin engaged Flint. Severus pulled his back up wand and fired a killing curse at McNair, who successfully dodged it. Luck was on Severus' side when the curse bounced off the mirror behind McNair and hit the bastard in the back, but unfortunately for Severus the now dead Death Eater managed to fire off a blasting hex that clip him as he dove to the side, allowing Flint to hit him with a cutting curse. He was in the process of regaining his footing when Flint's curse severed his hamstring and sent him sprawling. Shacklebolt had eliminated the fourth man and Lupin was ridding himself of a curse, leaving Severus on his own until they noticed his plight. He managed to roll away from or block several cursed that Flint sent his way, but Severus knew he couldn't avoid them forever. Flint sent another killing curse his way and he found himself unable to move out of the curse's path. He watched helplessly as the green beam sailed towards him. He was completely at a loss for words when the air before him blurred as a shielding charm was cast over him. He was grateful for it when the mirror from across the room came flying at him. The curse bounced off the mirror and hit the ceiling, raining plaster and wood all over the place. The mirror landed on him, but a moment later Lupin was tossing it off to the side and hauling Severus to his feet. Severus' hamstrung leg buckled beneath him and Lupin maneuvered him until the damaged side was supported by the werewolf. "Remus! You get him out of here. I'll meet you when I'm done with this last one." Shacklebolt shouted as he dodged a spell Flint fired at him. "Gotcha! Be careful!" Lupin shouted back as he dragged Severus towards the den. He might have said something else, but the pain from his injury started to make itself known and skewed Severus' senses. The trip through the floo was a nightmare for Severus. Pain made him nauseous and the spinning through the system increased the sensation. When they stumbled out of the Headmaster's fireplace the half panicked form of Ron Weasley made it worse. "Professor Snape. Professor McGonagall sent me here to get you. Harry's been screaming for an hour. Nothing we can do can wake him up! Please Hurry!" Weasley spat out before running back towards Minerva's rooms. "Help me downstairs, Lupin. Harry's having a vision." Severus panted as he tried to control the damaged leg. "Don't try to put your weight on it. You don't have a leg as of now. Once we get down there I'm calling Poppy. We don't have time to wait before it's healed. If she doesn't get to it soon you'll lose it." Lupin told him as he scooped Severus into his arms. Severus tried to protest, but Lupin cut him off. "I'll set you on your feet when we reach Minerva's. There's no reason for you to risk hurting yourself more." Lupin grunted when he settled Severus firmly in his arms. "When did you put on so much weight?" "When I started bedding your honorary godson." Severus told the werewolf with a smirk. "Don't start, Severus, and I don't want any details." He chuckled at the werewolf's reaction as the light-haired man carried him down the stairs to the Entrance Hall. Lucky for him, Minerva's rooms were only two doors down the hallway from the Hall. Once inside her office Lupin set him down so he could hobble into the room full of students with some of his dignity intact. The door flew open before he could knock and he realized that he never took the spell off of it yesterday. He was lucky that it was Draco who noticed their arrival, though the blonde threw a very worried look his way when he noticed his leg. Lupin helped him to Harry's side and Severus collapsed to the floor next to Harry with his leg pinned awkwardly beneath him. Harry was screaming under a silencing charm and once Severus was within the spell's affects he began to talk to Harry. He hoped that Harry could hear him as he went through the mediation routine, just like he did when Albus trapped them in the snow globe. He was relieved when Harry started to respond and soon afterwards his screams stopped. Severus dispelled the silencing charm and turned to the students hovering anxiously around them. "How long was he like this?" Severus snapped at the group. "About an hour, Professor." Granger responded in a shaky voice. "Draco fed him several potions and they didn't help. Harry would scream and then stop only to start screaming again. He tried to mediate and clear his mind, but it wasn't enough. Voldemort must be very angry." She concluded. "What potions, Draco?" Severus demanded of his godson. "Your post Cruciatus potion, a mind strengthening potion and a stamina potion. Mother found those potions work best when he's having these visions, sir." Draco responded while warily watching Weasley, who was turning red. "He should have woken up by now, shouldn't he?" The youngest Weasley asked, looking like she was ready to burst into tears. "Yes, he should have, unless he's doing something foolish." "I can't treat him while he's unconscious like that, but you'll lie down on that sofa so I can fix that leg before you damage it more than it already is." Poppy snapped within moments of her arrival. "Remus, get him on the sofa, now." Poppy made short work of his trousers and rob and tutted when she saw the damage. The rest of the room gasped at the bloody mess his thigh was as he kept his eyes firmly on Harry. He hissed in pain as Poppy poured an antiseptic potion over the gouge before prodding it with her wand. He shifted in discomfort as the wound closed and he promptly tuned out her rant as he noticed Harry beginning to stir. Harry's eyes snapped open and he looked frantically around the room as he was being helped into a sitting position by Draco and the youngest Weasley. When Harry's eyes settled upon him the younger man threw himself at him with a sob, forgetting about the others in the room, which didn't bother Severus in the least. "Harry, what happened?" Severus asked while carefully moving himself into a less bothersome position. "I tried to Occlude, but he was too angry. Two Death Eaters showed up and said that McNair and who ever he had with them failed to capture you at your home. They said they fled when the Aurors appeared. Voldemort was less than pleased with them. Some one else brought in a prisoner who was supposed to have information on the goblin's wards at Gringotts, but they didn't have it or wouldn't give it up. Either way they ended up dead." Harry's eyes shifted downwards, which told Severus he was leaving something out. "After you helped me block him out he began to speak of attack plans so I hung around to listen." "You shouldn't have done that." Severus said in stern voice. "I know, but it was important." "Not as important as you are." Lupin jumped in, fear colouring his voice. "Spring Equinox. He's going to attack Hogwarts at Spring Equinox." Harry blurted, silencing the room. "Damn, that means we'll have to let Albus out sooner than we planned." Minerva said with a worried frown. "We'll have to change the sixth and seventh curriculum to focus on defense and offense. We're going to need their help defending the younger students." "Yes." Severus answered as he kept his eyes firmly on Harry's. Something was upsetting him and he was determined to find out what before it damaged his lover. "Harry, what didn't you tell us?" Harry tried to avoid the question, but Severus wouldn't let him side step the issue. "I recognized the prisoner, though something was off." Harry reluctantly answered. "Tell me what you saw." "I think Bill Weasley is dead, but I'm not sure." Harry winced at the sounds of dismay from the two redheads in the room. "The problem is that he wasn't standing like Bill does and it seemed like he was trying to speak like Bill, but failed. The worst part was after he was killed. Voldemort said 'Weasley, take your waste of a brother to Hogwarts as a message to the old fool'. The Death Eater that responded looked odd to me." Loud sounds of denial erupted from the young male Weasley, but before the young man could vent they were interrupted by Minerva's door flying open and the entrance of Filius, Shacklebolt and the eldest Weasley son, sans earring. The two Weasley students flew at their brother and Severus noticed that the elder Weasley was wearing robes much to short for him. They also looked surprisingly familiar. The long hair young man looked over the enveloped heads of his siblings to look at Harry. Severus watched as the younger wizard stared in surprise at his and Harry's interaction then turned to concern as he noticed Harry's posture. Bill mouthed 'did he see' to Severus and Lupin, which received a nod of affirmation. "Who did Harry see die, Bill?" Minerva asked, dreading the news. "Percy. Merlin, Percy was a Death Eater, but balked when it came to killing a member of his family. He forced me to take a Polyjuice and had us switch clothing. When he couldn't answer You-Know-Who's questions he was killed." Bill took a deep breathe. "Mum's going to be devastated when she hears. I brought him to the Hospital Wing where I met Kingsley." Bill turned his attention to his brother and sister and tried to calm them as best he could. "I took care of your last uninvited guest and called in some of the more reliable Aurors to help me cart them away. I put up some wards that will only allow you and me back into your home. I didn't want to chance anyone coming back and destroying it so I also put up every repelling spell I know on it from the outside." Shacklebolt said half apologetically. "It had to be done and I appreciate the effort, Shacklebolt." Shacklebolt nodded and turned to leave. "Kingsley, would you fire call Arthur and Molly and tell them to come here." Minerva asked the bald man before he left. "I'll do so before I leave. I believe Arthur should be home by now. Goodnight everyone." The eldest Weasley managed to calm his siblings and get them to sit down. Severus waited for the question Granger had poised on her lips and true to form she blurted it out the first chance she got. "How is it that Mrs. Malfoy was giving Harry potions?" She demanded with a belligerent stance. "I don't believe he'd go willing with a Malfoy." "You believe wrong, Hermione." Harry answered in a dull voice. "You know what you think my relatives are like. Take that and multiply it by ten and you've be a lot closer to reality. My uncle tried to kill me because he was late picking me up from the Leaky Cauldron and I had given up on waiting for him. When I was pulling my wand out to summon the Knight Bus he showed up and started to beat me in an alley." Harry was unable to continue and curled up in a ball next to Severus on the couch and buried his head in Severus' robes. Severus tried his best to calm his lover down as Draco took up the narrative. Severus attempted to keep an eye on Weasley as Draco continued Harry's story. "Mother and I were walking by on our way to Diagon Alley and saw what was happened. Mother hexed the fat oaf and went to check on the victim. Much to our surprise it was Harry." Draco smirked when the other two thirds of the Golden Trio's mouths gaped open in shock. They acted like they've never heard Draco refer to Harry by his given name before. "They obviously were unable to comprehend the change in the two former rival's relationship. "Mother insisted that he spend the summer with us in France and had one of our house-elves collect Harry's owl and belongings." "How did you hide him from your father?" Granger asked suspiciously. "Father doesn't come with us on Holiday. He only parades us out when there's an event to be seen at. When it was time to come home for school Mother spelled Harry to look like a distant relative. Father didn't look at him twice." Severus snorted as Draco finished. They were lucky they didn't catch Lucius' attention when they smuggled him out of the Manor. The rest of the room looked at him in surprise. "What? Can I not find amusement in my godson's antics?" "What's so funny about how I spent my summer vacation?" Draco asked in response. "You're damned lucky that you didn't attract your father's notice with your Gryffindorish antics." "Well next time we'll leave you in my father's dungeons to be tortured to death." Draco replied in a huff. The conversation was almost like the one they had in the Hospital Wing after his mother was rescued. "What did you use to get him to Hogwarts? The portkey my father got you?" Weasley asked angrily and was immediately chastised by his older brother. "Yes, he did!" Draco snapped in irritation. Severus felt Harry stiffen as the tension got thicker in the room. "He did what he believed was right." "He used his only means of escape and left himself in the hands of a Death Eater and he thinks it was right?" Weasley shouted, ignoring his brother's attempts to shut him up. "And I'll be damned if I'll let you anywhere near my sister, Malfoy." "My mother has never been a Death Eater!" Draco stood and drew his wand when Weasley pulled his own. "Draco!" Harry snapped in warning, pulling away from Severus' side to do so. Severus watched as Draco put his wand away and moved to sit beside him. When Severus looked to the other member of the altercation he was surprised to see Weasley on the floor, rubbing his shin with his sister growling angrily in his face. A very amused elder brother looked on while twirling his younger brother's wand in his fingers. Severus made the decision to refer to the youngest Weasley by her given name, lest he meet her brother's fate. They all were so absorbed in the drama unfolding between the Wesley siblings that they didn't hear the door open and shut. "What is going on here?" A shrill voice yelled, causing everyone to jump. "Ronald is trying to run my life." Ginny snarled, answering her mother's question from her point of view. "Ginny wants to date Malfoy. He's practically a Death Eater." Weasley snarled making his sister squeal in anger. "And that traitor over there," he snarled and pointed a finger at Harry, "used the portkey that dad worked so hard to get to rescue Snape from the Malfoys." Harry reburied his head in Severus' robes while Severus tried to console the younger man because of his friend's idiocy. Severus ignored the rest of the room's occupants until Molly regained her voice. "Ronald Bilius Weasley! How dare you?" Molly shrieked, looking every inch the Firecat Fawkes claimed her to be. "Ron, I am well aware of the fact that Harry used that portkey to rescue Professor Snape. I have no problems with the fact that he did so. Severus is a valued member of the Order and you'd best remember that." Arthur scolded his youngest son. "While I am not happy that Harry had taken such a risk leaving England with Draco and his mother, he did still have the port key in his possession then. The matter is closed, Ron." "Still doesn't answer why he went with them and saved him." Weasley spat while jerking his chin at Severus. "Perhaps it was because he didn't want to risk you and your family if the Dark Lord realized he wasn't at his Aunt and Uncle's." Severus replied with a sneer. "If he was attack it may have been better if he wasn't with people he was close to." "Besides, Mr. Weasley, in case you have forgotten, Harry experiences what You-Know-Who does when his emotions are high. You-Know-Who doesn't like traitors to his cause and he would have been very angry at Professor Snape's betrayal. You know how Harry reacts whenever he's forced to watch someone die. Do you really want him to see someone he knows die?" Minerva jumped in angrily. "I doubt that he would have cared that much. They hate each other." Ron said spitefully and didn't notice Harry shaking. Severus didn't know whether it was anger or emotional pain that caused Harry's reaction and he didn't get a chance to ask the young man, who clung even tighter to him. Granger started in and was soon cut off by the house-elf that arrived with tea. Instead of leaving after delivering the tray, he took a close look at Harry and then the rest of the room's occupants. Severus noticed it was Harry's friend, Dobby, who homed in on the source of Harry's distress and began to lecture the red head. "Dobby knows when Master Harry is in danger or upset. You is making Harry upset. Dobby not let Harry be in danger. Dobby know when nasty muggle hurt Master Harry only Mistress Narcissa bead Dobby to the spot." Dobby shouted, actually shouted, at Harry's friend, waggling his finger at Weasley. "Too bad she not killing nasty fat man." Dobby muttered to himself, but Severus heard every word. "Weezy better grow up or Dobby put you back in lake." Dobby shook his head in a gesture that stated the matter was closed and popped out of the room. Weasley look to his mother for support and to Severus' amusement found no help in that quarter. Molly gave him a stern look and Severus realized that Harry was right. She did look like a saber tooth tiger when she was angry. "Ginny is old enough to make her own decisions and is more than capable of taking care of herself. She's handily put you and your brothers in your places on several occasions." She told her youngest son. She gave a quick glance at Draco before continuing. "If Ginny wishes to give Mr. Snape a chance then that's her business." Molly gave the blonde a sad smile while the rest of the outsider's gasped. Draco stiffened in shock and Severus pulled the younger man to his unoccupied right side and held on tightly to both teens. Harry snaked a hand out to comfort the blond as then last hope for Draco's father reconciling with wife and son died. Severus wasn't expecting Lucius to suddenly see the light, but there was a very, very small chance that the pure-blooded doctrine of family first would override the quest for power. Severus looked up to question Molly about her information and couldn't immediately find her. He glanced around the room and found her perching on the arm of the sofa on Draco's other side and running her fingers through his hair. "Molly," he still didn't feel comfortable calling her that, but she insisted with a stick that he do so. "How did you find out?" Severus was concerned that the rest of the school knew already, which would hurt his godson even more. "From the Black family tapestry. This morning it changed while I was dusting. Narcissa's last name reverted to Black while Draco's changed to yours. It wasn't mention in this mornings Prophet, but who knows if it even will be. It would be a mark against Malfoy that he couldn't control his wife and only heir. He may just keep it quiet as a result." "That's true." Severus responded before retreating into his thoughts only to be jerked out of them when Molly grabbed his chin to force him to look at her. "I'll say this once and only once, Severus. If you hurt my Harry I'll use your hide to reupholster the furniture at headquarters." The rest of the room gasped, especially Severus' forgotten snaklings sitting quietly in the corner watching everything unfold. Severus couldn't help wondering if any of those who sided with Draco were the Dark Lord's spies. He didn't want the bastard finding out about his relationship with Harry. He knew the Dark Lord would use him as a weapon against Harry and the younger man wouldn't survive his death. He could feel Fawkes agreeing with him and wondered how far the bird's range was. The bird kept to himself in Albus' office, making it look like the old man was merely out for a few moments. Severus leaned over and whispered into Draco's ear while making sure Harry couldn't hear him. "Draco, you'll have to keep an eye on your friends. Any one of them could be a spy for the Dark Lord." "I've already thought of that. I got them all to swear fealty oaths to the school. They can't harm anyone who dwells in the school, even during the summer holidays." Draco responded. "Good thinking." "It was Harry's idea. He can be as much of a mother hen as Madam Pomfrey." Severus gave Harry a squeeze and when he did so the box containing the bracelets dug into his side, reminding him of what he wanted to do. "I still have work to do and I'm sure Molly and Arthur are wondering why they were called here." "Yes, we were wondering." Arthur chimed in while Molly looked up from her conversation with Ginny and Granger. "Severus, why don't you take Harry downstairs? I know you've got all the potions Poppy wants to dose Harry with there." Minerva said, mirroring his concerns over Harry seeing Molly's reaction to the betrayal and death of her middle son. "I do believe I will. Draco, you and your friends should return to your common rooms." Severus said and received a nod of acknowledgement. He didn't wait to see them leave before coaxing Harry to his feet. He opted to take the upset young man through the hallways in stead of the floo. He didn't want to risk the Dark Lord invading Harry's mind as they flooed to his rooms. Also Harry would have the time to regain his composure and shake off what ever emotions he was feeling because of Weasley's big mouth. Severus didn't understand how the red head could talk without thinking and he probably never will. Harry began to perk up as they moved away from Minerva's office and rooms and slowly became his normal self. By the time they reached Severus' office Harry was asking what they were going to do. Severus entered his office and noticed a parchment on his desk. It was instruction from Poppy stating that he was to stay off his leg, which meant he couldn't brew any of the experimental potions he planned on working on tonight. He handed the note to Harry so he could see what potions he was going to be tortured with and opened the hidden door that led to his rooms. Harry followed slowly behind him and sat down on the couch while he waited for Severus to bring his potions. Severus smirked as Harry grimaced after swallowing each on down. He sat down beside the younger man and put his arm around the other's shoulders. They relaxed next to each other without a sound as they stared into the fire. Severus didn't want to disturb the rare moment of peace, but he had other things on his agenda tonight. "How are you feeling, Harry?" Severus asked while eying the young man carefully. "I'm alright. I should have learned by now that Ron won't budge from what he believes until Hermione beats him with a book." Harry sighed before looking up at him. "What happened to you?" "I had to retrieve something from my home and Lupin, Shacklebolt and I were ambushed by Death Eater's watching the house as you already know. I was hit by a cutting curse and Lupin dragged me back to the school while Shacklebolt was finishing up the last combatant and calling for back up." "Did you get what ever it was you were looking for?" "Yes and before you ask it was very important since it concerned you." "Oh?" Harry looked at him almost begging for the answer. Severus pulled the wooden box out of his pocket and opened it to reveal the contents. Harry ghosted a finger over the gold and silver metal and gave him a questioning look. Severus removed the plain bracelets from the box. He gave them a quick glance as he tried to remember what they looked like when he first received them. He didn't recall them being so plain when his Uncles still wore them. He held one out to Harry and began to explain. "These bracelets belonged to my Great Uncle Maximus and his lover. It was their way of showing the world that they loved each other. This will be proof to you that I will never willingly leave you. If you wish to wear this token it will never come off until the day you die. They will serve as a promise to wed since our society has changed much since my Great Uncle's day. Will you marry me, Harry?" Severus held his breath, but retained eye contact with the young man beside him. He watched as several emotions flashed in Harry's eyes as the young man thought about his response. Most people would be annoyed or disappointed that their intended took so long to think about their answer, but Severus was thrilled that Harry was thinking before he leapt. He was also sure of the young man's answer. Severus had noticed several of the students eyeing Harry like he was a piece of meat, but Harry never noticed them or if he did he never bothered to acknowledge them. Severus was sure that Harry would give his heart lightly to anyone and Albus' stunt proved that they belonged to each other. Severus came out of his musings to see Harry smile. "Yes." Severus smiled a too rare smile and slipped one of the bracelets onto Harry's left wrist. He motioned Harry to do the same with the second one. When the second bracelet was on Severus' wrist both began to writhe and roil, molding themselves into a gold and red enameled phoenix entwined with a green and silver one. Severus then realized that the bracelets formed a design that suited those they bound together. Harry smiled at the design and captured Severus' mouth in a heated kiss. Severus marveled at how much the younger man learned in such a short time. He allowed Harry to lean him back until the hard edge of the forgotten wand dug into him. "Harry, wait." Severus gasped as he broke the kiss. He shifted over enough to snake his hand into his other pocket to remove the thin box within. "Something very few people know is that my hobby is to make wands. I've been doing it since I was young and I've had this one sitting unclaimed in my safe for years. See if it takes to you." Harry gingerly took the wand out of the box and Severus was thrilled when it didn't reject the young man immediately. Harry pointed the wand towards the fireplace after making sure there wasn't anything of value on it and gave the wand a wave. Silver, gold and red sparks flowed from the tip. "Thank you, Severus. I've a wand that I can fight the pain in the ass with." Harry said with a smile and a reclaimed Severus' lips once again. "I can think of a better place to take this." Severus whispered against Harry's lips. Harry's response was to scramble off the couch and pull Severus to his feet. Harry eagerly dragged Severus into his bedroom and once inside he started to undo the hooks on Severus' robes. Severus chuckled when Harry growled in frustration as the tiny hooks refused to give way. Harry's frustrated scowl turned into a triumphant grin as he murmured a spell that undid all of the hooks and allowed the younger man to slip the robes off his shoulders. The green-eyed man busied himself with the Muggle style shirt underneath, which obeyed the youth's whims and allowed him to unbutton it. The white shirt joined his robes on the floor as Harry eagerly began working on his trousers. Severus toed his shoes and socks off just in time to have his trousers and pants drift down his legs. Severus was pushed onto the bed where he landed with a bounce. Without any preamble Harry dove to his knees and swallowed as much of Severus' length as he could. Severus gasped as the warm, damp heat surrounded his prick. What Harry lacked in technique he made up for in enthusiasm and it wasn't long before the little monster had Severus on the edge. Severus wasn't ready in the least for his part of the evening to end. With a shaking hand he pulled Harry off his prick, ignoring the whine he received as he did so. "I don't want to cum until you're inside me." Severus told Harry, whose whine cut off immediately. Harry's eyes grew comically wide and a touch of disbelief entered them. Severus guessed that the younger man didn't believe what he heard so Severus decided to clarify things in his way. "You read Poppy's not. I'm not to strain my leg." Severus pitched his voice to a low rumble as Harry's eyes widened even more. "You're a bit overdressed you know." Severus kept the laughter that wanted to bubble forth under firm wraps when realization dawned on Harry's face. The younger man must have broken all speed records as he sent his clothes flying all over the bedroom before pouncing and pinning Severus to his mattress. Harry plundered his mouth while settling on Severus' abdomen. It seemed to Severus that Harry was determined to suck every molecule of oxygen out of his lungs. His lover was doing a good job at it too. Harry's tongue darted frantically around Severus' mouth and Severus was hard put to determine its next destination as it explored his mouth thoroughly. Blackness started to encroach on his consciousness and Severus knew it was more than time to break the kiss. He pushed the enthusiastic man away so he could gulp down enough air to shove the darkness away. Harry decided to go exploring and he worked his way down Severus' neck. If the brat kept this up neither of them would last long. When Harry began to nibble on one of his nipples he had to force his hand between them to viciously twist his balls before he came right then and there. Harry stopped what he was doing to look at Severus with a puzzled expression. "Merlin, you're going to kill me, brat." Severus gasped out before reaching over to his nightstand to pick up the vial of lubricant that now held a prominent place on its surface. He handed the vial to Harry, who took it carefully. "Now do everything I do to you before you succeed in killing me." Harry obeyed, but took his sweet time in doing so, which made Severus growl in frustration. "You are trying to kill me. Get on with it!" Severus snarled and the younger man busily working between his legs. "You said to do it just like you do to me and I am." Harry said with an innocent look. "I didn't mean literally! It isn't my first time, pest. Now stop torturing me." Severus glared at the now smirking youth. Severus watched as Harry slowly coated his erection with the oil before pushing himself home at a snail's pace. Once Harry was fully seated Severus allowed him to get accustomed to the sensation of being inside another before demanding the brat move. Harry held Severus' legs upwards as he watched mesmerized as his cock disappeared inside Severus' channel. Severus smiled and bit back the chuckle that wanted to escape as he watched Harry. Knowing how he was the first time he topped he knew that it would be a while before Harry remembered that there was another person involved. So Severus leaned back and closed his eyes as Harry amused himself. He allowed himself to enjoy the sensation of having another in him without the fear of pain his former encounters entailed. He lazy stroked his cock as Harry continued to slowly move in and out. The novelty of Harry's new position wore off soon than Severus expected as he felt Harry release his legs and begin to move in earnest. Harry's pace picked up and the younger man shifted until he found Severus' prostate. Severus moaned each time the younger man's cock brushed against his sensitive gland and Severus was quickly reaching his peak as Harry moved faster with each thrust. Unfortunately Harry's inexperience reared its head and the younger man faltered and lost his rhythm, pulling Severus away from the edge. Try as he might Severus was unable to reach that peak for each time Harry managed to establish a steady pace he'd lose it again. Harry was just as frustrated, though he kept trying. Severus guessed that younger man was striving for his own release when he'd lost the rhythm. Severus began to work his hand over his cock at a furious pace as he hunted for his release. Harry growled and shifted as he searched for that elusive bliss. Severus' eyes remained firmly closed until something warm and wet swished over the head of his cock. His eyes snapped open in surprise and he focused just in time to see Harry's mouth suck in the head of his cock. Harry ignored the hand that was bumping him in the chin as he sucked on the sensitive head of Severus' cock. The sight of Harry still pounding into him while bent over and sucking his cock sent him over the edge that was eluding him. He came, yelling Harry's name and the tightening of his muscles around the younger man's shaft had Harry joining him in bliss. Severus didn't think he'd see anything as erotic as Harry sucking him off while fucking him and he was soon proved wrong. Harry was still buried in his ass and was currently licking the cum he spilt off his chest. The groan that escaped Severus' throat shook his whole body and he rolled over, dumping Harry off of him. "You are trying to kill me." Severus murmured into Harry's ear. "No I'm not. It's just payback for all those mean things you've said to me over the years." Harry replied cheekily. The light in his eyes showed that he was only joking. "Insolent brat." Severus mock growled and pulled Harry along side him. "It's bed time." Severus summoned his wand from his pile of clothes and quickly cast a cleansing charm over the both of them. "Hey, I wasn't done with that." Harry protested sleepily as the Severus' spell removed the remains of his seed from his chest. "Hush." Severus murmured before giving Harry a slow kiss. He pulled the covers up and as he settled beside his lover he found that Harry had already fallen asleep. With a chuckle Severus settled down and followed. Morning arrived and Severus slowly woke to find Harry sprawled across his chest, which Severus found was a pleasant way to wake. Harry slowly opened his eyes after Severus spent several minutes shaking him. Severus noticed a look of stability and confidence in the younger man's eyes. The latter he realized he hadn't seen in the younger man's eyes since Black died in his fifth year. He was pleased that his pledge had such an effect on Harry. The two men quickly dressed and headed to the Great Hall for breakfast after a brief morning kiss. As they made their way through the halls Severus discovered that the bracelets refused to be hidden. Given his dim recollection of his Great Uncle Maximus, he could understand why. Uncle Maximus was a possessive man and he made sure than anything that he considered was appropriately marked as thus. Severus didn't care about hiding the bracelet he wore, but he wanted to inform the staff first before the students found out, especially Minerva and Filius. Harry didn't seem to care whether the bracelets were in plain view. As they walked they also talked about the wedding. Picking a date was the easiest part, but trying to find a way to pave the differences between Molly and Narcissa, both women would want a hand in planning the wedding and both were very stubborn. Severus chuckled when Harry blanched at the thought of the immense battle that would occur between the two women and hastily decided to avoid the topic all together. The Great Hall was noisy as usually and no one paid any attention to them as they entered. Severus deposited Harry at his house table before taking his newly assigned seat. Minerva wasn't there yet so he quietly helped himself to breakfast and scanned the Hall for trouble. He glanced at the Gryffindor table and saw Weasley open his mouth to say something to Harry. He had a good view of the idiot's face when he spotted the bracelet Harry was wearing. Severus was thoroughly entertained as Weasley tried to force his jaw to work. By the look on his face, Severus could tell that the red-head knew exactly what it meant. It was one of the advantages of a pure-blooded upbringing. Granger couldn't figure out what had stopped her boyfriend's rant, but Ginny leapt out of her seat with a shriek and hugged Harry hard and brought the attention of the rest of their house to the small group of friends. The half and pure-blooded members filled in the rest once they figured out what had Ginny acting so happy. The noise grew to a roar as the students at Gryffindor shared the news with their friends at the other tables. It was to this deafening roar that Minerva entered the Great Hall. The look of shock on her face made Severus want to laugh. He was having a hard time as it was since Weasley still couldn't make a word come out of his mouth. Severus watched as she pressed her lips together and strode through the mass to the main knot of students surrounding Harry. He couldn't hear what she was saying over the noise of the students, though she did look rather angry and she shoved students out of her way, but he did hear a very un-Minerva like shriek of delight when she finally reached Harry's side and saw what the fuss was about. She nearly strangled Harry as she gave a congratulatory hug and what Severus guessed was a few words of wisdom given the bright red blush on the younger man's face. Minerva turned beady and predatory eyes in Severus' direction and he braced himself for whatever she had in mind. He hadn't seen such a bounce in her step in many years so he was determined to allow her to have her way. Not that he could stop her when she was determined to do something. She made a beeline straight for him and instead of sitting like everyone that bothered to watch her movements expected her to do. She instead flung her arms around Severus' neck and gave him a sound kiss on the cheek, which caused those watching her gasp out loud. That caused the entire Hall to stop their mad babbling and look towards the Head Table. Severus chuckled at the older woman's response and that silenced the students completely. "So Severus, when's the wedding?" Minerva asked loud enough to be heard from anywhere in the dead silent Hall. "May first, Minerva. Shall we let the old goat out in time for it?" Severus responded with a smirk. Not one student except for those in Minerva's rooms yesterday understood what was going on. "We'll see. Now tell me how are you going to deal with Molly and Narcissa? You know they both are going to want to plan this." "We haven't come up with a suitable plan yet." Severus responded, but hard on the heels of his statement Harry added his two knuts. "Yes we have. We're going to let them deal with it on their own." Harry said in a decisive tone and still the rest of the students had no clue what was going on. "That might not be the best solution, Harry." Minerva told his lover quietly. "Professor, if you want to step between a saber tooth tiger in a snit and an enraged polar bear, please be my guest, but Severus and I are staying well out of the line of fire." As Harry finished his statement another round of gasps went through the Hall followed by the sound of several dozen students fainting after Severus smiled at the Gryffindor. Minerva tutted at the unconscious students as she sat down in the Headmaster's seat. Severus eyed them in disgust. "I wonder how they managed to pass their classes if it's taken them this long to process all the hints they were given?" Severus asked rhetorically with a sneer as he rose from his seat to leave for his first class. He was just exiting the Great Hall from on of the staff entrances to the sound of laughter from his colleagues, though some of them were just as stunned as their students, when he heard the Great Hall doors open. He didn't stop to see who it was, but as he pulled the door closed he heard his godson's, no son's voice echoing through the room. "Oh hell, I missed something good, didn't I? Hope you have a pensieve Harry, because I want to see what happened." Draco said with an obvious pout on his face. Severus could tell just by the tone of his voice. Shortly following Draco's little scene was the sound of thuds of several other students passing out. Severus smiled to himself as the thought of how many house points he was going to remove today. He was bound to have many opportunities. They were either going to be late to his class or gawking at him instead of doing their class work. Severus couldn't wait for the opportunity. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Twenty-four Hour TortureEpilogueBy Corgi Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, found himself being disturbed by an annoying object poking at his shoulder. His foggy mind couldn't identify the source, but he did try to bat the offending object away. It came back immediately along with a shrieking voice that forced him into full consciousness. "Up! Get up, you lazy freak! NOW!" The voice shouted as the poking continued. Albus turned to the owner of the voice to find a skinny, long-necked, horse-faced blonde woman holding a stick. It took Albus a few seconds to place a name with that face. "Why hello, Petunia. How have you been?" Albus asked while searching through his pockets. Petunia didn't answer, mostly because a bullish man with a bushy mustache and a bright red face charged forward and started yelling. "You will bring us home immediately! We've been here for months! I'll have lost my job because of you freaks!" "I had no hand in this." Albus said calmly, still looking for something in his robes. "Two of your pet freaks forced their way into our home and got this freakish bird to bring us here." Vernon Dursley spat, looking ready to throttle the elderly main in the sand. "Describe the two people, please." Albus asked, already knowing the bird to be Fawkes. He had his suspicions about the two people who went after the Dursley's and he wanted confirmation. "One was a withered old biddy in some god awful tartan with a stick up her bum." Petunia Dursley answered since her husband was choking on his rage. "The other was a nasty, greasy man with a big nose. He said such horrible things to us and threatened my Duddikins." Albus' eyes widened in surprise when Petunia described the second intruder. He expected Minerva to team up with Remus in order to deal with the Dursley's, but Severus? That was indeed a shock and moment's later all the puzzle pieces fell into place in his head. It seemed to him that all the animosity that Severus and Harry displayed after Christmas was nothing more than a smoke screen. What bothered Albus was he couldn't fathom what kind of relationship the two forged. Was Severus stepping in for James or was it something deeper? Albus itched to find out. He hated being kept in the dark. "Are you going to return us home or sit there day dreaming?" Petunia's shrill voice interrupted his speculations. "Where are we? Do you know?" Albus asked to buy some time. "We're on a deserted island you balmy old fool!" Vernon shouted after finally finding his voice again. Albus leapt to his feet with an agility of a twenty year old and faced the fat elder Dursley. He whipped out his wand and advanced on the fat fool. "There is no call for name calling, Mr. Dursley. When I find out where we are I can search for a solution. Do not tempt me to use this on you!" Albus said in a calm voice that belied the coldness in his eyes while waving his wand under Dursley's nose. "I'm not particularly happy with the way you've treated Harry while he was in your care and obviously it was a lot worse than I thought it to be for Severus and Minerva to act." Albus stalked away from the group of Dursleys and saw his trunk a few feet away from where he woke up. He headed over there and thought quietly for a moment before trying a spell to pin point their location. He murmured the incantation and waved his wand in the appropriate manner, but nothing happened. To say the least, he was confused and he turned his attention to his trunk. He tried to levitate it, but was unable to do so. 'That explains why Filius was there when Minerva and Severus tried to shanghai me.' He tried a spell to dissipate whatever charm Filius used only to find that it didn't work either. With a sigh he tapped his half-moon glasses and was relieved to find that the spells on it were still there. 'Obviously they tried to make it difficult for me to escape, which is working quite well indeed.' He tapped the glasses again to use the far-sight feature. It would allow him to see miles away. Little did anyone know that one of the other features allowed him to see through the door of his office. It was the secret everyone wanted to know. When he focused on the horizon he found something very surprising. Instead of another island or possibly a continent he saw Minerva's office. Then it hit him. They stuck him and the Dursley's in the desert island globe on Minerva's office mantle. They obviously thought it was a form of poetic justice. He couldn't help agreeing. As he watched he saw that Minerva, who was sitting at her desk doing paper work, was being visited by a significant number of the staff. After Albus identified the people crowding into her office he amended that to the entire staff minus Severus. They all filtered into Minerva's private quarters and soon several Order members arrived. He saw Arthur and Molly, Bill and Charlie all of which were looking extremely upset and Albus wondered why. He hoped that Minerva would send him some news. He couldn't afford to be kept out of the loop while Voldemort was rampaging around the countryside. He pulled his attention back to the events in Minerva's office in time to see Kingsley, Tonks, Remus and Narcissa Malfoy arrive. They too entered Minerva's quarters as did their hostess, who gave a wicked smirk at the globe before she left her office. Albus was dying of curiosity. He wanted to know why they were all in Minerva's rooms. He hated not knowing things. One of the things he wanted to know was where his lemon drops were. He resumed patting down his pockets in search of his candy when his attention was caught by the door to Minerva's office opening again. Harry's messy head popped into the office quickly followed by the rest of him. Albus didn't pay him much attention since the young Gryffindor was living in Minerva's quarters since the Christmas Holidays because of his Voldemort induced visions. When a darker shadow followed Harry into the office his attention snapped back to the scene before him. It took a few moments for him to find Severus' features, which cleared the moment he stepped into the light. He watched as the two talked while and he longed to be able to hear what they were saying. He couldn't read lips if his life depended on it and longed for the ability to do so now. His curiosity was satisfied a few moments later as he saw Severus swoop down and capture Harry's mouth in a possessive kiss. If anyone was able to see him they would have noticed his eyes incandescing with joy. This was the out come he had hoped for when he exiled them in the globe. He knew that Severus might have balked at a relationship with a student, which is why he considered a parental Severus earlier. He chuckled as he noticed they were still attached at the lips, but the laughter died as shock took its place. Harry's hand was now resting on Severus' shoulder and on the wrist attached to it was a promise bracelet. Now he really wanted to know what was going on. The two outside the globe seemed to know he was watching, or at least Harry did. The hand with the bracelet left his line of sight only to return with a very familiar bag in its clutches. His lemon drops! The little brat took them. Now this was punishment bordering on the inhumane! How was he supposed to survive without his daily candy fix? How was he supposed to deal with the Dursley's without the sugar buzz or the added calming draught? He looked up angrily at the two men far out of his reach and found the two of them looking at him. Harry waggled his fingers as a greeting while Severus just smirked nastily at him. Before he could rant to no one they left and he was distracted by the arrival of Fawkes. "Hello, Winter. I hope you are settling in nicely." Fawkes greeted him with a smug tone. "Fawkes, would you bring me out?" Albus said aloud, forgetting that the Dursley's were about. "You're not leaving without us!" Vernon Dursley roared, though Albus and Fawkes ignored him. "I can bring you out, but I will only do so in an emergency. You'll have to learn your lesson and understand what Grimwolf has been through all these years because of your choices." Fawkes replied calmly. "I guess I can't bribe you then." Fawkes shook his head in a definite negative. "Oh well, I'll have to make the best of my forced vacation. Will you ask Minerva to keep me informed of Order business, please?" "I will. Right now Sharpclaw and Shade have the defence strategies down, but if anything happens sooner than they expect I'll return for you." "Any word on Voldemort's plans?" "Pestilence plans on attacking the school during Spring Equinox. Sharpclaw and Shade have been making plans for the attack and have changed the curriculum for the older students. Do not fear you will be out by then to finalize the plans." "Harry had another vision then?" "Yes and it was a bad one that I couldn't help with. Grimwolf had the misfortune to witness the death of Pompous." "Who is Pompous?" Albus was confused. There were times he wished the phoenix would use people's proper names. "Pompous was Firecat's third kitten." "Firecat is Molly?" Fawkes nodded and Albus sat down hard in the sand. "Are they alright? What happened?" "Pompous had joined Pestilence's army. His eldest litter mate was captured and instead of allowing his sibling to be tortured and killed, he forced the other to drink the Polyjuice potion. Pompous died in his sibling's stead." Albus couldn't stop the tears that trailed down his face to disappear in his beard. He had hoped that Percy wouldn't yield to the temptation that Voldemort offered, but was glad that the younger man's family loyalty won out. He hoped Molly and the rest of the Weasley's would recover from their loss and gain comfort from that knowledge. With a sigh Albus looked at his long time friend. "Well, since I can't leave until Minnie lets me out, perhaps you'll share when Severus and Harry plan to commit to each other." Albus said in a low voice. He didn't want to hear the Dursley's going on about freaks if they heard that Harry was engaged to marry another man. He was sure they had all those Muggle prejudices against those who didn't conform to what society considered normal. "May Day and if you behave yourself they'll let you out to attend their bonding." "I hope they'll deem me sufficiently punished by then. Now let's see which trunk they sent me." Albus walked up the beach to his trunk and opened the old container. He frowned at the clothes he found inside and determined that Severus either packed his trunk or ordered someone to pack only the plainest of his clothing in it. He carefully removed the clothing and with a chortle of delight opened the secret compartment at the bottom. Inside the storage space was a large selection of fishing lures and poles. He picked two out, along with several lures and spell preserved bait in a jar. He replaced the compartment top and his clothes into the trunk and made his way to where the Dursleys were waiting. "I'm sorry to say we're stuck here until Minerva and Severus have determined we've suffered enough. So we might as well enjoy ourselves." Vernon went red once again and stormed into the grass hut followed by his grumbling wife. Dudley stood outside eying Albus as if he was afraid he was going to be bitten. Albus chuckled at the look and turned his full attention on the overweight boy. "Dudley, my boy, have you ever been fishing?" Albus asked with a twinkle. "Nnnnooo." Dudley answered nervously. "Well it's never too late to learn and you'll never know when you'll need the skill. So come along." Albus walked down to the shoreline whistling merrily as he did so. If he can't meddle in the lives of his staff and students, well, he'll have to make do with the Dursley's. *FIN**
10048235	We Toss Around the Blame	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Bridget Westfall, Joan Ferguson", "Fandom": "Wentworth (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by oceansinmychest", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-02T00:00:00", "words": "1,755", "Additional Tags": "Explicit 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 }	“Governor, a moment of your time, if you will.”Scaramouche's torturous dance begins in the hallway, between two women with clashing opinions on what it means to run a correctional facility. The question of ethics is a matter that forensic psychologist, Bridget Westfall, immediately launches into. She's aware of how corruption twists even the most hopeful and turns them into the most jaded within the criminal justice system. She's no lamb, no girl with green behind the ears.Governor Joan Ferguson is but another whom thinks she can rule with an iron fist. She is a woman who needs control. Though Bridget hasn't known the governor for long, she already classifies her. Puts her into on the fine line between sociopathy and psychopathy where the definition remains uncertain.It reminds Bridget of her university days. How she toured a prison she chose to forget the name of. Fresh out of graduate school, she'd given the wrong prognosis and it proved costly for the inmate. Even now, she chooses to forget.“I suppose I can grant you a moment though I would prefer we carry this to my office.” Of course you would. Bridget muses to herself with a small smile in place. The Governor's office serves as a home away from home, a sanctuary in this hellhole of a prison. Within those four walls, Joan has the most control. She signs the papers; she monitors the CCTV. In a way, she decides who lives and who dies. It's a bit like playing God. Already, Joan's walking at a brisk pace. She swipes her hand over the front of her immaculate, ironed blazer. She steams it every morning, bright and early. There's neither a hair out of place nor a wrinkle to mar her armor.Long, slender legs for days (serve them on a platter, on a chopping block, they're better off there; Joan believes with a fiery conviction) follow after Joan. Bridget makes no struggle to catch up with the governor. The rustle and hiss of Bridget's pleated skirt accompany the click of their purposeful heels. She's free to express who she is, free in her flowing dresses and shirts and skirts. Joan remembers how as a youth, the skirts looked too awkward on her, made her seem taller somehow. The boys and girls laughed. They always did.But that was the old Joan. The old Joan who kept her hair short and wore skirts. The old Joan who cradled Jianna in her time of need. The old Joan who made promises with watery eyes. That Joan had been weak.Mindful of her manners, Joan holds the door open for the petite blonde with that intentional sway of her hips. The much more reserved Joan raises her head; yet, manages to look down her nose at Bridget. Truth be told, Ferguson finds Westfall's presence to be a financial waste. Of course, she holds her tongue. Words are weapons when you choose to use them wisely.Joan inhales.Bridget reeks of a sense of purpose, self-righteousness, and Chanel No. 5.“Do have a seat,” Ferguson drawls, her smokey voice affecting her anunciation.“No, thank you. I'll stand.”The blonde folds her arms across her chest. Joan's gaze follows such an action with a sudden turn of her head. Turquoise. She's wearing a thin turquoise blouse that brings out the sky in her eyes and highlights the hollow of her throat, deliciously exposed. Dark, glittering eyes trace the curve and twist of the blonde's calf. She wonders how the muscle would bend and twitch underneath her cruel touch. Joan swallows.“Very well, Doctor. Have it your way. Do carry on with the conversation.”Dismissively, the governor waves a hand. You can be a real cunt, Bridget thinks and manages to refrain from saying it aloud.Dr. Westfall looks at her as though she's trying to unlock her. To solve this Rubix cube. To answer the Sphinx Riddle that is Joan Ferguson. Joan likes it not.Somehow, she feels a stranger in her own office. In her own suit. The doctor does this to her. She's always loathed the psychobabble. Brings her back to the bereavement counselor that the school had practically thrown her way upon the passing of her mother. Ivan had withdrawn her from that school upon the discovery.“Should the media catch wind of how the inmates are treated at Wentworth, this place will be on the verge of collapse. The funds will stop coming in. Your people will lose their jobs. The inmates will lose their family dynamic and be displaced. One action affects the many.”Joan hums in response to Bridget's droning. She sounds as though she's prepared the speech for a lecture hall full of apathetic students that doodle in their marginalia. Bridget seems far too self-assured. So high and mighty. Joan would like to see her knocked down a peg or two. What made this little gadfly tick?“You do realize, Dr. Westfall, that I am mindful of the fact. A certain reputation is to be upheld. However, everything I do is for the greater good. I have a precise way in running this facility and I will not have your meddling ruin what I have built here.”Bridget sighs, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. Some strands fall free and tickle her cheekbones that have a hint of blush painted across them. Her brows work together.Joan Ferguson simultaneously breaks and fits many molds. For a moment, Dr. Westfall grows uncomfortably silent while studying the governor in a clinical fashion. It would do her some good to kneel. Shove some humility into her promiscuous work dress. It's a satisfying fantasy.“Are you aware of the cost here? Both financially and emotionally?”“Well, nothing in this world is free.”A thin, icy smile curls onto Joan's lips.Their dynamic resembles a proverbial fencing match where words become rapiers. I will savor the moment and be cordial during your downfall. Then, I will smile and shake your fragile, trembling hand. Bridget stares incredulously.Ivan berates her, ' Emotion leads to weakness. Envy marks the fall of many a soldier, Joan. ' He's loud and booming inside her head. ' But I am not envious-- yes, father, ' she thinks though she cannot bring herself to say it aloud.But she is envious. Envious of Bridget's perfect life. Envious of Bridget's picturesque beauty. Envious of how easy it is for Bridget to obey societal norms while deviating in sexuality. Bridget Westfall is not an anomaly. She is normal. That makes her deadly.“Jodi Spiteri exhibits signs of severe mistreatment. Clearly, the poor girl's traumatized. This cannot go on, Joan.”The blonde stresses Joan's name for emphasis. Tries to appeal to the older woman's humanity – wherever that may be. The eyes are the window to the soul though Bridget is unsure of what she's searching for this time.“It's Governor Ferguson to you, Dr. Westfall, or shall I refer to you as Bridget since we have become suddenly so intimate?”Ferguson sneers. Stiffens. Her name upon that dreadful woman's lips sounds like a crime. Bridget Westfall is not a friend. Far from it. The rage is as destructive as a forest fire. Smiling down at her with all of her venom, Joan remains on the offense. Though this is not a trial, it feels like one.“How presumptous of you. Tell me, have you always been this way? Spoonfed the selective truth? Yes, that must be so, given your... haughtiness. Women like you fall from their shallow high horse all too soon.”Then, comes the rebuttal.“What happened to Jodi Spiteri was a necessary evil. Her suffering ought to serve as a lesson to the other women.”Jodi's red eye full of tears and bloodshot vessels looms in the back of her mind, soon to be another apparition added to her haunted mind. Joan's fingers reach for a yellow pencil that's been knocked aside. Soon, four pencils line up. It calms her.“You're sick,” Bridget hisses.Sick, sick, sick. You're sick. The words reverberate within Joan's bones and resurrect near-ancient tales from girlhood.Joan clenches her jaw. She wrinkles her nose in disdain.An old Stones song plays on the radio. Abruptly, in disgust, Joan switches it off. She's seen enough of Westfall in her summer clothes. How did the music begin, anyhow? Losing grip, losing control, seems impossible; yet, the catalyst has begun.“You allow yourself to become too – too attached, Dr. Westfall. These women are in need of correction, not meaningless consolations.”Her hand forms a fist. Ivan tells her to get a hold of herself, to pull herself together. Dangerously, she stalks towards the psychologist who thinks she has it all figured out. She corners the smaller woman, backs her into the cabinet full of files and names. Her arms create a v-shape that locks Bridget into the center. Bridget cranes her neck, stares up at Joan.“Do you think you can intimidate me, Joan?”She sighs, as though her second language is disappointment. You will never understand. Joan imagines wrapping her hands around that pale throat and squeezing until those sea blue eyes roll back. She imagines kissing those wrists before securing them together with cable ties or handcuffs. She imagines the woman at her most vulnerable. At the thought, her lips upturn into a Cheshire grin.Instead, her fingers hover over the hollow of Bridget's throat. She can see how Bridget swallows, the veins in her neck protruding from the tension that fills her body. She intrudes by fixing the woman's collar. Bridget tries her damnedest not to flinch, but the slightest stiffening of her shoulders tells a great deal.“What a fascinating discussion we've had, Bridget. Do see yourself out.”Control regained, the governor relinquishes her grip. Steps away with her gloves raised in the air, as though she's been caught red-handed. She gestures towards the door for Bridget to make her departure.At a loss for words, Bridget shakes her head. The lines in her forehead increase in magnitude. Still, her hips sway. If I'm not careful, I could become Jonah in the belly of the whale. She ignores the thump of her heart and that dark, abysmal stare that Joan gave her. She's never seen something so black.Ferguson sits down in her rightful place, at her desk where her nameplate faces outwards and not a single item is positioned out of place.This is a conversation that went nowhere and would go nowhere again in the future.
10016942	A Glitched Duo	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Digimon - All Media Types", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by CaptainCassidy", "chapters": "3/3", "completed": "", "published": "2017-02-28T00:00:00", "words": "2,649", "Additional Tags": "Apoclymon, Apocalymon - Freeform", "Relationship": null, "Character": "Digimon OC", "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 wasteland was dark. It was always dark. Even during the time the sun was highest in the sky, its warm, reassuring light never reached here. Why would it want to? All that resided here were repulsive scourges of the Digital World. Not even Data or Vaccine types wandered their ways into the wasteland. His eyes opened. They were pale, like a white film rested over them. The skin surrounding him unfurled, creating a menacing cape that blew haphazardly behind him. His red claws brushed over his helmet, shielding his eyes from the little light there was. No one besides him was here. Metal clanged beneath him. A deep purple dodecahedron opened itself, extending metallic claws outwards around him. It lifted from the ground with little strain. He floated there for a moment, slowly looking around. No one besides him was here. So what had stirred him from his slumber? The dodecahedron moved forward, clicking and clanging eerily in the misty wasteland. Since he was awake, he might as well seek out an opponent. He needed their data. He needed every bit of data he could obtain. An opponent showed themselves quickly. A BlackGarurumon growled first, then yelped in terror. His metallic claws shot out at the other Digimon. He didn't stand a chance. He had been to frightened to move. This was how most of his opponents went. Rarely did they ever fight back. Why would they? Seeing him was the same as seeing your demise. …It should have been. Yes, his appearance did so much for him. His kind, his name, all giving him a rank that he was supposed to have. Supposed to, but didn't truly. His existence was a bluff. A cruel joke. Uploading the other Digimon's data hurt. He gritted his teeth to fight the pain. His very being wavered, his form clearly unstable. Pixels appeared. They changed color. He glitched, and couldn't help but groan. Pure willpower pulled himself back together. At least, that's what he told himself it was. Deep down, however, he knew there was a reason that he needed to keep from being deleted. He needed to grow stronger. He needed to exist. Even though he was only a shadow of his kind. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Is anyone there!?" a voice called in the distance, cutting through the thick silence of the fog encasing the wasteland. "Please! I just want to go home!" panic crept into the cry, choked sobs muffled by fabric sounding every now and again. "Someone! Please!" she screamed, but there was no one to hear her.Something growled nearby. She froze, terrified. Were those eyes in the mist, or was her mind playing tricks on her? The girl fell to her knees, covering her face with her hands. This couldn't be happening. It was all just one, big nightmare. She wasn't really here, she was back at home in bed, or asleep in class. She'd wake up soon. This couldn't be-The growling got closer. She couldn't doubt it anymore, there was something in the mist, and it was moving towards her. The girl dared to look up. Four red eyes gleamed down at her. Suddenly, her entire body was paralyzed. Thoughts of fleeing were the only ones she could make sense of, but her legs wouldn't move. No, she couldn't even blink. Couldn't even cry. Worst of all, however, was that she had to watch as red claws were raised into the air, positioned to come down and end her forever.A sound distracted the monster. It swiftly turned its head to see the noise, breaking the spell. The girl stood on shaky legs, making a move to run for her life. She didn't make it a step before red claws pinned her to the rocky earth beneath her. A choked yelp escaped her, but she couldn't manage a scream.Just as it was about to open its maw, the creature let out a snarl. The sound pierced through the air, more recognizable now that it was closer. Metal on metal clanged nearby. Something else- a chain being retracted… Or extended? Before she could decide, something flashed and, suddenly, the beast that had been trying to kill her was screaming, held in silver claws that fled back into the mist without a trace.Still, she couldn't scream. All the girl could do was stare into the fog, listening to the yells and snarls of two beings battling. They quieted down after a moment. Slowly, she stood, muffling sobs with her hands as she backed away very, very slowly. After just a moment, she'd turned completely around and had taken a few hard steps in the opposite direction.Something stopped her. A pained noise came from the mist behind her. It wasn't the sound of a monster. It was a voice. A real, live, human voice. And whoever the voice belonged to sounded hurt. Did she dare? Her body moved before her mind did. The girl walked deeper into the mist, towards the noise. It was as if she was drawn to it.She stopped only when she could fully make out the silhouette of someone. Whoever they were, they were standing on some big machine and… absorbing the monster? Something that looked almost like pixels were fusing into his body, which looked as if it was going to break down into them at any second. The person groaned again, and the machine wavered.It happened so quickly. The ground shook, knocking her off her feet. Dust was sprayed everywhere, dirtying her clothes and body. When it settled enough so that she could see, she gasped, coughing as a lung full of dust clogged her lungs.The machine had fallen. One of the claws was close enough for her to touch. It was silver, and the chain connecting it to the main dome was shaped like… DNA? She didn't dare touch it.Not far away, she could see the shape of someone on the ground. Again her body acted first; the girl ran to the person, realizing as she got closer that things were not as she first assumed. It wasn't until the other was in clear sight, less than three yards away, that she really understood what she had witnessed.Actually, no, that was the wrong word for it. She didn't understand anything she'd witnessed, not since she got here, anyways. But she did know that what was laying in front of her wasn't a person… and if it was at some point, it certainly wasn't anymore.He wasn't just on the machine. He was in it. No, he was it. This was another monster, just like the one that attacked her, only much, much bigger. She didn't know what to make of this, but couldn't bring herself to leave just yet.The girl dared another step forward. That was a mistake; she immediately lost her footing and fell, landing easily within reach of the monster's claws. Its head was only four, maybe five feet away. She remained perfectly still for a moment. Its eyes were closed, though she could clearly see that he was still breathing.Just as she was about to pick herself up off the ground, something in her pocket beeped. It was the tiny device that she'd suddenly obtained when she was thrust into this world. Pulling it to her, she looked at the screen. On it were the stats of something, and a very pixilated image of… the monster?Confused, she looked back at the thing she was now laying beside.Its eyes were open. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- That Devidramon had been attacking something. Was it another Digimon? First thing first, he needed to destroy it. It took more effort than it should have. Did he dare upload its data? He had to. He needed to become stronger. Could his glitched body handle it? No. The dodecahedron shook violently, his main body arching in pain. He didn't scream, but he couldn't stop a groan from escaping his jaws. It hurt. It was worse this time- much, much worse. His ability to remain levitating left him. He'd hit the ground before he realized he was falling. Pain mercilessly wracked his body. He blacked out, he was certain of it, although he didn't know if his main body had been on the ground before or after he did. The position he was in was dangerous. If another Digimon saw him now… A noise. No, don't let it be another opponent. He couldn't fight now. But that hadn't sounded like a hostile Digimon. In fact, it sounded like someone had fallen. There was a faint beeping sound. There was no avoiding it- he opened his eyes. Was that a Digimon? A girl laid there, clearly having tripped, staring at a small mechanical device in her hands. She looked confused. Her face was tear-streaked and red, and there were a few cuts and forming bruises on her. No, this wasn't a Digimon. It couldn't be. She looked at him. Her face went from puzzled to absolutely horrified. The two were silent for a moment. There was something about this creature… it was strange, like feeling something completely new but infinitely more familiar than anything he'd ever known. The thought humbled him. He twitched, gritting his teeth and screwing his eyes shut. It still hurt. The effort it took to turn his head away from her and up to the sky was pitiful. For a moment, he forgot the other was there, trying desperately not to scream. Something touched him. His eyes shot open, only to be shut again when a flash of light broke from somewhere above him. Was this it? Could this be deletion? No. He felt… warm. A strange feeling of safety washed over him, but the prospect of it frightened him to his very core. What was happening? Did he dare? Yes, he did. He didn't have a choice. Slowly, his eyes opened. He didn't see anything at first, just mist. Had he imagined what he'd seen only moments before? No, he still felt warm. Something touched him. His main body had never been touched before. Not gently, at least. As he became more aware of everything, he realized that there was a pressure on his chest, and… wetness? Something shook lightly. He understood. It was the girl he'd seen. She was leaning on him, trying not to sob. Despite her efforts, he could easily make out small, choked gasps. His body acted before he did, one clawed hand moving- painfully- to rest on her back. She stiffened beneath his touch. "…I'm scared," her words were faint, so quiet he almost didn't catch them. "{…So am I,}" his reply was even more hushed. The girl seemed to pause. He wondered if she'd heard him. She moved carefully after a moment, trying not to put to much pressure on him, he assumed. It wasn't until she was able to look him in the eye that she stopped. They were blue, but they looked clouded. Like a layer of white film rested over them. Her eyes were familiar. Tears still fell from them, dripping down onto his helmet. "{You don't need to be scared,}" he found himself saying, though he wasn't quite sure why. There was another beep- he assumed it was from the little device again. "Yes, I do," the girl choked. "I don't know where I am… I'm lost. There are monsters here," she was starting to sob again. He brought his other hand up to her face, wiping away the tears that fell. "{I got rid of the monster,}" he replied quietly, the pain from uploading the Devidramon's data finally starting to ebb away. As his mind cleared, he began to feel more and more foolish. He was a monster. He should end her now and be done with it. "Why are you scared?" her question surprised him. Had he said he was afraid? Yes, he had. Why? There was nothing he was afraid of… no, there wasn't supposed to be anything he was afraid of. Why was he scared? "{I'm sick,}" his eyes closed for a moment, unable to look back at the girl. "Can I make you better?" that was the last thing he'd expected to hear. Opening his eyes, he saw that she'd stopped sobbing. Her expression was more resolved now, less frightened. "What is this?" she held up the little device he'd glimpsed briefly before to show him. He knew what it was. He knew exactly what it was. Every now and again he'd come by an old code with an image of the device ingrained into it. Other Digimon spoke about it, both with fondness and abhorrence. A Digivice. His eyes widened. So he had been right, she wasn't a Digimon at all. She was a human. Someone must have brought her into the Digital World to seek out her partner Digimon… but why would they drop her here? Unless… "You know, I can tell," her voice was strained. "{Yes, I know what it is,}" there was a little sprite on the screen. It was a strange shape with a small figure on top of it. There were bars next to it, but only a few- they weren't full. The real kicker, though, was that every once in a while, the screen would glitch. "It's you, isn't it?" she asked, whispering as if she couldn't manage anything louder. "{Yes. It's me,}" his voice matched hers in volume. There was a long pause. The two watched each other intently, eyes locked and unmoving. He knew they were thinking the same things; so many questions, but not to be asked here. "{Will you trust me?}" his hands moved to her shoulders, one rubbing her arm in a reassuring manner. She didn't reply at first. Her eyes remained on his, but, slowly, she returned the Digivice to her pocket and gave a small, certain nod. That was all the permission he needed. Grabbing her and pulling her close, he began to re-activate himself. His dodecahedron came to life, clanking and straining as it moved. Using his metal claws he managed to push and pull himself upright, the girl in his arms clinging to his neck the entire time. Finally, after some struggle, he was upright and levitating a few feet off the ground. He held the girl, looking down at her curiously. She didn't look back up at him. That was fine, she was probably exhausted from everything that had happened anyways. He knew he was. His cape came to wrap around them as he began moving, heading for the closest thing to 'shelter' he could find. This area wasn't safe. At some point, he'd need to leave. But not now. Right now, he- they- needed to rest. It took a while. The wasteland was hard to navigate in. No real defining features- and even if there were, everything was shrouded in thick fog. Despite this, he didn't stop. He couldn't, it simply wasn't an option. When they did reach something, it was only a large rock that had a dent just barely big enough in it to be considered a cave. He hated caves, but this wasn't to bad. Rest was more important than his petty hatred anyways. He powered himself down, dodecahedron closing up completely and resting on the ground. His cape came apart a bit, just so he could look down at the girl. This time, her tired eyes looked back at him. "Hey," she said quietly up to him. "{Hello,}" he replied, watching her curiously. "What's your name?" the question surprised him, but it was justified, he supposed. "{It's Apocalymon. Who are you?" "Moia," her voice began to fade, "but… I'm called Mo." The girl's eyes closed. It wasn't a moment later that she was fast asleep in his arms. "{…Greetings, Mo,}" he mumbled down to her, "{I'm your Digimon.}"
10030559	Podfic Like a Ladder	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Patrick Stump, Pete Wentz", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by DuendeVerde4", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-01T00:00:00", "words": "12", "Additional Tags": "Podfic, Podfic Length: 10-20 Minutes, Meeting the Parents", "Relationship": "Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Airplane Author AU", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Bandom, Fall Out Boy", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Streaming Audio Downloads MP3 \| Size: 20,4 MB \| Duration: 00:18:53
10036505	All That Glitters	{ "Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Category": null, "Characters": "Jean Kirstein, Jean, Marco Bott, Erwin Smith, Erwin, Levi, Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Hange Zoë, Nile Dok", "Fandom": "Shingeki no Kyojin \| Attack on Titan", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by leggyfae, VictoriannWings", "chapters": "2/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-01T00:00:00", "words": "6,236", "Additional Tags": "faerie - Freeform, Fairy, vampire, AU, Fantasy AU, jeanmarco, eruri - Freeform, levihan - Freeform, jeanmarco au, Fluff, Smut, Freckles, Glitter, forest, mostly this is Jean being angsty in the forest Marco driving him crazy, it's great, ashthewitch, victoriannwings, violettewings, Wings, Moth - Freeform, Butterfly, mermaid, Pixie - Freeform, Seelie, Unseelie", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein, Marco Bott & Jean Kirstein, Mikasa Ackerman/Jean Kirstein, Mikasa Ackerman & Jean Kirstein, eruri, Levi/Erwin Smith, Hange Zoë/Levi, Hange Zoë & Levi, Levi & Erwin Smith, Nanaba/Mike Zacharias, Krista Lenz \| Historia Reiss/Ymir, Krista Lenz \| Historia Reiss & Ymir, Sasha Blouse/Connie Springer, Sasha Blouse & Connie Springer, LeviHan, Marie & Nile Dok", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "F/F, M/M, Multi", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Every year for All Hallow's Eve, King Erwin would host a huge gala. He'd invite dozens of people from across the globe; everyone awaited their invitations eagerly, hoping with bated breath that they would receive the glimmering scroll, allowing them to brag that they were, in fact, invited to the Royal Family's All Hallow's Eve Gala. Thousands of gold coins were spent on food and decorations and entertainment for that one night, more than for any other celebration in an entire year, for All Hallow's Eve was the only day during the year when vampires could walk in the sunlight. All spirits are seen in the daytime on this day, and the undead are no different. So King Erwin and his consort, King Levi, spared no expense in celebration.Jean honestly thought that the whole thing was ridiculous. Spending that much money on perishables that would have to be tossed out the next night because they'd gone bad? Spending months in advance scouring the globe for new talent – singers, actors, dancers, magicians – who would get that one shining moment of glory, only for it to be torn away once the celebration was over? Wasting over half of the planned budget on redecorating the entirety of the castle, only to switch it back the next week? It was a waste, an endless, pointless, ridiculous waste--useless, unnecessary. For only one day could they walk in the warm sun, see the sunrise and the light of day, gaze upon the beauty of day-blooming flowers. But Jean had grown up in the darkness of the vampire world until Erwin adopted him to raise as the heir to the throne, and he was turned at age twenty-one. He had spent much of his childhood before being chosen out in the sun with other children. And having only recently been turned, the sun was not a luxury to him; not in the way it was for Erwin or Levi, who had been turned later in life, but so, so long ago that neither of them remembered what it felt like to stand in the light. Jean couldn't begin to understand the frivolous expenditures, and having to sit through hours of tailoring his suit, and hours of bickering whether or not this shade of red was better than that shade; the silliness of it all brought him close to frustrated tears at times.But still, Jean couldn't deny the fact that, all things considered, he loved the All Hallow's Eve party. The celebration. The excited buzz in the air. The joy. The friendly camaraderie between those who'd been fighting since the dawn of time, setting aside their differences to enjoy one beautiful night, and day, together. Dancing for hours in masks made to hide your face but not your status. Helping himself to the wide arrangement of hors d'oeuvres in the next room over (all of whom had gladly volunteered). Yes, Jean loved it all. What he didn't love was--“Hey, why don't you talk to her?”-- Eren.“I mean, she won't bite.”There was that nagging, annoying, in-your-business voice that Eren only regaled Jean with.“And it never hurts to ask.”Jean wanted to smack him. He wanted to enjoy this night, the first Gala he’d assisted planning, without having to play nice with his most annoying brother, and the frustration made him want to grind his teeth together.“And you are a prince, so, even though you can't offer her much, you can always offer her money.” Even without looking at him, Jean could tell that Eren was giving him The Look. Side eyes, stupid lopsided grin, biting his tongue, wiggling his eyebrows. The I bet you could get some if you bucked up Look.Jean groaned. “Shut up, Eren.” He wanted to tear his hair out. He'd been pining over Mikasa for years, doodling poems on his journal pages about her dark hair and deep eyes, but he'd almost never spoken to her, and Eren had noticed."Seriously, dude, money gets all kinds of girls going. Probably even Mikasa," Eren continued. "All you gotta do is like, baby, I can give you everything you ever wanted or needed, and she’d go weak at the knees.” Eren bumped their shoulders together and raised an eyebrow before pretending to swoon. “Oh, Jean. You rich, horsefaced man, buy me the world and I’m yours.” Jean just glared. Better to deal with Eren’s teasing, then to start something and potentially get ridiculed for the rest of his immortal life. “Money is the only thing that can get you my love, Prince Jean.”Maybe that was true for most girls, who wanted to secure status and financial security, but Mikasa was already Eren's guard, a human who held one of the highest ranks and offices in the royal vampire community, and Jean highly doubted she'd be interested in forsaking that rank. He shook his head, watching her speak with his adoptive sister, Princess Annie, against the far wall. He could see Mikasa's dark braids framing her face through the revolving sea of dancing people in between them. "No, Eren," Jean murmured, almost wistful, "I think I'll let her be.""You're just a coward, you're avoiding her because you're afraid you'll be rejected." Eren smirked again, crossed his arms, and elbowed Jean out of his reverie. Jean's eyes flashed with anger and he stepped closer to Eren, placing a hand on his chest and giving it a slight shove."And you're an annoying, nosy bastard who needs to learn when to fuck off," he responded, but his timing was horrible. The music had died down as the musicians changed songs and Levi just so happened to be walking right behind him. It would have been fine had he not been so frustrated and spoken so loudly, catching the attention of all those around them. Levi swooped down on the two of them and had them by the collars within seconds. "Is that the kind of language we use at an event like this?" he hissed, nails digging into the skin at the base of his and Eren's necks.Jean searched for somewhere to look--anywhere but the flashing gray eyes in front of him and the fangs, bared and glinting. Eren, eyes wide and mouth agape, looked equally as terrified. "It wasn't that, it was just--""Quiet." Levi silenced them and dropped them back to their feet; Jean stumbled. The room went silent, staring at them all, as Eren sheepishly stared at the floor and Jean rubbed his neck self-consciously. Levi had been the one to turn him, a few years back, and Jean could still remember the slice of those fangs into his aching jugular. "You two are in more trouble than I care to explain right now. Report for cleaning in the trophy room, I'll inform you of the rest of your punishment after I've spoken with Erwin," he commanded, and disappeared with a whirl of his cape. The room continued to stare at them, until finally the chatter started up again building over the soft cello in the background, then, once again, the party drowned out their speech. "That was really smooth," Eren groaned, elbowing Jean. “You're one to talk,” he snapped back, then shook his head. He'd lost sight of Mikasa, and the shame at being publicly embarrassed left his skin prickling. "Let's go, then. The sooner we go, the sooner we get this over with."They had to wind through several inner passages to reach the trophy room, a tall, stately room with endless rows of shelves and cases, all categorized by the vampire, human, or werewolf whom had won it. Mostly, the room contained vampire-related awards, as most of the royal family and advisers surrounding them were vampires, but a few humans received a trophy of note, and often they were stored here. Because many of the trophies had been collecting dust for centuries or longer, the room smelled like must and mildew, and Jean began to cough when they entered. "I still think you're a coward," Eren stated. He picked up a particularly tarnished metal cup and wiped away a thick coating of dust. "And not just about Mikasa, you know. You don't ever stand up to anyone. Yeah, Levi's scary, but he's pretty cool once you actually sit down and talk to him. I know you have all of this angst because he turned you, but you just need to get over yourself. You chose this," he reminded him, rolling his eyes. Jean whirled on Eren. "I chose this," he echoed, voice spitting with rage, "I chose this, but it's not exactly what I expected. I don't think I understood what it means to never die." He swallowed; he hadn't meant to express that to Eren, but flashes of anger made him want to boil over and explode on the other vampire. "I have a duty to perform, here, and I am honored to have been given this opportunity. To become the next king and rule, to care and provide for our people. But," his eyes narrowed, "I didn't know I would wake up in the middle of the night remembering the sting of his fangs in my neck." Jean swallowed, and resisted the temptation to rub his neck again. Eren listened to his speech, then raised his eyebrows incredulously. "He scared you that much, huh?" He snickered, then changed his tone to a lilting tease. "You can't stand up to Levi, he hurt you one time and you're still scared. You can't ask out Mikasa. You can't face your feelings about anything. Or anyone. And now you're too much of a wimp to own up to me, either. You're just a whiny coward who will never be able to stand up for himself. Erwin couldn't have chosen a worse replacement."Jean's fists clenched and unclenched. "Fuck you, Eren. I'm not coward. And I'll prove it."Eren laughed, his eyes darkening. His tone changed, then, and a grin grew, spread across his face like a rash, sardonic and vicious. "Prove it? Prove it how? Are you going to own up to Levi? No," he shook his head, smirking darkly, "Actually, I know how you could really prove it. You would be able to show you're not a coward and that you're fit to rule. Because everybody knows a King has to be fearless."Jean crossed his arms, eyes narrowing. Truth be told, he'd spent every day since being turned wondering if he was really ready for this. If he was capable of facing every challenge a King needed to accomplish. Nightmare after nightmare haunted him, and he woke most nights cold and clammy in his coffin, unwilling to lift the lid and face the night. Sometimes, too, he huddled down in his coffin, trembling, equally afraid to sleep lest the nightmares returned. Eren merely voiced the things his thoughts told him every day, and Jean flashed his fangs in anger. "Fine. I'll do it." Jean, jaw set in hardened resolve, grabbed at Eren's collar and dragged him near. "Tell me what to do and I'll do it."Eren shoved Jean's hand off his shirt, stood up straight and laughed again. "You'll never be able to do it, but you should enter the Lost Forest," he sang, then lightly punched Jean's shoulder. "It's okay, if you're too much of a coward, I understand. It's not for the faint of heart."Jean whirled on Eren again, but grit his teeth and backed down. "I'll do it," he repeated. "Let's go. Now."Eren's eyes widened, just the barest amount; if Jean hadn't been so close to him he wouldn't have noticed. Clearly, the other prince didn't expect Jean to accept. "Yeah. Okay." He swallowed a little. They called it the Lost Forest because the faeries lived there, and the forest's true border was almost impossible to find. But when one did find it, one almost never returned, especially the human and vampire kind, for only fae could travel between the worlds. There were a thousand ever-changing rules and unspoken spells that could bind you to the forest. Jean had never heard tale of a vampire who entered and returned. A flicker of doubt crossed through his mind, but Eren followed him outside, and Jean couldn't back down now. Not now. He needed to prove himself--he needed to know that he could do this, not just for Eren, but also himself. And that's what fueled each step forward. Until they reached the edge of the forest, its tall trees towering over them. The world was strangely silent, no forest creatures or crickets or birds or anything to make a peep, the wind not even rustling a single leaf. Jean stood, staring forward. "Okay," he declared, chin high. "I'm going to enter."The fear had been bred into him, since he was little and growing up human in the vampire courts, raised to become prince and heir and never go near the forest. Horror story after horror story, stakes in hearts or just disappeared individuals never heard from again, echoed through his soul in this moment. Every fiber of his being shook. He burned with fear, his body screamed at him to turn back. Save himself. Never look back.But he'd already come so far.He took another step forward. Eren gasped and shook his head, stumbled backward. "Naw, man, I think I just saw a faerie in there! Dark wings and lightning magic!"Jean tossed a haughty laugh over his shoulder, hoping he appeared tough. "Who's the coward now? I'm going to enter.""I think we should go back," Eren said, eyes wide and serious. Jean looked at him, and held his hands behind his back in an effort to keep them still. "You go back, then. I'll come find you when I've returned."Eren hesitated, but looked like he'd never wanted anything more. "I think you should come back, Jean. I think you've proved yourself already."Jean flashed his fangs again, the anger coiling up inside him like a spring, ready to pour all over Eren. He needed this; he needed to know he could do this, become ruler of the vampire world, instead of spending every moment of his life in fear. He'd already come so far, and now he felt like he stood on the brink of a decision that would dictate what kind of ruler he was going to be. Turning back meant turning back on his future. Turning back meant walking with his fear for the rest of his life. Determined, he glared at Eren. "I'll see you back at the castle," he growled, and strode forward. The Forest smothered him in darkness, drew him in, and he couldn't help feeling like he'd passed the point of no return. Like he'd entered a new realm and a new world.Without a glance back, Jean continued on. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Muttering, Jean trudged through the edge of the trees, dark and forboding, a smattering of leaves along the brush trail. This was not how he had planned to spend his evening--in fact, he was supposed to be back at the palace with Eren. Eren. That prick. Jean kicked a stick in frustration. If that little twerp had kept his mouth shut, neither of them would have been in this mess. Huffing, Jean took a few more steps forward. The forest seemed to grow closer right as he slowed his pace, almost as if the forest moved up to meet him. Like a formidable enemy, awaiting him. He stopped, hesitated, questioning himself now that he was alone. Some of his fellow vampires had said if you enter the Lost Forest, you can never return. Jean's fingers trembled and he clasped his hands together. He'd heard a thousand rumours about vampires who sought it out or stumbled upon it and were never seen again. And now he stood in the face of it, unable and unwilling to turn back. He swallowed.Jean's chest rose and fell. His hands shook--he didn't know when that had started, but never in his life had they shook before. With a snort of indignation, he drew himself up to his full height. Jean Kirstein didn't chicken out, he told himself. That's what he'd told Eren. A coward--ha! What were a few trees to prove his bravery?He took another step forward.But then again...he'd be in huge trouble if word got out that he'd visited the Lost Forest. Jean wouldn't ever be allowed to roam the castle or grounds, or get to see anyone or anything. He'd be stuck in isolation for an eternity. And he couldn't bare the shame of that idea, either. Especially since they'd already been grounded when they snuck out.But if he went back, Eren would still think he was a coward.If Jean went back, he would think he was a coward. That thought haunted him more. His feet moved forward of their own accord, it seemed. His eyes took in the wide array of greens and golds and browns of the forest, shifting with the light, with the shadow. Soon he stood amongst the trees, a cool breeze tousling his hair, and he let out the breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. After a moment to get his bearings, he shook himself off and took another few steps deeper into the forest. This wasn't so bad, he thought. It wouldn't hurt to explore a little. The forest was actually pretty nice once he let himself relax.Jean stepped around a thick oak tree and found himself on the edge of a clearing. Thousands of tiny little flowers and dense grasses carpeted the meadow in front of him, and he swept his gaze around, taking it all in--A glint of gold caught his eye and he turned.A boy--no, a young man sat perched on a stump at the far end of the clearing, and his eyes practically shone. Dark chestnut hair fell loosely to his ears in a short cut, and his chin perched on top of folded knuckles. What could only be called an impish grin slowly spread across his lips, revealing glinting, rounded teeth. But what captivated Jean the most was the smattering of brown-gold freckles across the youth's cheeks, down his arms, all over his skin, but thickest on his plump, smiling cheeks. They sparkled and caught the light, drew every speck of the sun in towards the man, making him the center of everything in the clearing.The young man cocked his head to the side, still grinning, still shining, and spoke. His voice warmed Jean from the inside out, silky and smooth like milk. "Come closer, handsome."Jean tossed a glance over his shoulder, unsure to whom the boy was speaking. Surely it couldn't be him?But the boy beckoned, his knees swinging. "That's right, I'm talking to you. Come here. I have something to show you." Swallowing, Jean stepped forward. The grass curled around his boot, hugged it, as if pulling him forward. The breeze swept his bangs off his forehead and he could have sworn he saw silvery dust fall from the boy's hair to the ground, like stardust. Everything shone, the clearing sparkled, but the young man glowed more than all of it put together.Jean began to pad forward still further, and time seemed to slow, as if turning his head to look back would be like looking backward in time. He could feel his leg lifting to take another step, his booted foot hitting the ground, moving him forward, propelling him towards this stranger. He noticed too late the perfect circle of flowers that surrounded the boy where he sat.And then he was falling, the world rushing past him, air hissing, stinging his ears, falling until he couldn't fall anymore, and he hit the ground with a thud that shook his bones and knocked the wind from his lungs. He tried to inhale and failed, tried again, until his sore lungs sucked in a breath that seared him. Coughing, he realised he had sprawled across the very hard dirt in a very different clearing. There were no flowers in sight, only empty patches of packed earth and scattered clumps of grass and needles. Jean struggled against the ground to sit up, then quickly put his hand to his head; everything throbbed. A giggle cut him off. He glared at the young man, who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere and stood before him, giant, long horizontal wings coloured like a red-grey moth stretching out on either side of his shoulders. Sparkly dust fell off those, too, and Jean tried not to focus on the freckles shimmering across his body, peeking out from the loose tan knit tunic he wore. "Who do you think you are?" Jean demanded, jaw jutted out in a certain air of haughtiness that he hoped would intimidate the faerie.The giggling ensued. "I got you, I got you, it wasn't even as hard as I thought it would be!" His voice was almost singsong, cheering, and the faerie twirled, fistpumping the air in victory. The pure joy overtook him as he skipped in place, waving his arms wildly.Jean snorted and, dusting himself off, rose. "I'm not sure exactly what you're referring to, so you better explain to me what's going on," he continued, eyes narrowing, chin raised. The faerie stopping dancing and stared at him. "You're here. There's not much else to explain." He flitted closer to Jean, who reflexively took a step back. Another grin flashed across the faerie's face. "Scared of me, hmm?"Jean's hands curled into fists. "I'm not scared of you, but you have to admit the situation is a little off-putting. I was standing in a field one minute and now I'm in a dark clearing." The dirt was hard-packed beneath his feet and the trees grew very close together here, so that the floor was dark and swept with pine needles and leaves and brush. He crossed his arms. "I am an important person where I come from and I would like to return home," he added sternly. He knew from the cautionary tales he was told as a child to never reveal your name to a faerie lest they use it against you. "And I don't have a lot of time to waste, so if you could just point me in the direction I came from, that would be very appreciated."The faerie studied him intently, eyes narrowed and focused, then pointed directly up at the sky. Jean gritted his teeth. "Are you serious right now? I didn't come from the sky. I want to go back home. I don't have wings, I can't fly. Please direct me home." The faerie cocked his head to the side and shook off his wings. Piles of shimmering dust cascaded to the floor. "Once you enter the Lost Forest, there's only one way to leave." He winked. "I can take you there," he paused, yawning, as if thinking about it, but then shrugged and added, "But I don't want to."Jean wanted to claw his eyes out. Groaning, he stamped his foot. "Dickhead."The faerie's eyebrows shot up on his forehead. "That's not very nice. I'm definitely not taking you anywhere now," he professed, tilting his head to the side. That almost maniacal grin spread slowly across his face again.Jean wanted to slap it right off, to grab and shake this faerie, to scream. Instead, he forced a breath out of his pursed lips and put a hand to his chin, then straightened. "I need to go home," he repeated, "And if you're not going to help me, I'll just have to figure it out on my own."The faerie cackled. Stamping his feet on the ground, he almost bent in half with laughter, wings shaking furiously. "Good...luck..!" he wheezed between giggles, and finally wiped his brow as he straightened. "You won't find it. You don't even know where to go, and most of the fae in here would absolutely love to get hold of a vampire, especially an important person where you come from," he teased again. "But, if you don't need me, I guess I'll be off!" The faerie spread his wings and bent his knees, as if about to spring from the ground. Jean internally winced, but reached out, as if to grab him. "Wait!" The blow to his pride ached, but he had to get home. He hadn't expected to go that far into the forest, so maybe it wouldn't be too far to get out. "I mean. Just tell me where to go, and then you're off the hook." The faerie spun back around on one foot and let his wings fall, crossing his arms as he stared at Jean. “Me? All I did was invite you in. You're the idiot who one, entered the forest; and two, stepped into a faerie ring. You intrude on my home, insult me, and make demands that you have no right to make; and you have the nerve to tell me that I'll be 'off the hook?'” The faerie stepped close to him and placed an accusing finger to the center of his chest. “If I were any other faerie, you'd be dead right now.”There was a dark look within the faerie's eyes that chilled Jean to his bones. Then, as quickly as the look came, it vanished and the faerie grinned widely at him again.“But, you've managed to impress me with your complete and utter incompetence, so, I'll be your guide.”Jean didn't like the sound of that, but it wasn't like he had much of a choice. His only other option was to wander around in hopes that he'd eventually find his way out. He took a deep breath and nodded. “Fine, but you have to take me directly to the exit. No games.”The faerie laughed and flicked Jean's forehead, “You aren't the brightest candle in the room, are you?” he asked, turning and leisurely strolling away. “You're in my domain, so I can do whatever I want. And if I want to play games, then I'll play games.” Jean's hands clenched at his sides, and he had to take another deep breath to keep from loosing his temper. Stories had always informed him to cautiously play by fae rules, never eat food from the fae realm, and to never tell them your name. But they didn't inform him on how damn annoying faeries could be. “Whatever. Just take me home.”~“So, Mr. I'm Very Important, what's your name?”This was the third time that the faerie had asked him and Jean was tempted to tell him just to get him to stop asking. Instead he shook his head and answered once more. “No matter how many times you ask, the answer is still going to be the same.”“I'll tell you my name if you tell me yours.”Jean groaned and glared at the his back, purposely avoiding the faerie's eyes from where he looked over his shoulder with a sly grin. “No.”“You're such a sour puss,” the fae sighed and turned, walking backwards to look Jean up and down with pursed lips. “If you won't tell me your name, then I'll just have to give you one.” He was silent for a few moments, then snapped his fingers with an idea. “Got it! I'll just call you Twink. You look like one anyway, so it works out great!”Jean sputtered, “Excuse you! That is not my name!” His eyes flashed in indignation. The faerie gave him a look as if to say, 'I know that,' and Jean groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face. This was going to be such a long journey. “Whatever, Freckles.”“It's Marco.”“Huh?”“My name's Marco.”Jean wasn't sure why, but knowing the faerie's name made it harder to stay mad at him.As they walked, Jean noticed, that Marco's tunic had a bad habit of sliding off his shoulder. The constant bare skin glinted at him, as if taunting him, and trudging along behind the faerie, he found himself staring at that bare patch of skin and not much else. Anyway, if he let his eyes wander, he'd start looking at the sculpted back, fair, glimmering skin, the curve of his spine and butt. It was definitely safer to stay with his eyes rooted to that aggravatingly bare shoulder and not think about what any of the rest of Marco's body looked like naked.The faerie hopped lightly over a root and the tunic's fabric flopped slightly, sliding down Marco's arm a little further, but he didn't seem to notice. Eyes narrowed, Jean hissed and reached forward to fix the fabric. He lightly picked it up and straightened it so it hung off Marco's shoulders properly.The faerie whirled on him, stopping so short that Jean almost ran into him. "Umm... Excuse you." He stepped forward further, very much in Jean's space--he couldn't breathe without feeling like he was breathing right in Marco's face, and he feared if he did, he'd blow those glittering freckles right off his face.Jean sneered at him in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. "It kept falling down. Didn't your mother teach you to dress properly?""Ehhh..." Marco's eyes downcast, he stared at the floor, shrugged, and hugged himself.Satisfied he'd gotten through to him some, Jean smirked. "Wear some clothes that fucking fit you, Freckles." Then maybe Jean wouldn't get so distracted that he'd just start feeling up that soft fabric again. The effect was instant. Eyes flashing, Marco's hands shot to his sides in fists. "Don't call me that. And I'll do whatever the hell I want to." He whirled again and made as if to start walking.Jean followed fast on his heels. He'd changed Marco, put him in his place. It was about time, he thought. "Well, so will I," he declared, shoulders thrown back in arrogance. Marco gave him a side glance; the tunic had already slid down. "You can't. Against the rules."Jean raised an eyebrow. "How so?""I said so. And since I'm the Prince here, my word is rule. Also, watch your step." The faerie easily slipped off the ground, wings lightly beating the air with a whoosh. Jean stopped walking and watched the faerie. "Um, literally, why should I trust you?" Frustration had begun to drive him crazy. The constant circling, demanding, tricking--none of it was getting him anywhere, at all, and all he wanted was to go home. Well, if he was honest, that wasn't all he wanted, but he had a feeling this faerie had no intention of letting him see the rest of those freckles.Marco spun in the air to look back at him, arms still crossed. "Fine. Walk into another hole."Jean huffed, almost slipping on leaves. "Fine. Whatever." He stepped to the left. Marco turned to face toward the path again, touching down on the ground as if he had always been there, seamless and effortless. His wings melted into his back and Jean itched to touch the skin where they disappeared into a tattoo-like glamour. Then, the distant sounds of shouts and cries met Jean's ears and Marco groaned, stopping in his tracks causing Jean to almost run into his back. “What? What is it?”Marco didn't answer, just groaned again, dragging his hands down his freckled face.Jean peered over Marco's shoulder and in the distance saw a clearing, blinding with its vibrant colours and overwhelming with the smells wafting towards them. A large tree sat in the middle of the clearing, brilliant covered cloths in reds and yellows and pinks draped between it and the edges of the clearing. The vampire slipped past Marco and walked closer to the glade, entranced by its sheer radiance. The marketplace glowed, and the calls of the merchants drew Jean in. Never before had he been to a market as wonderous as this. As bright and enchanting and alluring. His breath caught in awe, struck by the brilliance. Without his bidding, Jean's feet brought him closer and closer to the market until he was lost in the crowd. Trapped behind hanging silks and glimmering wings, lost in the decadent smells and the overwhelming beaconing of strange-faced merchants. Beautiful people with all shades of skin and wings bustled from stall to stall, flitting, haggling, intent on their shopping. Piles of bread and cheese and baked goods covered a few tables, and Jean inhaled deeply. He knew he couldn't eat in the faerie world--and as a vampire, he'd lost most of his urges to eat any semblance of "regular" food--but the plump fruits and warm cakes had him longing to take a bite. Tearing his eyes away, Jean drifted forward. Everywhere he looked, dazzling wares, pots and jewellery and textiles, covered every surface. He stopped in front of a small booth, fingers dancing over the furs and silks and lace and linens.“Pretty scarf for a pretty boy?” the merchant asked, holding out a delicate chiffon scarf, embroidered with ever-changing images and gemstones that glinted in the sunlight. He reached out to take it and a hand clamped down on his wrist, drawing his attention away long enough for the glamour to disappear and the colours in the scarf faded to dull browns and blacks.Jean turned to meet a furious gaze; chestnut eyes lit with a fire that chilled his bones. Shivering, he found himself shifting uneasily in Marco's stormy gaze. He could feel himself growing smaller, shrinking under the piercing scrutiny of his faerie companion. But Jean was freed from the other's glare when the merchant spoke and Marco whirled on the man.“O Your Royal Highness! Was he yours? Please, accept my humblest of apologies. Had I known there was already a claim on him I would never have--” The merchant twisted his hands together, beedy eyes narrow and far too bright--almost challenging. Marco's lips drew together in a thin line. Jean had never seen him stand so tall, so intimidating. His insides turned over. “Oh, hush, you pig. Begone, I'm not in the mood for your groveling. Sell your wares to someone more gullible.”The merchant, who Jean could now tell actually had the snout of a boar, bowed deeply to Marco and turned his attention to another viewing his items. Marco tugged on Jean's arm, dragging him through the market, and, while Jean's mouth watered at the incredible scents of cheese and freshly baked bread, his eyes now revealed a truth to him that shook him. Rotting food stood stacked on tables and in baskets, wilted flowers had been crammed in large, cracked vases, and rough, torn burlap lay lank where silks had been moments before. Merchants with grotesque faces and knarled bodies called out to passerbys, and Jean cringed in horror.Marco didn't speak to him until they reached the other end of the bazaar, face stoic and hardened, and even then it wasn't until Jean had wrenched his arm free of the faerie's bruising grip and demanded of him, “What was that?”“A Goblin Market.” Marco stared down at his the hand he'd had wrapped around Jean's wrist, clenching and releasing his fingers.“A what?”“A Goblin Market, you dunce. Doesn't the Otherworld have stories about them too? Or is it just Fae and the Lost Forest that you're wary of?” Jean stayed silent, waiting for Marco to continue. He licked his lips.“They travel between worlds and sell their wares to unsuspecting travelers. Taking anything of theirs will leave you with an overwhelming need for more, but you can never find the market again, so you end up rotting away in a depressed state. It's a trap. A pure gimmick to get you addicted to something you can never have.” Marco straightened, and Jean didn't dare look him in the eyes. He stared instead at the tantalisingly bare shoulder, freckles glimmering, almost ominous. Swallowing, Jean clenched his fists for a moment, then took a deep breath. He unclenched them slowly. “So... You saved me?”“Yes, obviously. When you get stuck in the Lost Forest, it's going to be because of me, not because of some stupid, sniveling, eyesore goblin!” Marco's wings unfurled then, beating furiously, and he stamped the ground with his feet, like a child throwing a tantrum. "You're mine!"When, he'd said. When, not if. It hit Jean like a rock to his ribs, winding him. He wheezed--he was so stupid, so fucking stupid to think that he could trust the faerie. Of course Marco was only stringing him along until he could get Jean to slip up, until Jean talked to the wrong person or did the wrong thing and ended up bound in some sort of magic spell. He was stupid to believe that Marco actually saved him because he cared, or because he had any decency at all. He couldn't trust anything in the fae world, even the man that said he'd help him. Especially the man who said that he'd help him. Jean's jaw hardened, eye narrowed, he crossed his arms. "We'll see," he muttered, heart fluttering with the hot anxiety running up his arms. "Freckles."
10069100	Wanna fuck	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Wade Wilson, Peter Parker", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by SaSatan", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-03T00:00:00", "words": "214", "Additional Tags": "they flirt, Wade also uses the word fuck, But thats not a bad thing, Established Relationship", "Relationship": "Peter Parker/Wade Wilson", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Spider-Man - All Media Types, Deadpool - 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 }	He's a hard worker, he works when ever he can and so much he can. Peter Parker wants to make the world a good place.That's why he was in his living room, watching looney tunes at midnight, eating his last chocolate supplies.Peter did not startle when he was interrupted in his laughter by his own phone, signalling an incoming text.He took his phone, at the same time he shoved the last bit of chocolate in his mouth, unlocking his phone and opening his messages. Wanna fuck? To be sure, Peter read the text a few times, double checking that it was Wade texting him.After a minute Peter decided that Wades text was in fact, meant serious and real. You could have started with a greeting at the very last. Peter didn't had to wait long. Hey my spider, my love ; ** wanna fuck? Peter swallowed his chuckle, not wanting to give Wade that satisfaction. Even though Wade was no where near. You are so unromantic At the next text, Peter had to laugh, sadly. Wade put flowers around the bubble, it actually looks cute. Wanna make love? ;) Snorting, Peter got up, went to his bathroom to make himself presentable. At the same time, he texted Wade back. Bring chocolate with you
10077293	The 12 Pains Of	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by Lady Bahiya [archived by HPFandom_archivist]", "chapters": "12/12", "completed": "2009-12-25", "published": "2009-12-15T00:00:00", "words": "2,961", "Additional Tags": "Explicit Language, Out of Character, Alternate Universe, Humor, Parody, Romance", "Relationship": "Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter/Severus Snape", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "HPFandom, Darkest Midnight", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "Multi, M/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Title: The 12 Pains Of Christmas – The Hogwarts WayAuthor: Lady BPairing: Harry/Draco/SeverusRating: PG13 for languageSummary: Draco and Severus knew that Harry never had an ideal Christmas, growing up with The Dursleys. They were determined to give him the best Christmas ever – the muggle way. No one told Draco it would be so hard!Author's Note: I sat here the last few weeks thinking of what I was going to write for my annual HP-themed Christmas fic and this popped into my head. This will most be a series of song-fic drabbles to the tune of "The 12 Pains of Christmas" by The Bob Rivers Comedy Troupe.Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and plots from the Harry Potterverse belong to JK Rowling and various publishing companies and movie studios. "The 12 Pains Of Christmas" is written by Bob Rivers and I do not claim the rights to this song. I am not making any money from this, I am simply doing this for the fun of it. Any plot devices and original characters belong to me alone and are simply a figment of my imagination.Song Links: Want to listen to the song? You can listen to it here. To download it for your own collection, you can find it here. The first thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me, is finding a Christmas tree... They had been wandering the lot of trees for what seemed like hours."Severus, I'm freezing! Why can't I use a heating charm?" Draco complained for the thousandth time. Severus had to clamp down on the urge to hex him."Because we promised Harry we wouldn't." Severus growled."This sucks." Draco whined."Don't be childish." Severus sighed, rolling his eyes when he caught Draco sticking his tongue out.Harry ran toward them, eyes sparkling, face flushed with the cold and excitement."I found it!" he grinned, grabbing Draco's hand."S'about bloody time." Draco muttered. Severus could only shake his head as he followed his partners... ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The second thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me: Rigging up the lights... "Why the hell aren't these lights blinking?" Draco complained later that evening. Severus felt his inner temperature go for mildly annoyed to slow-simmering rage."The flasher light is blown, hang on a minute." Harry stated, digging through a packet of spare bulbs he'd purchased. He quickly located the darkened bulb and changed it, grinning with delight when the lights began their twinkling right away. "I'm going to check on the popcorn. Think you can handle those lights?""Got it covered. How hard can it be?" Draco replied. Harry kissed Draco's cheek as he got to his feet, rubbing Severus's shoulder as he passed on his way to the kitchen."Draco you don't know what you're doing, do you?" Severus asked once Harry was out of earshot. Draco pulled out his wand."Easy as pie." Draco smirked."You promised." Severus reminded him."I hate muggles." Draco grumbled, stashing his wand away...When Harry returned to the living room, he nearly bit his tongue in half to prevent himself from laughing at the sight he was now witness to.Draco had tried hanging the lights on the tree and had gotten himself tangled up in the cords.Severus, stoic man that he was famous for being, had no such qualms and was practically laying on the floor with laughter.With a flick of his hand, Harry freed his lover, a small smile on his face."Fine! You're so bloody smart, you put up these lights!" Draco growled at Severus before storming away."Severus!" Harry sighed."I'll get him." he chuckled, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. Harry laughed and went back into the kitchen, knowing Severus would calm Draco down... ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The third thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me: Hangovers... "Draco, you need to get up. You'll be late for work." a voice whispered in his ear. Draco groaned and turned his head toward the speaker, regretting it not a moment later when a herd of dragons began doing the Can-Can in his head."Am I dead?" he moaned."No, but you should be after all that eggnog you drank last night. Didn't I warn you George always spikes it with vodka?" Draco cracked open an eye and stared at Harry and Severus, both of whom had amused smirks on their faces."Just kill me," Draco told them, "I could use a Hangover potion right now.""Hermione took the last of it for Ron and I haven't had a chance to brew more. You'll have to cure it the muggle way." Severus told him smugly. Draco looked at him, stunned, as Harry set a large glass on the bedside table."Tomato juice and hot sauce. Will definitely cure what ails you. Who wants steak and eggs?" Harry asked. Draco turned green and bolted for the bathroom. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The fourth thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me: Sending Christmas Cards... "Oh this is beyond ridiculous!" Draco exclaimed, staring at the pile of cards covering every available surface of their living room."You promised you'd help me." Harry pouted."I promised to help you send Christmas cards to a few select people! Not the whole bloody wizarding community!""There are muggle ones here as well." Severus stated from his desk where he was tackling a stack of cards from former Hogwarts staff and students.Harry scowled at him, "Fine, if you aren't going to help you can sleep in the guest room tonight."After a moment of silence, Draco shuffled over to the chair across the desk that Harry was using and picked up an unsealed envelope."Can I at least use magic?""No." Harry told him, "Get licking.""I'd rather be licking anything but envelopes right now." Draco muttered, thinking he hadn't been heard."That can be arranged. I believe our former Minister Fudge needs his arse shined." Severus stated, getting angry on Harry's behalf. Severus was getting sick of Draco's general whining and upsetting Harry. Draco's face flushed red and he silently began licking envelopes. Hours later... "Hear that, Harry?" Severus asked. Harry looked up at him."What's that?""Blessed silence." Severus smiled, pointedly looking at Draco. Draco scowled at them both."I warned you not to lick your lips after all those envelopes. Not my fault your lips glued shut." Harry laughed. Draco turned his glare up another notch, which had no effect on Harry. Harry waved his wand to clean Draco's face and proceeded to snog him senseless. Draco forgot his anger after that, "Thank you for helping me.""You're welcome." Draco smiled, still dazed from the kiss.Maybe this won't be so bad, if it keeps putting a smile on his face. Draco thought to himself... ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The fifth thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me: Five months of bills! Draco stared at the roll of parchment that seemed to stretch from one end of the house to another."What's this, then?" he wondered, proud of the fact that his voice was calm."A list of things I bought for the orphanages and Hogwarts." Harry told him, checking something on the parchment to the items in the large box on the floor."And what, exactly, did you buy for the little tykes?""Clothes, toys, a couple of Christmas trees, lights, stockings, four large Christmas hams..." As Harry rattled off his extremely large list, Draco clenched his fist at his sides and counted backward from seven million...in Swahili. An hour later... "...new cauldrons, potions supplies, new Quidditch gear, brooms, new tables for the Great Hall, and dinnerware." Harry finished, "You're angry."Draco let out a slow steady breath, "I'm not angry. I'm just wondering why you felt the need to buy it all at once.""Because it's Christmas and I wanted to. I never had a lot when I was younger and now that I have so much, I want to give back to the very people who accepted me, made me feel like I belonged here.""Sounds like a good reason to me." Severus nodded."You okay with this?" Harry wondered. Draco saw the saddened look in his lover's eyes and felt his heart melt. He smiled and pulled Harry into his arms."It's fine, Harry.""Thanks, love." Harry whispered in his ear. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The sixth thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me: facing the in-laws... Draco bit back the words that wanted to escape when he stepped out of the floo. All he could see was a room full of red hair and freckles. One of the twins (and it galled him to no end he still couldn't tell them apart after all these years) instantly latched on to his leg and wouldn't let go."Merry Christmas, Uncle Draco." the little ball of energy smiled up at him.In for a knut... "Merry Christmas, Charity." Draco replied. The 6-year old girl clinging to his leg smiled widely at him, revealing two missing teeth."You remembered my name this time!" He bent down and pulled the littlest Weasley into his arms."Well so I did. And where is your sister?""Serenity took Uncle Harry into the back to show him her new broom. Grandma Molly said we could try them out tomorrow.""Draco! You made it!" exclaimed Molly, coming into the kitchen. She took Charity from him and shooed her into the living room before taking Draco's things and shoving a glass of eggnog into his hands. He set it down quickly when she wasn't looking and waded his way through the sea of Red to join his partners near the warm fire beside the Christmas tree.This may be the best Christmas yet, if I'm starting to tolerate The Weasleys. Draco thought to himself as he pulled Harry into his arms. Harry smiled at him and rested his head on Draco's shoulder as the soft sounds of a Christmas melody filtered from the wireless. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The seventh thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me: The Salvation Army. "And just why are we doing this again?" Draco wondered as he skirted around dozens of boxes that had been stacked in their attic. Harry blew dust off one such box and sneezed."Because we don't need any of this stuff anymore." Severus replied, handing Harry a handkerchief."But it's my stuff, why should I give it to some dirty little orphan who probably won't take care of it properly?" Draco scowled. Harry looked up at him sharply, pain in his eyes."I'm one of those 'dirty little orphans', Draco. I can't believe you just said that." Harry whispered, hurt."Harry-" But Harry brushed by him, leaving him and Severus alone in the attic."After all that Harry has been through, you say the one thing guaranteed to hurt him the most. I cannot believe you, Draco." Severus said, disappointment coloring his tone."I didn't mean it, you know that.""Then you also know why this charity function is important to Harry!" Severus snapped."I suppose you're mad at me, too." Draco sighed. Severus sat down next to Draco on the dusty floor and pulled him close."I'm not mad at you. I'm mad over the fact that after all we've been through to be together, all the battles we've fought, you still can't let your heart go.""Someone once told me I don't have a heart." Draco stated."Do you love me?" Severus wondered. Draco looked at him, startled."Of course I do.""Do you love Harry?""Yes.""How do you know, Draco?" Severus asked. Draco stared at him, unsure how to answer. Severus saw this in his eyes and nodded. He got to his feet, dusting himself off. "When you know the answer, only then will your heart decide." Severus turned and left the room. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The eighth thing at Christmas, that's such a pain to me: I WANT A TRANSFORMER FOR CHRISTMAS! For the tenth time this day, Draco wondered how he let Harry and Severus talk him into this ridiculous farce. Oh yeah! Harry gave me his sad-eyed, kicked puppy look, and Severus threatened to withhold sex...for a month! "Smile...Santa!" Harry hissed between his teeth as the next child in line moved to sit on "Santa" Draco's lap. Draco resisted the urge to growl and turned a bright smile on the blonde, blue-eyed boy in his lap."And what do you want for Christmas, little boy? (1)" Draco/Santa asked. The little boy looked at him with wide unblinking eyes for the longest time. Just when Draco was about to send the child on his way, he came back to reality with a blink."I want an Official Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two-Hundred-Shot Range Model Air Rifle!" the boy exclaimed in one breath. Draco stared at him, shocked for a moment, before an absurd thought came to him."You'll shoot your eye out, kid! Merry Christmas!" And he pushed the little menace off his lap."Draco!" Harry growled."Don't tell me you didn't think of it either.""I did, but still -""I will not contribute to the delinquency of a minor, no matter how long Severus holds back sex." Draco whispered. Harry couldn't help but chuckle as he drew forward the next child."I WANT A TRANSFORMER FOR CHRISTMAS!!" the kid shouted directly in Draco's ear. Draco looked at Harry, whose face was bright red with suppressed laughter."You. Owe. Me." Draco growled. (1) From the Jean Sheppard movie "A Christmas Story" – which I also do not own. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The ninth thing at Christmas, that's such a pain to me: finding parking spaces... Harry sat in the back of the sleek silver Jag, struggling not to laugh as Draco moved the car up and down the parking lot of the shopping center. Draco had insisted on going Christmas shopping the muggle way and Harry didn't argue with him, allowing this small concession for the holidays.Draco didn't count on having to fight people for an empty spot."There's one." Severus pointed out, watching as a car pulled out. Draco sighed with relief, but the minute he started to turn in, a smaller, faster car beat him to it. The man got out and looked a Draco with a rueful grin."Sorry, buddy! Better luck next year!" the man called out before jogging into the building. Harry felt the magic in the air and decided to, just this once, let Draco have his way. It was only fair, after all he had put up with over the last week.Before Severus could blink, Draco had drawn his wand and levitated the man's car to the roof of the mall, obliviating any muggles who witnessed the strange phenomenon. Smirking at his lovers, he pulled into the empty slot."Feel better now?" Severus asked."Much." Draco smiled, opening the car door, "Let's go shopping!" ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The tenth thing at Christmas, that's such a pain to me: "Batteries not included!" Such an innocuous phrase. Draco sighed, staring at the three words at the bottom of the box.He knew what it meant of course. Why did I let Severus talk me into buying this thing? "Because you asked me what Harry never had as a child and I told you one of those hand held electronic games teenage muggle boys are so fond of. Not my fault you forgot batteries for it." Severus replied, guessing Draco's thoughts."I don't supposed you would know if any are around here?" Draco asked, staring at all the open bags and wrapping paper covering every surface of their bedroom."Accio triple a batteries!" Severus grinned, watching as one of the smaller bags flew into his hand."Thank you, Severus." Draco said, his heart melting a little.Severus offered Draco one of his rare smiles, "You're welcome."Draco went back to his wrapping.He's finally starting to get it. Severus nodded to himself. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The eleventh thing at Christmas, that's such a pain to me: stale TV specials... "You know Dasher...and Dancer...and Prancer...and Vixen..." Draco stared at the television screen, trying his damnedest to stop his eye from twitching. Harry had fallen in love with the movie "Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer" some years before and had been watching it every year since.His hand twitched toward the remote, wondering if he could get away with changing the channel. Then Harry snuggled closer, nuzzling his nose in the warmth of Draco's neck, and stilled in his sleep with a small sigh. Draco gave him a tender smile and moved his hand away from the remote. Across the room, Severus caught his eye and smiled warmly.I understand now. Draco murmured in his mind.Good. Severus nodded. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The twelfth thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me: singing Christmas carols... Harry sat between Draco and Severus at the Royal Opera House in London, watching the Vienna Boys Choir perform their annual Christmas concert. He was enchanted with the music, letting it fill his heart with Christmas joy and love. He raised the hand on his left, kissing Severus's palm. Severus gifted him with a warm smile and a whispered "I love you."Harry turned to look at Draco, stunned by what he saw on his face. Draco had tears streaming down his cheeks and his eyes were wide in awe. Harry gently touched his arm and Draco looked at him."I love you, Harry." Draco whispered. Harry's own eyes widened. It was the first time he could recall since their bonding that Draco had ever said those words.The smile those three words placed on Harry's face, would live in Draco's memory forever."I love you, too, Draco. Merry Christmas." Harry smiled, leaning forward to kiss him. The End!
10091651	Waking Up	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Sherlock Holmes, Jim Moriarty", "Fandom": "Sherlock (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by orphan_account", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-05T00:00:00", "words": "159", "Additional Tags": "Sleepy Cuddles, Late at Night, Gay Sex", "Relationship": "Sherlock Holmes/Jim Moriarty", "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 }	It was early in the morning. The sun had not risen yet and the streetlights were still in full shine. Sherlock gazed over at where his alarm clock should have been and remembered the night before.Jim Moriarty had kicked his clock right off of his side table. They had engaged in some rough horseplay and the damage had been done. Truth be told, rough sex is probably the most comical way to break a clock.Sherlock now turned to the man beside him. Pale face illuminated by the street lights through the window. Funny, he thought, how Moriarty looked when he slept. So peaceful.Sherlock was used to his sly remarks and over-emphasized facial expressions, but here, he was so natural and comfy. Not stressed.Noticing Moriarty's slight tremble from the cold, he pulled the blankets over both of their shoulders carefully to not disturb him. Jims face relaxed even more.Sherlock smiled. It was a wonderful night.
10066928	Minewt Drunk Beauty	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Minho, Newt", "Fandom": "The Maze Runner (Movies)", "Language": "中文-普通话國語", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by rate0101", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-03T00:00:00", "words": "3,283", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Minho/Newt (Maze Runner)", "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 }	Minho發誓再也不跟Gally喝酒了。　　睜開眼的感覺就像昨晚喝的酒全都衝進腦袋裡攪和，昏昏沉沉暈暈眩眩，紅血球化作一根根細小的針對血管突突突突刺個沒完。　　隔著窗簾也感覺得出來外頭很亮。　　他試圖想起拚酒大會是怎麼結束的，然後下一秒呻吟一聲放棄，現在除了那股熟悉而美好（同時不會引人頭痛）的香味他什麼也不能想——至少他知道自己回家了。　　安心感讓他再次沉睡。　　再睜開眼時外面已經沒那麼刺眼了，金黃溫暖灑在木質地板上。　　但是最漂亮的顏色並不在身邊。　　Minho坐起來、揉揉太陽穴，頭痛稍微緩解了點，然後起身尋求人類本能所需。水、食物和美人。　　廚房裡傳來微波爐的嗡嗡響，和嘟嚷聲和在一起像是某種和諧音樂，與三合一咖啡的香味一起飄到走廊。　　Newt穿著一件黑色居家褲和深褐色的寬鬆毛衣、領口寬到僅僅只是削過肩線，露出後頸幾節微微凸起的脊椎。外層再套上米色圍裙。　　他側對Minho靠在流理台邊，捧著馬克杯不成調地哼唱著（Newt唱歌可好聽了，但平常一時興起的哼歌真的就是完全沒在管走音）。　　「喔，睡美人醒了。」在發現他時露出一個傻傻的笑容，勾住他的脖子。　　「那你是什麼？黑魔女嗎？」他低頭想要親親。他們習慣總是接吻，他喜歡這樣。　　「我比較喜歡當白馬王子。」但Newt把他推開。「而王子討厭酒味。」這實在有點尷尬。他是該沖個澡，酒精的酸臭味讓Newt皺起鼻子把他推得更遠，但沒有鬆開勾著他脖子的手。　　如果Newt是貓（他在家總是一副慵懶的貓咪姿態），那此時Minho就是那隻被貓咪抓住尾巴的老鼠，玩弄於肉球之間。他的貓從來不會真的玩死他。「那如果睡美人乖乖洗澡呢？」於是他垂手把臉埋在潔白的頸窩，哪裡有根圍裙的綁帶擋著，鼻尖磨起來不那麼順利。「王子願意先讓他預支一個救命吻嗎？」　　Newt咯咯笑，柔軟的耳垂擦過他的顴骨，「不行，我要用晚餐呢。」　　鬆垮的毛衣垂落一邊，露出Newt白皙渾圓的肩膀，半個肩頸線一覽無遺，他幾乎可以從圍裙高窄的領線裡看到隱約不明的溝。　　Newt注意到他的視線，又勾起那抹壞心眼的笑——每當他想幹壞事時都是這樣笑，約有百分之五十的機率他會被壓得死死的，另外百分之五十則是絕處逢生，令人又愛又恨——Newt縮了縮肩膀讓衣服徹底滑落，在他吞口水時扯了扯圍裙領子。「還是你想跳過晚餐，先、吃、我？」　　光是聽到這句話他都要硬了。今天的Newt特別溫柔令他起了一身雞皮疙瘩。「我想我還是先——」　　「這樣吧，如果公主殿下幫我解開這件圍裙，」修長的手指按摩著他的後頸，語氣裡充滿了不容質疑的命令。「會得到一份特別大禮。」熱氣吐在耳畔太過灼人，他突然覺得哪裡不對勁。　　Newt轉過身，他聽到什麼東西垮下來的聲音。　　那是被拉到最緊最小、還有點濕的瞎卡的死結。　　對一個宿醉的鈍手指來說，這個死結毫無疑問地是在昭示他男友有多不爽。　　Newt的生氣分兩種，一種是擺明就是在生氣，炸彈已經擺在那兒還硬要剪錯線就是活該找死；另一種，就是和現在的情況一摸一樣。手榴彈神不知鬼不覺的被塞到手裡，而他連自己拔了保險栓都不知道。　　他絕望地掙扎（差不多是上了砧板的魚抖兩下的程度），用指頭捏起那粒又小又硬的結，但是宿醉的頭痛彷彿又回來折磨人。　　「解不開？」距離手榴彈爆炸還有五秒。「喝這麼瘋啊。」　　「Newt——」　　Minho被一路帶回房間，Newt看起來瘦歸瘦，該有的力氣倒一點也不缺。他被推上床、被逼的床頭，半個身子都籠罩在Newt的陰影下，畫面因為圍裙看起來挺滑稽的。　　直到Newt面無表情地拿出口袋裡的水果刀。　　不管他昨晚做了什麼，都已經打破他們吵架的紀錄了。這不好、非常不好。　　「親愛的，有事好好說⋯⋯」　　但Newt沒有理他，他執起刀子轉向自己脖子。這下Minho真的慌了，他握住Newt拿刀那隻手的手腕，深怕對方做傻事。「你不要想不開！」　　Newt甩了兩下、沒法掙脫他，於是直接拉起繩結掛到刀鋒上。「我沒有。」稍微用力劃兩下繩子就斷了，圍裙落到他身上，水果刀也功成身退被扔到地上。　　眼看刀子遠了，Minho也放心了，乖乖讓Newt把他兩隻手舉高過頭。只要不會出命案、登上隔天的社會版頭條，被綁在床頭也無所謂。用圍裙綁？沒問題。　　「Newt？」　　「哇，你還記得我叫什麼名字。」　　「我當然記得——」　　Newt爬上他，領口的景色太美好，他忍不住隨著衣料搖晃。「那你記得自己怎麼回家的嗎？」他的臉被強制固定住。　　不記得。　　這麼說是騙人的。　　剛剛一瞬間他突然想起來了。（要不要這麼戲劇化？）　　和Gally喝掛的前一刻他聽到Alby對某人說：「他死定了。」；女人的香水味；燈光；笑聲；濕黏的觸感印在脖子上有點噁心；酒氣和皮革味；「Newt會殺了你。」；門後的他的天使。　　他最恨Alby的一點就是，Ably永遠是對的。他死定了。　　「我、」他想抹一把臉，然後想起自己已經被綁起來了。「想起來了。大概。」　　「嗯哼。」　　「我很抱歉，可那是意外。」　　「嗯哼。」　　「你知道我愛你、我是你的。」　　「嗯哼。」　　「所以沒必要跟一個我連高矮胖瘦都不知道的女人吃醋好不好？」　　「你竟然喝到連被別的女人摸都沒感覺了。」Newt瞇起眼睛掃描著他。「我討厭酒味，更討厭廉價又難聞的香水，最討厭不屬於我的標記。」他向後退，脫掉衣服，露出體態優美的上半身。　　「所以今天你的晚餐，」Newt的手指伸進褲子，沿著腰線緩慢退下居家褲，先是白花花的大腿，再來是修長的小腿，勾在腳踝邊。「沒收。」這樣的速度簡直是赤裸裸的折磨。　　他多想撲上去吻這個小暴君。　　儘管他甚至做好要被上的準備了。（以前也不是沒有玩過）　　但Newt只是退到他碰不到的距離，拿出不知道什麼時候準備好的潤滑劑。　　喔不。　　潤滑劑落上蔥白的手指，順著指縫滑的手指骨的凹陷裡。　　不、拜託！　　晶瑩光滑沒入微張的雙腿之間，滾動的喉結帶出一聲悶吟。　　這個懲罰、太沒人性了。　　Minho從不懷疑自己在床上的耐力。大部分的情況下，他們一致認同前戲很重要，想要爽就必須確保做好全套（偶爾玩角色扮演時會跳過這個步驟，那是事前的事），經過第一次的教訓，他可捨不得Newt痛到掉眼淚。　　而現在他不那麼確定了。　　Newt貓一般趴縮在床鋪上，手指在自己的舌尖上打轉，時不時帶出纖長細絲，順著下巴尖滑上潔白床單；另一隻手、從他的視角恰好只能看到臀部輪廓、但從滑膩的水聲不難想像那是如何緩慢又激烈的擴張。　　他覺得自己快要射了——即使剛剛他男友額外在他的陰莖底部綁上一條紅色緞帶（早知道生日就別玩了，現在倒好）。　　Newt雙眼迷濛、唇縫微張冒出白皮、吐出來的熱氣和細細碎碎的低吟刺激著他的小腿肚。Minho在「讓我幫你」跟「要不要先喝點水再繼續」間猶豫，但仔細想想他這張嘴就是出了名的吐不出象牙，閉上嘴正好。　　「哈啊⋯⋯恩、」沾著滑液的手流水般從髖骨側畫到腰間，帶出一條亮晶晶的痕跡。Newt撐起身體，過度白皙的肌膚上有布紋的印記，更凸顯精瘦的身體線條。他的乳頭挺立發紅，和即將成熟的櫻桃一樣漂亮。　　柔軟的指腹抓住他的膝蓋，和貓的肉球一般抓得Minho心癢。「Newt？」Minho覺得再這樣下去他會興奮成智障（應該說他已經是了、剛剛到現在他有說過什麼正常的話嗎？）　　Newt的手指纏上他快要爆炸的兄弟，修剪整齊的指甲在冠狀溝周圍畫圈、輕盈得如同鵝毛飄盪其上。「該死、我還是喜歡它。」他注意到Newt喉結上下滾動時，身體仰出性感的弧度，沙啞的嗓音彷彿迴盪在耳邊，嚐起來麻麻的。　　接著他的小貓整個人攀附到他身上，兩人的陰莖相觸時交融出甜美的呻吟，精細的鎖骨距離他的鼻尖只有兩指寬，可以聞到柔和的香味。　　如果現在破戒咬一口，是不是能吃到櫻桃味？（當初應該買下那個櫻桃味的潤滑劑，他覺得那超級適合Newt，而Newt用拳頭展現了對香精的不贊同）。　　「我猜該實踐鞭糖理論了？」　　「我很樂意成為實驗對象。」　　Newt沒有解開緊緊綁著的圍裙，他扶住流著前液的柱體對準穴口，緩慢沉下身。　　「哼嗯、嗯⋯⋯」　　粉色的胸口等不及上下擺動，汗水點綴的光澤在肌膚上隨光線滑動。　　「該死，」灼熱燃燒在下體，他一點辦法也沒有。　　Newt習慣性的皺眉靠在他的前額上，汗水黏住他們的頭髮，呼吸變得急促悶燒，越來越吞不下呻吟。　　身上人的律動逐漸失去規律，在某次進入中抽畜那一下後，Newt舔弄著發乾的下唇勾起嘴角，繼續進攻。　　Minho知道自己該怎麼做，但他忍不住啣住那兩片唇瓣，在對方的默許下大肆舔弄，吻入所有蜜糖。　　天哪。火辣至極。　　唇舌交纏好似他們被揉合在一起。柔韌中汗液溼滑的磨蹭在肉體與肉體縫隙間熊熊燃燒著，宛如生於海底深處的火焰竄延。　　Newt推開他大口呼吸著，然後轉戰啃咬著他的耳朵和脖子，刺痛紅腫是他滿足的依據。　　「嗯⋯⋯嗯哼、那裏，啊、啊、哈啊⋯⋯呃嗯、嗯⋯⋯」　　甜甜的、鹹鹹的、很濕、很燙、很軟。　　Newt焦慮的搖晃帶出更多野性。　　「Minho、我想⋯⋯想，要去、了，」　　原生躁動被接吻緩和、被交合鼓動，淫靡的液體催發著情慾，跟隨本能對快樂的渴望。　　Newt緊緊貼著他，兩隻手抱住他的脖子，在他唇間呻吟、喉頭滾下他的低吼。　　濕熱絞緊他。　　快要窒息的快感幾乎把他們燒成灰燼。　　直到軟涼薄水澆熄在下腹悶悶響燒的火。　　細細的喘息以無法察覺的速度降溫。　　他不確定過了多久，身上人沒動靜讓他很擔心（當然、他的兄弟還在懸崖邊緣等著誰把韁繩鬆開呢，但沒穿衣服就睡著的他的男友更值得憂慮）。　　小小的哼哼噴進耳殼裡，Newt翻下他結束溫存（滑出熱道的陰莖因為溫差發顫），也不管滿身汗和腹部殘餘的精液，魚一般竄進被子裡將粉色肌膚嚴嚴實實掩蓋住。　　「Newt、寶貝，我知道你還在生大的那個的氣，但是對你喜歡的那個好一點，它還在哭⋯⋯」他晃晃孤零零的兄弟　　Newt發出一聲疲憊的鼻音。「我累了。」然後翻個身，寬白的額頭黏著濕髮靠在他腰側。　　「那至少幫我解開？」　　Newt扭扭身，調整到最佳位置。「嗯⋯⋯你最好明天把床清理乾淨。」答非所問。　　Minho思考著如何在被綁住的情況下自慰，一般來說他很樂意求助估狗大神，可惜現在他連手機都沒法拿。
10057931	Harry Potter - Vendetta	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": null, "Characters": "Draco Malfoy, Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Lucius Malfoy, Severus Snape, Blaise Zabini, Tom Riddle", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "Deutsch", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by Kagaaraka [archived by HPFandom_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2008-02-26T00:00:00", "words": "658", "Additional Tags": "Explicit Language, Slash sex, Out of Character, Sexual Content, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Tragedy, Bonding, Drama, Horror, Supernatural - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Suspense, Romance", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Draco Malfoy/Other(s), Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Sirius Black/Severus Snape, Harry Potter/Voldemort", "Series": null, "Collections": "HPFandom", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": "Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage Sex, Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Categories": "M/M, F/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Disclaimer:die Charaktere sind alle JKR nur die Idee is mir xD Nebenpairings: Ideen/Vorschläge? Beta:InaBaukiss und knuddelLegende:'blabla' = Gedanken "blabla" = Gerede .::blabla::. = Parsel ~blabla~ = Unterhaltung per Gedanken ______________________________________________________________________________Ein schwarzhaariger Junge mit smaragdgrünen Augen, einer blitzförmigen Narbe und strubbligem Haar lag im Keller des Ligusterwegs 4. Harry wartete sehnsüchtig auf Mitternacht, denn dann wäre er endlich 17 und könnte endlich von hier abhauen. Denn die Ferien waren bisher die schlimmsten seines Lebens, er musste nicht nur den Haushalt machen wie auch sonst immer sondern bekam auch noch viel mehr Schläge wie früher. Zu Essen bekam er so gut wie nie und Wasser gerade mal so viel, dass er nicht verdurstet.Noch 3 Minuten dann könnte er endlich von hier verschwinden. Der Junge-der-überlebte wollte sich aufrappeln um abzuhauen, als ihn ein gleißender Schmerz durchlief. ‘Was war das?’, fragte er sich, rappelte sich aber wieder auf. Erst da merkte er, dass er keine Schmerzen mehr hatte. Da er jetzt aber keine Zeit zu verschwenden hatte, machte er sich auf den Weg nach oben. Vorm Schrank unter der Treppe stoppte er um seine Sachen mitzunehmen. Er nahm seinen Zauberstab und zauberte seine Schulsachen klein, packte sie ein und verließ ohne einen Blick zurückzuwerfen den Ligusterweg 4. Als er endlich draußen war rief er den Fahrenden Ritter.Als der Fahrende Ritter dann schließlich mit in London hielt, obliviatet er Stunpike, da er keine Spur für den Orden der Suppenhühner oder das ober Suppenhuhn hinterlassen wollte. Danach durchquerte er schnellen Schrittes den Tropfenden Kessel und stupste die verschieden Steine mit seinem Zauberstab an, um in die Zaubererwelt zu gelangen. Sobald er hindurchgegangen war, atmete er erleichtert auf, zog sich die Kapuze seines Umhangs, den er im Fahrenden Ritter angezogen hatte, tief ins Gesicht und ging schnurstracks in die Nocturngasse. Trotz der späten Stunde waren noch unzählige Zwielichtige Gestalten unterwegs. Harry interessierte das aber nicht im geringsten, er wollte nur noch ins Bett. Deshalb folgte er ein paar Männern und stand schließlich vor einer heruntergekommenen Gaststätte mit dem Namen “Dein Ende”. ’Wow, da fühlt man sich ja gleich richtig geborgen. Ach was solls, zum schlafen wird’s schon reichen.’ Mit diesen Gedanken betrat der Goldjunge Dumbledores die Gaststätte und ging direkt zum Tresen.Ein ca. 50 jähriger bulliger Mann mit einer kalten Aura stand hinter dem Tresen und beäugte Harry argwöhnisch. “Was willst du hier? Wir können hier nichts mit kleinen Arschkriechern anfangen.” Harry blitzte den Mann wütend an ‘Was fällt dem eigentlich ein ich bin doch kein kleiner Arschkriecher??!!!’ in seinen Gedanken versunken merkte er gar nicht, das sich eine eiskalte Aura um ihn bildete und die Luft sich um ein paar Grad abkühlte. “Ich bin kein kleiner Arschkriecher, verstanden?” zischte er den Mann wütend an, wobei sich seine Ausstrahlung immer weiter verdunkelte, sodass er nach und nach die Aufmerksamkeit aller Gäste bekam. “Ganz ruhig! Tut mir leid wenn ich dich verärgert hab. Womit kann ich helfen”, versuchte der Kellner so ruhig wie möglich zu entgegnen. “Ein Zimmer für die nächsten 4 Wochen. Geld spielt keine Rolle.” “Okay, dann folg mir bitte.” Daraufhin verließ Harry dicht hinter dem Kellner den Schenkraum und so gingen sie zwei Etagen nach oben. Vor einer schwarzen Tür blieb der Mann stehen. “So da wären wir. Du kannst darin machen was du willst, solange es das Zimmer bei deinem verlassen wieder so aussieht wie jetzt. Ich hoffe für dich, dass du auch wirklich genug Geld hast.” “Keine Sorge. Gute Nacht.”, entgegnete Harry genervt und trat ein. Er belegte die Tür mit den verschiedensten Zauber und legte sich ohne sich umzusehen schlafen, denn er war todmüde, immerhin war es bereits weit nach drei Uhr morgens. ___________________________________________________________________ich weiß is sehr kurz aba ich beeil mich mit dem nächsten pitel xDReview????ganz lieb guggnaja keine Ahnung ist meine erste FF duck würd mich über Kritik freuen, egal ob negativ oder positiv, wobei positiv natürlich schöner ist ggbis baldPS.: Charakterbeschreibungen findet ihr bei animexx
10080878	sightseeing	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Alina Starkov, Nikolai Lantsov", "Fandom": "The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by hanpersands", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-04T00:00:00", "words": "941", "Additional Tags": "Sharing a Bed, Married Couple, Friends to Lovers, Kissing", "Relationship": "Nikolai Lantsov/Alina Starkov", "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 }	“Oh, no.” There was a light in Nikolai’s hazel eyes that was, frankly, obnoxious. “It seems that there is only one room left at this inn”Alina elbowed him in the side, leaning past him to address the innkeeper. “We’ll take it.”The innkeeper, a balding man in his late forties, looked dubiously at the both of them. Alina didn’t think she was imagining the judgment in his doughy face, and while the temptation to tear into him about his outdated morals was there, she wanted to faceplant into something resembling a mattress more.So she wriggled her fingers at him, flashing the simple gold band that replaced the far more ridiculous green emerald when she and Nikolai were doing stupid things like travelling cross-country undercover. “We’re married. Our coin is good, and we’re more than happy to take it elsewhere if you’ve got a problem.”The man sniffed. “This is the only inn in town.”Nikolai smiled, the effect dazzling their current opponent, and pulling a heavy eyeroll out of Alina as he leaned on the bar. “Please do not underestimate my wife’s willingness to camp under the stars out of sheer spite.”Alina smiled as well, except the effect was more a baring of teeth than anything endearing. The innkeeper glanced at her before hurriedly returning his attention to Nikolai, the safer bet of the two of them. He swiped at the coins, grumbling about tourists as though anyone would be approaching the northern border of Racka for sightseeing.“And a good day to you also, sir,” Nikolai said cheerily. He placed his hand on Alina’s lower bacck, and quickly removed it when she shot him a glare that very clearly stated don’t you dare steer me out of here like some kind of cattle.They find the room, which was little more than a straw mattress and a chamberpot. Grudgingly, Alina had to admit that it was at least clean and neat.“Should I request food?” Nikolai asks, throwing himself onto the mattress and tucking gloved hands behind his head. It has the effect of mussing his hair a little bit, and there’s a small chance that Alina’s thoughts start to wander. “Because you looked like you were about to eat that poor man.”“That poor man was all too ready to judge me for taking a room with you.”“I didn’t realise you cared so much about what idiots think, Alina.”“I don’t.” She dropped onto the edge of the mattress, shoving at him until he shifted over for her. “But the next orphan travelling with a man to investigate her history might not have the luxury of a marriage to protect her.”One of his arms abandoned his head, wrapping around her shoulders instead. Nikolai pulled her into his body, and she relished the heat of him as she slung one of her legs over his. Fingers traced a meandering path over his chest until she found his heart, flattening a palm over it. “I’ll pass a decree,” he murmured. “‘Single female orphans seeking their past are to be venerated. Throw roses if possible’.”“You’re a visionary.”“It’s been said.” But he brushed a kiss over the top of her forehead, the soft touch a counterpoint to their banter. Sleep rarely came easily to either of them, but there was something about being away from the palace that had made it a little more bearable lately. Enough that when Alina did wake up with the first rays of the sun, it was to find her husband still asleep.It was a rare occasion, made that much more distinct by the way the lines of his face fell. There was no furrow between his brows, no tightness remaining in sleep. Alina’s fingers twitched with the urge to brush his hair back off his forehead to get a better look, but she didn’t want to wake him. Her throat scratched with the need for water; she swallowed the mild discomfort down and just watched, listening to the peaceful whistle of his breathing.It was impossible to say how much time passed before one hazel eye cracked open. She felt the shift in his body, the brief tension before he remembered where they were and why the mattress was mildly itchy. It ran out of him like water, and he let the eye slide shut again.“That’s very creepy behaviour, you know. I’m feeling a little stalked.”“We’re married.”“I don’t know why you think that gives you the right to watch me while I sleep, Mrs Lantsov.”Alina, who had woken up more often than not to his gaze on her, didn’t bother with a response. Or at least, not a verbal one, instead giving into the urge to card her fingers through his hair now that he was awake. His lips twitched up, eyes still closed, content to let her do as she willed.“Are you going to cut off a lock to keep in a necklace?”“Shut up, Nikolai,” she sighed, and then did the work for him, lips easing softly over his. He shifted on the mattress, rolling his body towards her. One strong arm wrapped around her waist, and she breathed in sharply through her nose as he tugged her flush against him. His teeth teased her bottom lip before abandoning her mouth all together, pressing kisses to the corner of her mouth, her jaw, that one spot behind her ear.Alina’s fingers tightened in his hair, rolling her neck to one side to give him a better angle. “Have I mentioned lately that you’re terrible?”“I could stand to hear it more often.”
10053425	The blind eyes that see	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Uther Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)", "Fandom": "Merlin (TV)", "Language": "Čeština", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by MaryBarrens", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-02T00:00:00", "words": "1,565", "Additional Tags": "Uther Finds Out About Merlin's Magic, Oblivious Arthur", "Relationship": "Merlin/Arthur Pendragon", "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 }	Když se to stalo poprvé, Uthera ani nenapadlo myslet na magii. Teď, při zpětném pohledu a s větším množstvím informací, si říká, že mu to mělo být jasné. Merlin stál přece příliš daleko od jeho syna, na to, aby se k němu dostal včas, když po něm ta žena, co se vydávala za lady Helen, hodila nůž. Příliš daleko, a přece Artuše dokázal odstrčit na stranu, zachránit ho. Uther to přisuzoval jeho překvapivé rychlosti, dobrému oku, snad výborným reflexům. Ve skutečnosti nad tím v tu chvíli zase tolik nepřemýšlel, tak vděčný za záchranu syna, že ho ani nenapadlo o tom klukovi pochybovat. Dokonce ho ještě odměnil. Ve skutečnosti to možná nebyla až taková odměna, protože dobře věděl, jak výbušný dokáže jeho syn být. Neočekával, že by Artuš s tím klukem vydržel dlouho. Slyšel – a celkem ho to pobavilo – o tom jejich setkání na tržišti, viděl tu nechuť v Artušově výrazu, když oznámil, jakou práci ten chlapec dostane. Ten kluk byl drzý, nepochybně, příliš hrdý. Málo ohebný na to, aby z něj kdy mohl být dobrý sluha. Uther počítal s tím, že ho Artuš poslechne, jistě, že možná pár dní přetrpí v chlapcově společnosti, snad se párkrát zasměje na jeho účet nebo ho naučí trochu respektu k lidem s lepším původem, a až mu s ním dojde trpělivost, pošle ho zase pryč. Nepočítal s tím, že Merlin zůstane.Nenapadlo ho ani na okamžik, že by si Artuš toho kluka mohl oblíbit, nebo jaký je vlastně jeho důvod k tomu, aby si ho nechával. Aby ho neposílal zpátky tam, odkud přišel. Artuš má pro toho hloupého kluka, co má problémy zapamatovat si celkem jednoduché pokyny, slabost. Uther nechápe, co jeho syn na tom klukovi vidí, kromě toho, že občas udělá něco, čemu se dá zasmát. Nechápe to do té doby, než se Artuš znovu nedostane do bezprostředního ohrožení života, a ten kluk ho nezachrání mávnutím ruky a tichým zaklínadlem. Uther si je jistý, že Artuš neví o tom, že má ten kluk magii. Ne, jeho syn by mu nikdy nedokázal takhle lhát, ne tak lehkovážně a bez zaváhání, snad ani pro Merlina ne. A upřímně, Uther si je velice dobře vědom toho, že jeho syn není zrovna ten nejvšímavější člověk na světě. Vlastně by se vůbec nedivil, kdyby to Artušovi jednoduše uteklo, ať už z nepozornosti nebo proto, že byl příliš zaujatý vším ostatním – tím, jak si pro toho kluka věčně vymýšlel nějaké hloupé úkoly, aby ho nějak udržel ve své blízkosti, tím, jak si s ním vyměňoval kousavé poznámky, které byly u dvora naprosto nevhodné, ale nikdo neměl to srdce je na to upozornit, protože bylo tak zřejmé, že se tím baví, nebo tím věčným zachraňováním – na to, aby věnoval pozornost něčemu takovému. A Uther si už mnohokrát říkal, kdy Artuš stíhá aspoň tohle, a do toho se ještě připravovat na kralování, vzhledem k tomu, kolik času tráví tím, že na toho kluka dělá oči. Možná to Artuš neví jednoduše proto, že má poněkud zvláštní sklony dostávat v zápalu boje po hlavě, jako třeba tentokrát, protože právě teď leží v bezvědomí na zemi, meč jen na krok od bezvládné paže, absolutně bezmocný, jeho život závislý pouze na tom, co udělají lidé kolem něj, závislý na Merlinovi, který ho nejdřív rychle zkontroloval, aby se přesvědčil, že je naživu, než udělal cokoli jiného, a ještě teď stojí přímo před ním a z jeho očí jen pomalu mizí zlato. A Uther by ho měl nechat zatknout, jistě, neměl by nad tím vůbec uvažovat. Měl by toho kluka dát zavřít, přidělit mu tu nejlépe zabezpečenou celu a spoustu strážných, a na ráno mu dát připravit hranici nebo aspoň popravčí špalek, neohlížet se na to, co by něco takového mohlo udělat s Artušem, ale… Ale ten kluk se postavil před Artuše a znovu mu zachránil život, stejně jako když ho odstrčil z cesty letícímu noži, stejně jako když za něj vypil pohár plný jedu. Bez zaváhání, jako by nad tím nemusel ani přemýšlet, a až potom, když bylo nebezpečí zažehnáno, ho napadlo podívat se kolem sebe, ujistit se, že ho nikdo neviděl. Jeho první instinkt byl chránit svého prince, bez ohledu na to, co by to mohlo znamenat pro něj, a ve skutečnosti, kdyby chtěl, měl stovky příležitostí Artušovi ublížit, za celou tu dobu, co byl v Kamelotu. Trávili spolu spoustu času, a Artuš je pořád naživu a zdravý, možná i klidnější a chápavější než dříve, a Uther ví, že za to může Merlin. Proto nikoho nezavolá. Žádné rytíře ani stráže, protože ten kluk neudělal nic, čím by Artušovi ublížil, a možná, jen možná, mu to dává právo na trochu benevolence. Takže když se Merlin narovná v ramenou a rozhlédne se kolem sebe, aby zjistil, jestli byl odhalen, Uther se podívá jinam. Neřekne o Merlinově magii ani slovo, ani když na něm mladík zakotví pohledem, v obavách, ani když se síň začne plnit lidmi, ani když se Artuš posadí a rozhlédne se okolo a Merlin k němu přispěchá a pomůže mu vstát, s nějakou tlumenou poznámkou, na kterou Artuš odpoví tichým odfrknutím, než se vymaní z jeho sevření, aby mu dokázal, že zvládne stát i bez pomoci. Uther nic neřekne. Čeká a sleduje a nepřestává dávat pozor, ale do ničeho nezasahuje, přestože ani na okamžik nepolevuje ve svém soustředění, protože co když se spletl? Co když Merlin přece jen udělá něco, čím potvrdí jeho nenávist k magii, co když ten kluk jen čeká na vhodnou příležitost, než zaútočí? Ale Merlin… Merlin je jiný. Uther zpovzdálí sleduje každý jeho krok, a Merlin je možná občas hloupý – a Uthera napadá, jestli se vůbec pokouší udržet svoji magii v tajnosti, podle toho, jak neopatrný je – ale nezklame. Je neochvějný v tom, co dělá, a Uther sleduje, jak jeho syna znovu a znovu zachraňuje. Nejdříve snad z povinnosti, potom z loajality a nakonec z lásky. Protože co jiného by mohlo být to, co má v očích, když se dívá na Artuše, než láska? A Artuš se na něj dívá stejně, se stejnou emocí, se stejně intenzivními pocity, jen mnohem méně otevřeně. Zatímco ten kluk se usmívá a oči mu září pokaždé, když Artuš udělá nějaké rozhodnutí, které mu připadá správné, Artuš si zatíná nehty do dlaní a uhýbá pohledem, rty pevně sevřené, jako by měl odvahu pozorovat ho, jen když ho Merlin nevidí, a Uther si ještě pamatuje, jaké to bývalo dřív, předtím, než Igraine zemřela, tehdy, když se na něj dívala stejně, jako se teď Merlin dívá na jeho syna, a to poslední, co by mohl chtít, je Artuše o něco takového připravit. Proto mlčí a ignoruje Merlinův zamyšlený výraz, dokud na něj mladík jednou nepočká v jeho vlastních komnatách. Královské komnaty jsou tím jediným místem, kam ho nikdy nedoprovází stráže, nikdo sem nemá přístup, kromě Uthera samotného a jeho osobního sluhy, a už jeho přítomnost tady je drzost, za kterou by ho mohl Uther potrestat, jakkoli hrubým způsobem by snad mohl chtít. Mohl by ho dát i zabít, za něco takového, pokud by byl přesvědčený o tom, že ten kluk přišel, aby mu ublížil. Místo toho za sebou Uther jen zavře dveře, beze slova, a zůstane stát. Merlin na něj vyčkávavě zírá, oči přilepené na jeho obličeji, jako by se snažil odhadnout jeho reakci, a pak udělá krok k němu. „Víte, že mám magii.“ Merlin vypadá až překvapivě klidně na to, o čem mluví. Uther na jeho slova nijak nezareaguje, což je samo o sobě jasná odpověď. A Merlin to dobře ví. „Nechcete mě zatknout,“ pokračuje tiše, se zmateným výrazem. Ale nezní to jako otázka. Je si dost jistý Utherovými úmysly na to, aby se ani nepokusil o útěk. Dost sebejistý na to, aby za ním přišel sám, z vlastní vůle, do jeho vlastních komnat. „Nechystáte se mě odsoudit, ani popravit, že?“ Uther přimhouří oči, ale neopraví ho. Samozřejmě, kdyby ho chtěl zatknout, kdyby ho chtěl dát popravit nebo přivázat ke kůlu a zbavit se ho jednou provždy – a to by zatraceně měl, pokud chce být důsledný ve svém boji s magií, které má tenhle kluk pravděpodobně víc, než kdy vůbec může potřebovat – udělal by to už dávno. „Chráníš Artuše,“ prohlásí místo toho pevně. Kluk na něj místo toho pár vteřin jen zírá, jako by čekal, že Uther ještě něco dodá. Možná nějaké další vysvětlení, možná požadavky nebo podmínky. Když se nic takového nestane, pomalu přikývne. „Udělal bych cokoli, aby byl Artuš v bezpečí.“ Hlavu má hrdě zvednutou a ramena rovná, nejspíš odhodlaný přesvědčit ho o svých dobrých úmyslech, pokud to bude nutné. Jenže Uther je přesvědčený už dávno. Věděl, že by ten kluk Artušovi neublížil, ve chvíli, kdy ho odstrčil z cesty tomu letícímu noži. Věděl to v každém dalším okamžiku potom, pokaždé, kdy jeho synovi pomohl a zachránil ho a neublížil mu. „To já vím.“ Uther se ani nepohne. Nenabídne mu žádné další vysvětlení, protože jak by to vůbec mohl vysvětlit? Nechá toho kluka naživu, dokud bude na Artušově straně. Bude krýt jeho tajemství, i když se to příčí jeho přesvědčení i dlouholeté politice, i když ten kluk každým svým nádechem porušuje zákon. Bude se dívat jinam, když bude používat magii, pro Artušovo dobro. Bude ho chránit, pokud to bude třeba, bude dávat pozor na jeho zdraví a třeba i dohlížet na jeho blaho, protože cokoli jiného by Artušovi ublížilo. A on to všechno udělá, ochotně, přestože to jde proti všemu, co kdy řekl, všemu, co kdy udělal, všem zákonům, co kdy vydal. Pro Artuše. Uther nikdy neřekl, že není pokrytec.
10067375	Comme des ames soeurs	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Mako (Avatar), Bolin (Avatar), Tu (Avatar)", "Fandom": "Avatar: Legend of Korra", "Language": "Français", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Neechu", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-03T00:00:00", "words": "1,057", "Additional Tags": "Tu Being Tu, Mako is an idiot, Humor, Nuit du FoF", "Relationship": "Korra/Asami Sato", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "Gen, F/F", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Mako n’était pas doué avec les relations, et cela n’était un secret pour personne. Certains, ceux qui connaissaient Tonraq, lui disaient qu’il avait de la chance d’être encore en vie. D’autres, les collègues au poste pour la plupart, lui disaient simplement qu’il était un connard.Mais ce n’était pas comme s’il avait fait exprès d’avoir foiré à ce point avec les deux filles les plus formidables de la terre. (Il avait conscience de la chance qu’il avait eu, et d’à quel point il avait été stupide.)Il ne savait même pas pourquoi il se mettait à penser à ses deux ex-petites-amies tout à coup.— Tu réfléchis trop, lui dit Bolin, un soir, en reposant son verre sur la table du bar où ils s’étaient retrouvés.Entre son travail et les tournages de Nuktuk, le fils du feu avait de moins en moins l’occasion de passer du temps avec son petit frère et il était toujours heureux quand ils arrivaient à se libérer tous les deux.Ce qu’il appréciait moins, c’était quand leur cousin s’invitait et se joignait à eux. Ce n’était pas que Mako n’aimait pas Tu, c’était que... c’était Tu. D’ailleurs, est-ce que Tu venait vraiment de se replacer ce qu’il pensait ? Par Raava, Mako ne voulait même pas savoir.— Je ne vois pas en quoi je réfléchis trop. C’est vous qui me parlez encore de Korra et Asami.Bolin l’observa silencieusement un instant tandis que Tu commandait une nouvelle tournée, sur le compte de Mako. Évidemment.— Ça n’a pas vraiment l’air de te faire réagir. T’es pas jaloux ? Blessé dans ta fierté de mâle ?Mako fixa son cousin et cligna plusieurs fois des yeux.— Parce qu’elles sont amies ? Non ! Elles étaient vraiment faites pour s’entendre et les choses sont plus simples comme ça. C’est vrai que j’ai été un peu jaloux de savoir que Korra n’avait envoyé des lettres qu’à Asami pendant sa convalescence. Je suppose que c’est un peu comme Bolin et moi.Cette fois, ce fut au tour de Tu de le regarder avec un air ahuri.— Comme... Bolin et toi ?Il tourna la tête vers le plus jeune qui leva les mains comme pour se défendre. Pourquoi est-ce que Mako avait l’impression de louper quelque chose ?— Ouais, répondit-il. Comme deux sœurs.— Hmmmmmmmm mouais, hésita Bolin en se grattant la tête. Non.Tu se mit à rire.— Bordel, t’es vraiment flic, Mako ?L’inspecteur fronça les sourcils. Évidemment qu’il était policier. Ce n’était pas comme si Tu ne l’avait jamais vu en uniforme ou que Mako ne l’avait pas retrouvé en cellule de dégrisement après avoir été arrêté pour conduite en état d’ébriété. Plusieurs fois.Bolin passa ses bras autour des épaules de son frère dans un câlin improvisé.— Tu es la personne que j’aime le plus au monde, mon frère, mais jamais je ne ressentirais le besoin de t’embrasser à pleine bouche. C’est le genre de choses que je préfère faire avec Opal.Mako tenta de s’échapper en grimaçant alors que Tu explosait de rire à en faire trembler le sol.— Mais de quoi tu parles ? Tu es bourré ma parole ?Cette fois, Tu hurlait de rire et Bolin soupira.— Mako, Mako, Mako... Tu es un merveilleux policier, et le meilleur frère qu’on puisse avoir... Mais parfois, tu es vraiment stupide.Mako se pinça l’arête du nez en soupirant. Si Tu continuait de rire et si Bolin ne lui expliquait pas tout de suite ce qu’il se passait, il risquait de foudroyer quelqu’un.— Korra... Asami... chantonna Tu.C’était décidé, sa première victime serait son cousin.— Dormant dans le même lit... continua-t-il en se dandinant presque sur sa chaise.— Jolie rime ! le félicita Bolin en applaudissant.Mako rouvrit les yeux.— Quoi ?— Ah, il a compris !— Si tu veux vraiment partir sur l’histoire des sœurs, moi je me pencherais plus sur âmes sœurs.— T’as été tellement nul, dit Tu en vidant son verre, que les deux nanas les plus canons de la ville ont été dégoûtées des mecs au point de finir ensemble. Tu as une dette envers la gent masculine, j’espère que tu en souffriras toute ta vie, cousin.Mako resta silencieux, repensant attentivement à ce qu’on venait de lui dire. Analysant chaque phrase avec cette méticulosité qu’il n’accordait qu’aux enquêtes et aux interrogatoires. Ou n’importe quoi d’autre qui n’incluait pas son idiot de cousin.— Vous pensez que Korra et Asami sortent ensemble, marmonna-t-il finalement, toujours pensif.— Non, je te l’affirme. En tant que résident officiel du domaine Sato, je t’annonce que tes deux ex ont même couché ensemble hier soir.Mako vida son verre cul sec alors que son cousin l’observait en haussant ses sourcils de façon très suggestive. Il fit un geste au serveur pour avoir un nouveau whisky. Cette fois, il demanda un double.Il le but à peu près aussi vite que le précédent.— Frérot ? s'enquit Bolin.Mako resta silencieux plusieurs minutes. Depuis quand Korra et Asami étaient ensemble ? Pourquoi ne lui avaient-elles rien dit ? Était-il vraiment responsable ? Si elles étaient heureuses, ce n’était pas forcément si mal ?Il s’aventura à vocaliser ses pensées. Ce qu’il regretta aussitôt.— Moi, j’ai décidé que ce serait de ta faute.— De toute façon, tu n’avais aucune chance, grommela le policier.— Elles vont bien ensemble. Je pense que le fait d’avoir le cœur piétiné par le même type a dû les aider à se rapprocher, mais ça n’est pas que ça. Elles auraient pu se détester... Tu sais quoi ? Je veux même pas imaginer ces deux filles se détestant. Elles détruiraient Republic City en une après-midi !Parfois, Mako se demandait si Bolin faisait exprès de dire des trucs pareils. Après tout, ce n’était pas comme si des quartiers de la ville n’avaient pas encore fini d’être reconstruits.Mais bon, c’était Bolin et il ne pouvait pas vraiment lui en vouloir. Il avait probablement raison d’ailleurs. Korra avait appris à se maîtriser à essayer de réfléchir avant de casser la gueule aux gens mais elle restait Korra. Et Asami... Elle restait la fille d’Hiroshi Sato. Brillante et redoutable.Au bout de son énième verre, il compterait demain en pleurant sur la facture, Mako décida que c’était une bonne chose. Lui mieux que quiconque pouvait les comprendre, il n’avait jamais été capable de choisir et avait blessé les deux.Il adorait Korra et Asami et, si elles étaient heureuses, il ne pouvait que l’être lui aussi.
10083314	in a manner of speaking	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Keith (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron), Allura (Voltron)", "Fandom": "Voltron: Legendary Defender", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by hamartias", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-05T00:00:00", "words": "1,446", "Additional Tags": "The others mentioned, Not Really Character Death, Pining, Depression, Mild Suicidal Ideation, Nothing explicit, Canon Compliant, I mean it's gonna be jossed at some point, But until then, Hopeful Ending, Post-Season/Series 02", "Relationship": "Keith/Shiro (Voltron)", "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 first time Keith enters the Black Lion After, he barely makes it in time to the toilet, his knees cracking on the cold floor, his already empty stomach even emptier. * Sleep comes so fast these days, it scares him. He doesn’t dream. He doesn’t flinch. He carries only emptiness with him; absence. In the daytime, or what they call daytime in the vastness of space, he thinks about it. Is his body being cruel to himself or to Shiro? He can never make up his mind about it. Today, he is thankful and his fingers shake with shame. Today, he tries to beat the emptiness out of himself. Today, he can’t remember the curve of Shiro’s neck. His thoughts are scattered things, running, floating, soaring, but they always coalesce into a familiar shape day after day. I used to look for you in the stars, now I look for you in the dark, but you’re never there, never where you’re supposed to be. * For a while, the others leave him alone. He hears murmurs of ‘Grieving’, ‘In pain’, ‘In denial’, but the words don’t really mean anything to him. Perpetually. Continuously. He is and he wishes he wasn’t. Sometimes he gets…not angry, but something resembling it. He performs a parody of anger and he snaps and he cuts and he’s quite sick of himself. Keith doesn’t understand how the others do it. How they put up with it. How they can be so kind. But that’s it, isn’t it? His kindness never really belonged to him. So of course it went away when Shiro did. ‘Went away’ as if it was his choice, as if he packed his bags one day and threw a jaunty ‘See ya later’ over his shoulder and left. Keith wishes. He flings so many useless wishes in the spaces between the stars these days, he sometimes can’t recognize himself. But oh, he does. He wishes Shiro had had a choice. If he could ever give him anything in this infinite universe, it would be the power of choice. And yeah, he’d probably be sad for a while, but it would be okay. As long as he knew… Fuck the conditional. Fuck the wishes. They never did him any good. Keith always believed himself to be someone who, when presented with a lesson, he learned. That illusion is gone too now. Must be that masochistic streak Shiro always… He’s so tired. * The missions come and go and Keith is a constant. Sure, the others are too, but sometimes he forgets they’re real. Like he absorbed everything in sight and all that remains belongs to him, is him. He doesn’t tell them that, doesn’t think they’d appreciate it very much. He doesn’t try to go in again, but he often finds himself in front of the Black Lion. Like he’s keeping vigil and the Lion is a fucking shrine and he doesn’t let himself dwell much on that thought. 'It should be you.' His voice is scratchy and raw and it hurts in a very physical way. 'Nonsense. Shiro named you his heir. This is how it should be.' Keith doesn’t turn to look at her, but he thinks that if he did, her back would be steel and her eyes impossibly soft. His hands itch for a punch or maybe a hug. He wishes—no. He refuses to follow through this time. He only notices the metallic tang in his mouth long after she leaves. His gums are bleeding. * Shiro. Shiro Shiro ShiroShiroShiroShiro. The name starts to lose consistency. It feels fake in his mouth. But Shiro is real. Shiro means strong shoulders, quiet support, fleeting smiles. Shiro had always been relentless in his solidity. Keith won’t allow him to disintegrate. He will keep him safe under his tongue and even when he grows too sharp, he will swallow through the blood and the hairs and the dust and he will remember. * Keith is okay. Keith sleeps like the dead. Keith goes to the training room. Keith gets the shit beaten out of him. Keith practices flying in the Red Lion. Keith doesn’t talk back. Keith eats when Pidge tells him to. Keith forgets to say thank you. Keith doesn’t think of Shiro. Keith punishes himself when he forgets to think about Shiro. Keith doesn’t talk about it. Keith sleeps like he’s dead. Keith wakes up and remembers he isn’t. Keith is okay. * At first, Shiro was a thing Keith couldn’t look at directly. Like his eyes needed time to adjust to his light. And that was Shiro, burning brighter than anyone even when he wasn’t trying; especially when he wasn’t trying. He made you want to believe. Keith didn’t try very hard to resist. Shiro was his breathing room, his box of darkness. In Shiro, Keith allowed himself to be. Once, in their Garrison days, giggling with exhaustion after a day of simulations and exams, they sneaked out into the desert. The two of them and a scrounged up bottle of something incredibly green. On their backs in the red sand, Shiro lost in thought, always looking up even then, Keith looking at Shiro even then. He doesn’t remember now if it was an accident or a premeditated act on his part, but Keith touched Shiro’s face and left bioluminescent trails behind him. He looked at the half-empty bottle and did it again, just to make sure. Wherever they touched skin, they glowed in blues and greens, like they had swallowed fireflies. Every time Shiro laughed, his phosphorescent teeth would light up the world. Even when alive, Shiro made the prettiest star. He wonders what would have happened if he was braver. At the academy, in his childhood, after they found each other again. But he’s never been brave when it comes to himself. And these days, he’s so tired he feels dusty. * Keith has a theory. He’s almost positive that on Earth, he swallowed the desert. He feels like a sock puppet, trailing grains of sand behind him, always in danger of bursting. He’s thirsty all the time. Skinny little Keith Kogane used to be hungry all the time, but now he's thirsty, always so thirsty. When you think about it, they're not that different. There is a lacuna. Keith Kogane with holes through his palms and something sharp under his tongue. And Shiro nowhere to be seen. * The second time Keith enters the Black Lion After, he straps into the pilot seat. He looks straight ahead. He doesn’t touch anything else. Allura suggested and…she means well. ‘Come back,’ he whispers to the dust on the console, to the leather under his back, to his white fists. He leaves soon after. * ‘I’m sorry.’ * ‘Somehow I always seem to fuck it up.’ * ‘You-You’d say to stop being so damn self-involved and that I can’t fix everything, but I can’t help it, okay? I’m selfish and I want you to come back more than I want to save the fucking universe and if that makes me a horrible person, then fine. Fine.’ * The nth time Keith enters the Black Lion After, he falls asleep. And Shiro is there when he wakes up, pulling him to his feet, his hand warm, his breath on Keith’s cheek alive. Of course the first time he’d start dreaming again, it’d be so brutally real. But in the moment it takes him to see how the mauve light plays on Shiro’s face, he’s already decided. He will become a dream creature and burrow deep in this darkness that is very different from the darkness of space and he will stay here with Shiro, forever, in the wonderful curve of his neck. ‘You’re not a horrible person.’ ‘What?’ the reply is instinctual. His flesh stands to attention no matter the Shiro. ‘Keith,’ Shiro’s hands hold him in place, gingerly, as if he’s afraid that Keith is the one who will disappear, ‘I’m here and you’re not a horrible person.’ The pain of Shiro’s gaze is almost too much. But, masochistic streak and all that. He doesn’t stop looking at him. He regrets all those hours he didn’t speak, didn’t rehearse. His tongue is numb and his mouth is watering and he really fucking hopes he’s not going to puke right now. ‘I’m not dead. Just…stuck.’ Shiro’s laugh is awkward and croaky and lovely. Keith doesn’t care that he’s a dream. He hugs him, one hand on Shiro’s nape and wishes him into reality. ‘I’m going to get you out of here. I’m going to, you’ll see.’ Shiro slowly touches his forehead to Keith’s and in his eyes, there is only belief. * Keith is okay.
10072115	CL new mexico	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Darcy Lewis, James \"Bucky\" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Jane Foster (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), Bruce Banner, Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanova, Pepper Potts", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by scratches", "chapters": "3/10", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-04T00:00:00", "words": "5,414", "Additional Tags": "pizza dog - Freeform, Craigslist Missed Connections, Craigslist, Cute sweaters, Mostly Fluff, Harry Potter References, UST, Scientist Wrangler Darcy Lewis, BAMF Darcy Lewis, baker - Freeform, no one dies, Maybe i will finish this", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "James \"Bucky\" Barnes/Darcy Lewis, Jane Foster/Thor", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types, Ant-Man (Movies), Hawkeye (Comics)", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	CL< new mexico > albuquerque > personals> missed connections You handed me your dog -m4f- 98 Long shot but here it goes: A few years ago when Thor landed and crazy shit was going down, you were evacuating the area and stopped my car and gave me your dog. He has been looked after by a nice family. I know this is four years too late, but I am hoping you see this. I haven’t stopped thinking about you saving his life. Email me back with the name you named him. Here’s the thing, Darcy loved all things internet. She really liked to follow tumblr, instagram, twitter, facebook, reddit, and all the other alternate ways to acquire news other than from mainstream media. Everyone has things they do on the internet that they don’t want others to know. Jane checked xkcd on the regular. Thor watched sloth videos when he thought no one was looking. Tony browsed blown glass sculptures. Bruce searched for things with the word hamburger on EBay. Clint read Hunger Games fanfiction. Darcy, well, Darcy trolled Craigslist. It had been a hobby going on for eight years, and with all of the crazy of the last four, she looked at it to find free furniture, spare electronic parts for Jane, and with some hope, the missed connections section.Sure, she had posted in missed connections. The guy on the subway looking forlorn, the girl in the park playing with her kids, the obnoxious college kids at Buffalo Wild Wings that ruined Boneless Wing Night. In all the years she browsed, she was never the object of a missed connection. She wore bright lipstick, patterned tights, had a very one of a kind satchel, and was.. she was Darcy Fucking Lewis. She was memorable, dammit.Darcy was sitting in the confines of Stark Tower, watching Jane Science! when she decided to look at cities where she had been before. Seriously New York was huge, the missed connection section was over ten pages long (from just today), she didn’t have time to look through all of those, and the other more recent days.London, just as big as New York, skip.Norway. Nothing.Virginia. Nothing.D.C. Nothing.Asgard (hahahahaha, she wishes).New Mexico> Albuquerque>Darcy’s eyes widened in shock. Three pages back, almost a month now, there was a post about a dog. A dog she had passed off to a dark haired stranger minutes after she had found said dog cowering behind a dumpster. Darcy couldn’t let the dog perish in the chaos that was happening, she couldn’t. She had picked up the dog, cooed to him, and held his shaking body until the car stopped and she handed him off. “Holy fuuuuuuuuuuck.” She whipped her left hand out and pushed at Jane’s shoulder. “Jane. Jane! Jane!” She dragged out the last one for a few seconds until Jane whipped her hand out and held onto Darcy’s arm.“Darcy!” Jane replied without looking at her friend.“Jane,” she shook her friend’s arm and rocked her body, “I am a missed connection. Oh. Fuck. Dude.”Jane looked at her friend who was still staring at the page. “What?”Turning with wide eyes, Darcy said slowly, “I. am. a. missed. connection. Someone is trying to connect with me. They… They know where Baker is.”Jane’s brows knitted together and she asked, “The dog from New Mexico?”“The one and only.”Jane raised one brow up and asked, “Seriously?”“I can’t make this kind of stuff up, Jane!” Darcy’s voice was climbing, her breathing erratic. “Look!” She turned her laptop towards Jane and they both read over the words. Looking back at Darcy in disbelief, she asked plainly, “Are you going to reply?”“Am I going to reply?!” Darcy dropped her arm from her friend. “No! I mean, maybe. Why would I. I mean…. It’s not like.. I don’t know Jane!” She threw her hands up before pushing her chair back and swiveling in it. “What do you do in this situation?”Shrugging, Jane plainly said, “Reply.”Darcy narrowed her eyes from behind her glasses and asked, “Are you sure?”“You haven’t stopped thinking about getting a dog since that day, Darcy. Even when we were holed up in an Igloo in Norway, all you talked about was playing fetch in the snow with a dog you held for thirty seconds.” She pushed the laptop back towards Darcy’s desk, and said, “Just reply.” Scooting back towards the desk, she let her hands hover over the keys. “Seriously?”Jane moved back and stretched her arms up. “I’m going to go buy us some sandwiches at the place around the corner and grab us two coffees from Stark’s office. When I get back, you better have replied.” She stood and moved to the door.“You. Getting Lunch.” Darcy narrowed her eyes further and asked, “For real real?”“I’ll even get you the coffee with the chocolate nibs on top. I know where Stark hides them.” Jane said plainly.“Caramel sauce too?”“Do I look like an amature coffee gatherer? Actually don’t answer that. I’m getting us food and coffee and you are going to reply. You only have to reply one word, Darcy. It isn’t that hard.” Jane stood at the door and looked at her friend, “He probably knows if the dog is doing well. Maybe he even has a photo.” Jane shrugged and moved quietly out of the lab.“Fuuuuuuuuuuuck” Darcy let her head drop to the desk, chin resting on the edge as she stared at her laptop. It was only one word. She could do this. At the top of the page, she moved the cursor and let it hover over the reply button for a moment before she clicked it and her Stark Industries email popped up. “Either this or.. gmail.” She shrugged to herself, didn’t change the subject line and went straight to the body of the email. BakerBefore she could chicken out, she pressed the send button and the email whooshed and was sent with a ping. “What have I done.” She asked herself before covering her head with her hands and stayed in the position until she heard the lab door open and Tony’s laughter echoing through the room. “Jane, please tell me you didn’t.”“Of course she did, Miss Lewis.” Tony cackled before leaning against her desk.Jane dropped the bag of sandwiches on the space between their computers and sighed, “He wouldn’t tell me where he hid the caramel, Darcy, he asked why I was getting coffee and not you.” She rested her hand on Darcy’s shoulder and said, “It just slipped out, I’m sorry.”“I’m not.” He laughed again before looking at her computer screen and read the message on craigslist. “Seriously? This dude like, what?” He snorted and pointed at the screen, “He’s one of those kind of guys. He didn’t even put his real age, Lewis.” He laughed again when Darcy looked at him and groaned.“I’m never going to live this down, thanks Jane.” She sighed heavily before a loud ping was heard and they all turned to stare at the computer screen and the small message envelope that had popped up in the corner of the screen.“You going to open that, Lewis?” Tony asked before moving behind her and looking over her shoulder. “Not with you standing behind me reading it.” Darcy snapped.“Come on, Lewis, this is awesome. I am IRON MAN and I have never been missed connected. Let me live through you, just this once, I’ll give you a whole case of cocoa nibs for your own lab.”She looked over her shoulder and asked, “Caramel sauce too?”“Caramel sauce, and.. and.. Jane, what do you want?”Darcy looked over at Jane and she let a small smile creep over her features, “You wearing Thor Tshirts for the next month.”“That’s it?” He raised an eyebrow in her direction. “No repeats.” She crossed her arms over her chest and smirked.Darcy laughed and rolled her eyes at the both of them. “Cocoa nibs, caramel sauce, and Thor Tshirts. I think,” she paused and turned back to the screen, “it is a deal.” She put her hands on the cursor pad and moved the arrow to click the envelope and watched as a message popped up on the screen. From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Subject: RE: reply--You handed me your dog -m4f- 98 I didn’t know that this would have worked. Um. So yeah. Baker. That is his name. “That is lame with a capital L, Lewis.” Tony scoffed and sighed. “I have to wear Thor Shirts for a month for two lame lines.”“Should I reply?” Darcy looked between her two employers and had already clicked the reply button. “Seriously, what should I say?”Jane pushed her friend out of the way and started to type. From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Subject: RE: RE: reply--You handed me your dog -m4f- 98 Thank you for finding someone to look after Baker. I know I literally forced you to take him while a giant automoton was trying to flatten the town. I really hope it wasn’t a lot of trouble. I couldn’t let him sit behind the trash can and die. “Jane. That is kind of morbid.” Looking over at her friend she watched as she moved back to the keys and kept typing. “I haven’t stopped talking about him since I picked him up. I think it drives my best friend nuts.” Tony snorted again and said, “You and everyone in this building, Jane.”“I don’t know why she hasn’t gone out and adopted a dog since we moved in here, Tony. We aren’t planning on moving anytime soon.” Jane shrugged and pressed send before Darcy could stop her.“Jane! JANE! Why did you send that?” Darcy moved backwards and pushed Tony with her. “Because you never would have, Darcy!” She moved towards the sandwiches and pulled one out, “Pastrami all the way, just how you like it. Veggie wrap for me. Tony can have the chips.” She passed him a bag of Doritos and Tony caught them. “Fuck yeah, Doritos.”“I love Pastrami.” Darcy waddled her chair back towards Jane and hugged her around the middle. “Pastrami cures all of my woes, even if you gave my Doritos away.”Tony ripped the bag of Doritos open and was in the process of sticking his hand in when the computer pinged again. “Yo, this dude is hard up, Darce.” He pulled out an unbroken chip and shoved it into his mouth.Unwrapping her sandwich from the deli paper, Darcy looked at Tony and said, “I’m hard up, Tony.” She smiled widely before stuffing the sandwich into her mouth and taking a large bite.Jane pulled her wrap out of its paper and held it with her left before reaching past Darcy and clicking the envelope in the right hand corner of the desktop. “SCIENCE! can wait.” A small secretive smile blossomed across her face before she held the wrap to her lips and bit into it. From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Subject:RE: RE: RE: reply--You handed me your dog -m4f- 98 I won’t lie to you and say it was the weirdest thing that has happened to me, but it was definitely one of the more interesting parts. If it helps, he totally pissed all over my lap. (I mean, that might not help, but looking back it was kind of funny after everything that happened that day) I had someone I trusted take him. His family take wonderful care of them. I haven’t been back to New Mexico since that time. Baker actually isn’t even in New Mexico. I drove him to my friends in Colorado. He has dog brothers and sisters now. Last I heard he chased a mountain lion off of the property. He has moxie, that’s for sure. Tony paused in his reading and looked at the two girls, “The only person I know that uses moxie in everyday conversation is Steve Rogers. What a fucking fanboy.” He snorted and continued to read: I’m really glad you saw this and messaged back. Even though you only knew him for ten seconds, you looked like you cared for him for ten years. “This dude is smooth.” “Tony.” Darcy held her sandwich in one hand and grabbed for a Dorito with the other. “Stop interrupting. I’m being connected” Unfortunately, I can’t make the suggestion that I can get him back for you. My friend and his family have taken to Baker and I can’t see them giving him up. I attached a picture of him they sent me over the holidays I hope that doesn’t add fuel to the fire of you annoying your best friend. Jane choked on her veggie wrap and laughed. “It better not.”“Oh.. Oh my Thor.” Darcy grabbed at her laptop screen with her free hand and her face morphed and she started to coo at the screen. “Look at him. He is all grown up.. and the sweater! The sweater guys.” “I can buy you one so you can match.” Tony shoved a handful of Dorito crumbs into his mouth and talked around them, “This dude is pulling at your heartstrings, Lewis. He is buttering you up.”Darcy leaned back in her desk chair and said, “He can butter me all he wants. Fandral knows how...Thor.” She looked at Tony and smiled. “I haven’t even told you about him. Like, Baker, I remember him in my arms, and stuff being destroyed, but the dude that rolled up in the Mustang.” She held onto Tony’s arm and shook him.“Here she goes…” Jane said around her sandwich.“A ‘67 black Mustang with white racing stripes, you know, underneath all of the desert dirt and explosion dust.” She sighed and closed her eyes. “Freya must had a hand in sculpting this glorious creature. Dark and handsome, bet he was tall too.” She moaned a little and opened her eyes and held onto Tony a little tighter. “Tony. You. Don’t. Understand. How. Hot. He. Was. is? I don’t even know.”He pried her hand off of his arm and asked, “Darcy, how hot was he?”“Mother fucking Scortching hot.” She fanned herself before leaning forward and clicking reply and started to smash the keys rapidly. From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Subject: RE: RE:RE: RE: reply--You handed me your dog -m4f- 98 HDJFAHKTTJKNEEEDKJSHAGDU72664JFK You tease me with photos of Baker. They dress him in sweaters. I was going to dress him in sweaters. Especially now that I am in New York it wouldnt be animal abuse… you know because it gets too hot in New Mexico. My boss boss is looking over my shoulder, and I am pretty sure he is ordering me a matching moose sweater as I type this. Hahaha. Bestfriend thanks you already for adding fuel to the fire. She is sitting right next to me reading this. I mean, she is my boss to but not THE BOSS THE BOSS who is going to buy me sweaters. All of this was typed rapidly and Tony spoke to Jane, “Now I know why you keep her around.”Jane swallowed and smiled, “Darcy has a lot of talents and yes, she keeps me fed and clean, but girl knows how to work her way around a computer. What was your last word per limit, Darcy?”Darcy didn’t let up on the keys as she said “Hundred thirty seven for three hours. FRIDAY helped time me.” Seriously, thanks for the missed connection. Ive been fretting about him being safe or maybe back behind a dumpster. I am just glad he went somewhere good. COLORADO. I am imagining him jumping on a kids sled and sledding down a damn mountain now in that baller sweater. Thanks dude… break is probably almost over though. My boss and THE BOSSBOSS might start commenting even more than they already are. But feel free to send more Baker pictures if they send you more. I am really glad he went to a good home. She sent the message with a swoosh before sitting back and grabbing her sandwich. “Being missed connected is weird.” Darcy took a bite before the room turned to look at a machine on the other side that started to whir and beep enthusiastically. “Is that the THOR machine?” Tony asked.“Thermal Heli-Outerspace Resonator,” the two women said in unison before pushing their seats back and moving to the machine with haste.“Yeah, the THOR machine, so when should we expect him? Should i order another twelve hundred boxes of poptarts and columbian coffee?” Tony moved towards the machine and stood behind Darcy and Jane, looking at the green and yellow blinking lights.“These aren’t the big guy’s frequency.” Jane said before turning a dial.Straightforward and to the point, Tony asked, “Loki?”Darcy grabbed a pen and paper and said, “FRIDAY, archive the video from today so we can visually go over the findings.” She handed the paper to Jane and grabbed her tablet and started to hit keys. “This isn’t from Asgard, Tony. There are nine realms. This… well, let’s hope they are friendly?” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- After taking time and recalibrating the machine, weeks later, Jane and Darcy sat back at their desks and look at one another. They both have black grease across their faces as they both laughed. “I can’t believe we forgot to calibrate it to the sun, its solar flares, and Tony being Tony.” Jane shook her head before she said, “I shouldn’t have turned it on until we had looked it over multiple times.”Darcy picked and flicked a piece of dust off of her silver clad shoulder as she replied, “I mean, we had to turn it on at some point. You knew almost immediately what had happened, minus the Tony thing. Then Tony was able to help us with setting the frequency to only search for Thor’s until we could calibrate it to search for other anomalies.”There was a knock at the lab door. Darcy quirked her eyebrow at Jane. No one that frequently visited Jane’s personal lab usually knocked. Tony usually barged in and had FRIDAY cue up crappy cock rock that would make Darcy jump and Jane look up from her notes for a moment before going back to her work. They turned in tandem towards the door and watched as Steve Rogers walked in.“What can we do you for, Captain?” Darcy asked before quirking a brow in his direction.“Steve, please.” He stood stock straight and apologized for interrupting their work.Jane fidgeted in her seat before saying, “We are taking a break. You couldn’t have caught us at a better time.”“Just recalibrated the THOR machine.” Darcy fist pumped the air and swiveled in her chair before looking out behind Steve, please. Steve coughed and motioned behind him where a man stood at the edge of the door, back to the door frame, and looking down the hallway. “I’m just bringing Bucky ‘round and introducing him to vital members of the team.”Darcy snorted and queried “Vital..pshht,” before crossing her arms closer to her chest. She had worn her Winter Soldier styled shirt today not expecting to run into the actual Winter Soldier . “James.” The word was muttered from where he stood and Darcy side eyed Jane before the man turned to look into the room.“Well, I can speak for Darcy here,” Jane enunciated clearly, “that we are glad you’re finally with the team.”“Thor told us all about The Man With The Iron Arm Who Is A Worthy Opponent.” She watched as Steve shook his head in his hand and she caught his eye, her impression was spot on as she projected her voice across the lab. It might have been her imagination, but she thought she saw the corners of James’ lips turn up in a small smirk before he turned back to face the wall.“Regardless, unless we are…. Well, actually, we always have an open door policy, as long as you don’t touch the equipment… or my notes.. actually.” Jane turned to her desk, grabbed a piece of paper and started scribbling across the paper. “Sorry, just… something about the recalibration.”Steve motioned towards Jane and asked Darcy, “Jane do this often?”Darcy turned and looked over Jane’s shoulder before replying, “Daily.” Darcy turned back around and shrugged. “She will probably be like this for the next few hours.”“Science waits for no woman,” Jane stated before turning a page and scrawling across it before moving to the Stark Board wall that FRIDAY automatically scanned as she scrawled across it so no notes were lost in the melee of her brain function. “Sometimes it just,” Jane tapped her cheek with her marker and paused before continuing slowly, “smacks you in the head.”Everyone watched in silence as Jane scrawled equations across the board followed by names of star systems and coordinates for a few minutes. Shrugging and moving back to her own desk, Darcy wiped a greasy hand across her forehead and gestured to her boss/friend/wacky scientist as she said, “Really, she will be at this for hours, there is a ninety percent chance that she has forgotten that we are watching her.” She stretched her arms above her head and noticed James watching her from the corner of his eye as the red, black, and silver shirt stretched across her shoulders and chest. WELP, there went Darcy pretending that he wouldn't notice her Winter Soldier shirt.Tidying her desk, she moved different mechanical parts to a drawer and shuffled papers to a neat pile to one side as Steve said, “I’ve seen Tony on science binges, and Bruce, but I haven't been privy to Miss Foster succumbing to the call.” Darcy guffawed and he continued, “It’s definitely a sight to be seen.” All three of them looked over as Jane scraped a step stool across the workspace and started scribbling across the top of the board in a lurid, violent orange marker.“I'm so used to it, I don't even notice anymore.” Darcy laughed and moved toward Steve and the door. “We missed lunch recalibrating the machine, so I’m going to go make some lunch down in the commons, maybe make some coffee, Tony finally replaced the espresso machine he blew up last week.” She grinned at Steve who shook his head.Turning and moving behind Darcy as she exited the room, Steve said, “He needs a sitter sometimes, I swear.”Laughing over her shoulder, Darcy said, “He won't tell me how he managed it this time.” She shrugged before sticking her hand out and looking James up and down. She took in his form fitting jeans, black v-neck, and thick, worn in leather jacket. Man could definitely pull off the Reble Without A Cause look without even trying. He grasped her small greased hand with his and she gave it a squeeze and a shake. Grinning wide, she said easily, “It was nice to meet you, James .” Dropping his hand, she met his blue steely gaze before continuing, “Honestly, stop in whenever. We keep strange hours, and unless we are taking space measurements upstate, we are around.”Reaching out to her, he wiped her forehead, rubbing the majority of the grease off before Steve clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re a mess,” he stated before meeting her eyes again, “‘preciate the invite.” “Anytime.” Darcy flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Well, lunch, coffee, maybe a shower. I’ll see you boys later.” She missed Steve nudging James with his shoulder and their gazes watching her move down the hall and the conversation both of them quickly had under their breaths. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Barnes, Darcy noticed, seemed to always be in her periphery after the introduction. Sure, there were days where Darcy and Jane were upstate taking measurements or the ones where Steve, please, James, and Sam Wilson went to D.C. with a fleet of lawyers to deal with politics and to participate in Veterans Affairs groups, but most of the time he hovered around the tower. Not even just around her, Jane, Clint (when he is around), Tony, and surprisingly Pepper. More than once she had gone to the CEO of Stark Industries to drop off hard copies of requisition forms or plans for SCIENCE! and Darcy had seen James standing in the corner of the lobby assessing the goings on of the tower. When asked what was up, Pepper looked up from her desk with a smile and just said, “He feels better when he knows we are all safe.”“Huh.” Darcy said before she grabbed the Stark pad from Pepper and made sure all the tabs were signed off before she exited the room.Her head was bent over the electronic as she moved back towards the elevator. Darcy stood in the elevator, scrolling through a PDF file of Jane’s notes when a cough came from her right. The doors closed and the elevator started to move down towards the floor where the labs were before she looked up and side eyed her elevator companion. A dark, thick eyebrow rose high behind her styled fringe before she asked him, “Sup, Barnes, James Barnes?” She was trying to keep her face neutral as he looked at her leaning against the elevator and her fingers still moving across the Stark Pad.His face rapidly moved through emotions before he, too, settled on neutral. Leaning himself back against the wall, he crossed his arms and lifted a brow back at her. “Nothing.” His head shifted to look the other way and Darcy was positive it was because the apples of his cheeks were flushed and he really was trying not to smile.“If you say so, Barnes.” She let her eyes linger and travel down his jawline, his throat, across his shoulders, and before she could arrive anywhere inappropriate, she glanced back down at the PDF with a smile on her face.They rode the elevator down in silence with smiles on their faces until the elevator stopped at the Lab floors and opened. “See ya, Barnesie.” Darcy said with a wave over her shoulder as the doors opened the rest of the way.There was a clink of metal against metal about six steps down the hallway when she heard, “James.” Darcy looked over her shoulder and smiled as Barnes leaned against the door with his cybernetic arm and said clearly, “Name’s James, I’d like it if you.. you used it.” She turned completely around. She started to walk backwards before she asked, “Yeah?” Her eyebrows rose up again and bright lips pulled back into a smile. “You’d like that, wouldn't you?” There were definite flirting and lascivious undertones in her speech.His cheeks flamed bright as she watched. “Yeah, ‘think I would.” James cleared his throat and gruffly added, “You used it...before...in the lab.”Just before she had to turn a corner to move towards Bruce’s lab, she paused. Darcy bit her bottom lip and finally said, “Yup.”There was a snort from the elevator before he released his grip. “That’s it?”“Bye, Barnes.” She wiggled her brows as she watched the doors close on his grinning face.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Darcy jumped over the couch the moment she heard the barking. It wasn't often that Clint brought Lucky, his one eyed golden retriever, to the tower, but when he did, Darcy was sure to spend as much available time to smoosh, cuddle, and spoil him that Clint allowed her. “Pizza Dog!” It came out more as, Peet-za Daaawg , while she tripped over the hem of her pants and skidded to a stop in front of the dog, who wagged his tail a mile-a-minute.“Aw dude, look at you!” She reached out her hand and scratched him behind the ears and kissed him on top of his head. Lucky barked before he jumped up and rested his large paws on her shoulders. “You’re so floofy and cute, dude!”“Floofy?” She turned to Clint who stood there with a grin that matched her own. Darcy pushed Lucky off of her shoulders, but continued to pet him down his back as she said, “Floofy, man, don’t dis the vernacular.” His fur was soft and felt clean. Clint must have recently brought him to the groomers. “You’re such a pretty boy, yes you are!” Darcy wiggled his ears back and forth a few more times before she addressed her friend. “You don’t usually bring Lucky with you to the tower. I heard he is very protective of baby Nat.”“Sit, Pizza Dog.” The capitalization on Lucky’s nickname can be heard when Clint addressed his dog. Lucky sat quickly, his tail wagged on the floor, it swished back and forth before it calmed to an intermittent thump. “He is here for a mission, believe it or not.”Darcy leaned back and laughed. “Pizza dog, on a mission?” She laughed loudly. Lucky barked at her. “What, ya’ll need him to track down the Tracksuit Mafia or something?” Clint’s eyebrow rose and his rugged face morphed. His lips pressed into a thin line. Her hands rose and she defended herself when she replied, “I cannot be held responsible for the files I may or may not have found after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell.” His brow rose higher. “Or the files I may or maynot have stumbled across recently.” Clint cleared his throat and Darcy threw her hands up. “Jeeze Clint. Okay so maybe Stark told me I wouldn't be able to hack open cases and I saw something with…” She narrowed her eyes at her friend and stopped. “You don’t need to know, actually.”Clint let a huff of laughter escape before he moved into the room towards the couches Darcy was previously sitting on. “You need to stay out of those files.” Darcy jumped over the back of the couch and fell back into her spot that she had carved out in the corner of the L shaped couch. Lucky stepped onto the cushions and snuggled into her side a moment later. “It is just too easy sometimes?” She buried her hand in the dog’s fur and continued to pet him. There was a definite lack of animals at the tower, and for someone who grew up with more animals than siblings, Darcy missed them.“Stay out of the files, kid.” Clint sat on the couch and looked at her. “Have you seen Cap around today?”She shook her head and said, “He’s probably down in the simulation room, or in Hill’s office getting briefed.” Darcy laughed and commented, “If not there, Barnes is probably wiping the floor with him in the gym.”He coughed and asked, “What?”“Yeah man,” she reached towards the coffee table, grabbed a handful of popcorn, and continued, “Barnes wipes the floor with him when they spar, mano y mano. No shields, and James’ arm programmed to regular super soldier strength.” Darcy put the popcorn in her mouth and Lucky whined for some of her snack. His hand buried itself into Lucky’s fur and he asked, “And how do you know this?”“Stark monitors my internet usage. No PornHub for me, need to get spank bank material somewhere,” Darcy said offhandedly.“I’m not sure if you’re joking or not.” Clint laughed and ran his hand against Lucky’s withers. “But I will take your word for it.”She tossed a piece of popcorn at Lucky who caught it with a snap of his mouth before he whined for more. “Yeah, seriously, it is glorious to watch.” One more piece of popcorn was tossed and caught. “How long do I get to hang with Lucky before he becomes SpecOps?”Reaching up, Clint stretched a kink out of his shoulders and said, “They needed him for tonight, but I’m sure after the Op he could stay for a few days, eat a few pizzas, piss on Stark’s rugs.”Lucky looked over his shoulder at his handler and barked. “Yeah dude,” Darcy tossed more popcorn at Lucky, “the pee was an accident.” Lucky barked again before he hid his head against Darcy’s side. “That we are blaming Jane for because SCIENCE happened and Erik misplaced his pants.”
10018436	Red String snippets and	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Harry Potter, Adult Reborn", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by LadyHallen", "chapters": "12/12", "completed": "2021-01-12", "published": "2017-02-28T00:00:00", "words": "16,027", "Additional Tags": "Do not repost, Don't copy to another site, Genderbend, au's, Snippets, random one-shots, Female Harry Potter", "Relationship": "Harry Potter/Reborn", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Mafia and Magic", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Hyacinth was just opening her store when she encounters smoke.It wafts out from under the door cracks and blows into her face uncomfortably. It smells like burning wood smoke.With some alarm, she palms her wand and shoves the door open.She hits something with a dull thud!“What on earth?” she asks out loud.She was unprepared for another voice to say, “Do you mind?” Hyacinth jumps.“Err?” she says nervously.“I’m trying to sleep here,” the voice continues. “Do stop bumping me around. It’s hardly comfortable.”Hyacinth edges around the door crack and comes face to face with an eye that’s the size of her head. It’s surrounded by light, opalescent yellow scales.“Sorry,” Hyacinth manages in the face of what was obviously was a grouchy dragon. “But this is my shop. And I’m opening today. I need to open the door.” She’s proud of herself for not squeaking or screaming.The dragon sighs. “And I suppose you want me to go away now…” he mumbles.There’s something forlorn and desolate in the dragon’s tone that resonates with Hyacinth. Before she can think about it, she places a hand below his eye to stop him from squirming around to leave.“Stop it,” she says sharply. “I want to move you and you can go back sleeping.”The dragon gives the impression of quirking an eyebrow. It detracts from the sheer relief that crosses his face.“And how do you want to go about that?”Hyacinth raises her wand. “Do you mind being smaller?”The dragon doesn’t answer, probably from the astonishment at the idea. Hyacinth usually wouldn’t offer, but the Elder Wand was good for some impossible spell-casting. Occasionally.She starts to cast Reducio, lessening the size of the Antipodean Opaleye dragon to something resembling a very large cat. She fetches a pillow from her stockroom and carefully levitates the dragon on top of it. The dragon purrs at the touch of the pillow, further solidifying the image of a feline in her mind.“Oh, this is lovely,” the dragon sighs, rolling around the pillow. “Simply beautiful. I didn’t know wizards could enchant my kind. I thought you were simply too inept to manage it.”Hyacinth doesn’t bristle, too used to dealing with purebloods who all spoke to her that way.“You’ll find that I’m probably the only one of my kind who can do this,” Hyacinth says dryly. “And I didn’t even know dragons talked.”She puts the purring dragon out of her mind – or as much as a witch can put a firebreathing lizard inside a bookstore out of her mind and starts cleaning the dirt brought in by a sleepy dragon. It is mainly ash and earth, some clumps of flesh that she would determinedly not think about and dust.By the time Hyacinth has a breath, the store is already accepting customers and she gets her first order of butterbeer. She doesn’t notice until it’s too late but every witch and wizard who comes to her counter to order a drink or ask for the location of a book pauses at the sight of the miniaturized dragon snoozing by the cash register.“I like this admiration,” the dragon mumbles when she takes a break with a cup of hot chocolate and some biscuits. “No fleeing in terror. I will invite my kin.”Hyacinth looks up from her sugar haze with some alarm.“What?” she hisses, remembering not to shout at the last minute. It resembles a strangled squeak. “Don’t you dare. I can’t take care of all of you. There are animal clauses in place for this!”The dragon rears up his head. He still manages to make it look legal despite his size. Really like a cat.“Did you just qualify me as an animal?” he growls. It rumbles deep in his little chest and makes her hot chocolate shake. “I am a dragon, witch. I am fire and death incarnate. We are the lords of the sky and the makers of the first flame.”Hyacinth wants to put her head in her hands. “Yes, I know you are!” she says. “And I really respect your kind. I nearly got killed when I was fourteen by a nesting mother dragon. But I’m not the one who makes these laws. Your kind gets put in Dragon Reserves to keep you alive. Because you were being hunted to nearly extinction decades ago.”He subsides irritably. “Hmph, those laws have nothing to do with me. My kin are already coming.”With that, he rests his hands on his claws and starts snoring, delicate spirals of smoke being emitted from his nose in a weird parody of a snore.“Merlin’s arse,” she curses.Then she looks up and finds that every customer in her book café is staring.“Uhm,” she starts nervously. “Sorry for the interruption.”An interested wizard leans over his table, curiosity alight in his face. “Is that an animated dragon doll? He’s fairly accurate isn’t he? But shame you made him talk. I would have liked one for my niece.”Hyacinth wants to cringe. She’d found that wizards never really wanted anything to start talking. Because talking implied sentience. Sentience alluded to intelligence. Intelligence usually demanded rights. Just look at what they did to the poor Centaurs and the house-elves.Luckily, the dragon did not take offence. He just opens one eye and gave her a look. It says, There’s your solution. I’ll play along.It isn’t reassuring. Not in the least bit reassuring.. When the dragon said kin, he hadn’t mentioned how many.The part of her that would forever be a Slytherin applauded. The Gryffindor bits cried. Almost fifteen dragons of varying sizes were in her backyard. Thank Rowena for Grimmauld’s place charms. The automatic expansion charm was Merlin sent. If it hadn’t existed, they would have flattened a good part of London.“Merlin’s arse!” she muttered.The dragon, curled up around her neck like a scarf, purred in greeting.“Welcome to our new home,” the dragon greets them. “This is our witch.”Hyacinth wants to cry. She settles for laughing instead. If it sounded a tad bit hysterical, nobody mentions it.“Reborn,” one of the dragons says, a large one that had a lovely light orange pattern on her scales. “What have you done now? The flock won’t just roost…what on earth have you done to yourself?!”Hyacinth finds herself in the unfortunate situation of being under the scrutiny of fifteen grown dragons. Her hand is clenched white around her wand and she shakes.“Stop that,” the dragon – Reborn – snarls. “This is my witch. She can reduce our size. These small creatures have this glorious invention called a pillow.”It’s a credit to Hyacinth’s bravery – if not exactly her intelligence – when she meets their eyes squarely and defiantly.“What an adorable little animal,” a smaller purple one remarked. “I shall try this myself.”Given permission and comforted with Reborn’s purring at her throat, Hyacinth raises her wand and does not flinch when every dragon hisses at the sight of it. Determinedly, she casts a Reducio on the purple dragon and makes it a bit smaller than Reborn, proportionate to what Hyacinth remembered their sizes to be.“Now,” the purple dragon says, tone demanding. “Where is this … ‘pillow’?”Within the hour, every dragon is reduced in size and lounging on their own pillows under the sunlight. Only two had elected to share one and they were amethyst colored dragons that looked nearly alike. Almost like twins.Hyacinth learns all their names in the course of changing their sizes.“You can call me Verde, witch,” a green dragon had announced like a lord bestowing a favor. “And make my size bigger than Reborn’s.”Reborn had hissed a challenge at that but given that Verde had been infinitely bigger than Reborn just then, Hyacinth had complied.“I am Luce,” the one who had scolded Reborn had said. “And I am sure you will give me a size that is wonderful.”In hindsight, that absolute faith in her abilities had been worse than any demands.Skull was the purple and almost perpetually sad dragon that did not make any demands at all. Viper is the third amethyst colored dragon that is bigger than the twins, strange triangular marks on her scales. Fon, one of the few Chinese Fireball’s in the herd, had been as red as the miniature she had seen in Viktor Krum’s palm.Collonello, a name that had made her choke back laughter, was a light blue she had seen in purebred Antipodean Opaleye, asked for nearly the same as Viper.Kyoya, the first one to volunteer to a change, had also been a Chinese Fireball, but the purple color indicated a mixed breed. The twins were Mukuro and Chrome, names that had twisted Hyacinth’s tongue, but not as much as Tsunayoshi.“Call me Tsuna,” the easy going orange dragon had offered. His eyes, a lovely shade of amber, gleamed with good humor. “I have no idea what my mother was thinking, naming me that.”An energetic yellow dragon by the name of Ryohei had reminded Hyacinth so much of a Labrador that she had almost made him larger than the rest. The thought of dealing with Reborn’s offended hissing had her shrinking him almost to the same size as the rest.A red and blue dragon, a really strange mixture that announced how mixed the dragon’s blood was, had asked to be called Hayato. His very nature reminded her of a cat and if she shrunk him smaller than Reborn, which was a complete accident. The last one to be changed, a blue dragon that had some spiked scales from a Norwegian Ridgeback and the opalescent color that was prevalent to the rest of the herds breed, announced his name to be Takeshi.. Hyacinth learns a lot of things about her houseguests.One, they weren’t cats. Though they loved napping in sunshine, they loved baths even more. She had never met a cat who liked water.Two, bread was bad for dragons. She’d accidentally given Tsuna indigestion and the rest of the herd nearly killed her for it.Three, herding them all to work was worse than dealing with toddlers.Toddlers couldn’t fly.Toddlers couldn’t breath fire if you squeezed too hard by accident.Toddlers didn’t argue with logic on why they couldn’t have ice cream.By the end of the week, Hyacinth found herself fired from work.The dragons all found her in the kitchen, crying.Initially, there had been a cacophony at her tears but Reborn beat them all into submission with angry glares and hisses.“What’s wrong?” Yuni asks.She wipes away the wet trails with determination but it’s a futile thing when she drops fresh tears every blink.“I’m fired from work because apparently, “enchanted dragon plushies aren’t conducive to the reading environment.”While Reborn had agreed to no contest being an enchanted dragon plushie, the rest certainly hadn’t. They all looked at Reborn with revulsion.“Why do you not start your own business?” Reborn asks. His tail is lashing back and forth agitatedly and his leathery wings, large even in his small size, is whipping up a storm. “From what I have seen of your nest, you are certainly affluent enough to start your own.”The sudden inquisition stems her tears, if only due to surprise. The dragons certainly never expressed interest in her life before. It had always been demands for more fish or more pillows.“The house is an inheritance,” she explains, and then goes on to elucidate what an inheritance was to dragons who certainly lived forever and who fought over hoards. “My godfather left it to me. My parents left me a lump of gold, but I had to give it to the goblins to pay for repairs after I broke out a dragon in captivity in their bank last year. So, despite how large the house is, I have nothing to buy things with.”A couple of the dragons exchange shifty looks at that announcement.“Hmm,” Verde rumbles at the side. His tail is tucked under his claws and his wings are folded neatly at his back. Hyacinth will forever equate him to a Persian Cat. “It seems to me, witch, that your problems can be solved with some monetary…lending.”Viper jumps up like something burned at the word.“Lending?” she asks, ignoring the amethyst dragon making a ruckus. After the week she’d had, dragons in a snit really weren’t impressive.“We are dragons,” Fon explains. “Even the younger ones have quite a hoard amassed. We shall lend you some and we will give you something in recompense for … putting up with us.”Hyacinth wants to protest. She actually did protest. “We’re friends,” she says, looking around the dragons ringing her and the younger dragons playing tag overhead. “You don’t pay friends for staying with you.”Luce noses her hands. “No, you don’t,” she agrees. “But we can help a friend out.”Hyacinth bursts into tears again.. She calls her Book Café “Dragon Nest”.It’s a small, quaint thing that served original, dragon themed drinks that none of the wizards had ever seen before.Firewhisky and butterbeer are still served, but Hyacinth also gave out Dragon Breath and spicy platters of Dragon’s Fire.Her reduced guests had learned their lesson at making too much noise but Hyacinth still had to partition a space in her café she called, “Dragon’s Play Area,” where it’s soundproofed and fireproofed. Any dragon itching for some chaos would go there and play.It becomes something of an attraction in her café, to watch the reduced dragons play and wreak havoc to the miniature obstacle course she added.Everyone still thinks they’re dragon plushies, but of course a dragon tamer would notice. Charlie would notice.. “They’re not just enchanted objects, are they?” he asks her. His blue eyes sparkle with interest as he watches the dragons play Quidditch in their Play Area.She is wary but since this is Charlie, she concedes the point. She can’t ever fool a Weasley. They knew her too well.“No, they’re not,” she sighs. She sits opposite his table and he shoves aside his book on dragon lore. Reborn, who seemingly never left her side when she worked, let out a threatening rumble.“That’s impossible,” Charlie breathes, looking at Reborn with awe. “It’s impossible for magic to affect Dragons directly. They’re nulls, Hyacinth.”She shrugs and procures the Elder Wand, putting it on the table. Any wizard worth their salt would recognize it.“That’s…isn’t that Dumbledore’s wand?” he asks.Hyacinth nods. “And it’s Grindelwald’s too. He took it from Gregorovitch the Wand Maker.”Charlie is not labelled a genius for nothing. “The Elder Wand?”He shakes the awe away quickly, immediately looking at Reborn again. The vain dragon starts to preen.“Can I touch him?” he asks. He realizes his error and looks at Reborn in the eye. “May I touch you?”Reborn concedes to this and flies over. Hyacinth lets out the breath she is holding when Reborn holds himself obediently still.“What have you been feeding them?” he asks.Hyacinth is decidedly not an expert in dragon care and accepts advice from the dragon expert.“Fish. Mainly fish. They don’t like cooked food. And I almost killed one of them with bread.”He laughs at her. “Ground pork and mix it with eggs,” he suggests. “Any protein, really. They burn through it quickly, judging by how much they play.”“Thanks, Charlie,” she says, unaware of the burden she had carried regarding the health of her dragon friends until Charlie came along. “Thanks so much. I wasn’t even sure if they’re the proper weight or something. There’s no books about their kind!”“Mixed breeds,” he says knowingly. “They get pushed out of their herds more often than not. I would save them, but where would they go?”By the gleam in his eyes as he looked at her, he knew exactly where they would go.“Oh no!” she exclaims, standing up. “I am not! I will not!”Charlie laughs, pays his tab and leaves. Hyacinth did not believe for one second that he changed his mind.“You tempted fate,” Reborn says, finally speaking. He only ever really spoke when they were alone. “You really tempted fate, naming your business Dragon Nest.”She knows that, Merlin dammit! ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Harry met the eyes of a constant customer and mustered up a smile.“The usual, sir?” she asked.The man nodded absently, already handing over the bill. She rang up the purchase and queued it. Lavander snagged it another heartbeat, machines whirring up a storm behind her. The priority number handle was pushed to his hands and he walked away. Harry entertained the image of him tripping over a chair and immediately felt better.“Can I have a chocolate cake?” a bubbly little girl asked, tiptoeing to meet her eyes.Harry steeled herself from having her heart melt. She’d learned enough from working in retail that it’s usually the sweet and adorable ones that had the insane demands.“We have a kiddie size, miss,” she said. “Though I do think you can deal with the adult slice.”The kid scrunched up her nose and ordered an adult slice, tottering away and gingerly holding on to the plate. Harry held back a wince when she imagined the kid skidding on the flooring and planting her face on the cake, breaking the plate. Service charge or not, plate breaking made for a bad atmosphere.Another one, by Merlin a teenager, asked for a Triple Chocolate Frosty with an extra helping of Whipped Cream. The boy asked if it was possible to add in smores on top of the thing.“That would be another twenty,” she said, holding back her incredulity at the sheer amount of sugar in the thing.The kid dug in his bag for spare change.Just as she finally had a breather, the mother of the cute bubbly little girl scolds her for ruining her diet because she had apparently enabled the kid to get high on sugar.No, scolding was too nice. That was outright banshee screeching.Harry bore through this, holding a professionally crafted mask of sadness and regret (she practiced this for a week before she could hold it through anything.), all the while imagining throwing a cup of scalding hot water on her face. It makes her feel immensely better.When the rush hour finally tapered off, the door opened and in walked Harry’s favorite customer.She didn’t know his name, he just said, “Mr. R.” and asked for an espresso. It was always an espresso, nothing else. No cupcakes, no muffins, no cookies, no nothing.She adored him for the simplicity of it and that he had the common sense not to come in a coffee shop during rush hour and expect service that wasn’t rushed, or perfunctory.“An espresso, please,” he said before she could open her mouth.And there was his voice. Aside from his ridiculous side-burns that were really eye-catching, his voice made her knees weak. Deep, pleasant and it rolled off his mouth like honey. (Harry never thought that working in retail would ever leave her with some poetry, but this man brought it out.)Mainly though, aside from everything else, she really really loved how he made up his mind on what he wanted and how much practicality he had.“Of course, sir,” she said, ringing up his order and not even bothering to ask if he wanted anything else.There’s no rush, he just loiters by the display case and she hands him the paper cup, covertly studying his profile. He had the classic Italian face and he really was unfairly handsome.“Until next time, Harry,” he said, rubbing a thumb on her fingers. She almost dropped the cup and he smirked, strolling out.Lavander budges her hip with and stares with her.“Did he just…”“Yeah.”“That was hot,” Lavander concluded. “Very subtle, but hot. You ought to write your number on the receipt, the next time he comes around. And ask his name again.”Harry doesn’t want think she would dare. She had seen one woman hit on him before and be rebuffed so completely that the woman had been absolutely mortified.“Nope,” Harry said. “Let’s see first. I think it’s really unfair that he’s that handsome though. You’d think someone that suave would at least have a hairy mole somewhere.”Lavander snorted a laugh but returned to her station when another customer came. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It started with little cracks, little things that shored away the foundations of their otherwise firm relationship.Hyacinth’s flinches when he comes home injured, or Reborn’s temper when she shies away from him in terror in her nightmares, stiff from remembered fear. They try, oh how they try, mostly for each other’s sake than for anything else, because Reborn recognizes contentment when he feels it and he knows how dependent she is of his strength.But the cracks spread and it all crashes down when Reborn wakes up.He had spent most of the night under the throes of complete and utter exhaustion, mostly due to blood loss and hands shaking, pale and cold due to the horrors he had witnessed.He wakes up, and he sees the spot in the bed where Hyacinth usually lay, cold and empty. He doesn’t have to look far to find her, she is in a chair beside the bed, arms around herself and looking….fragile.“Tesoro,” he murmurs, half-asleep still.Hyacinth flinches for a moment, before her face turns cold and her eyes look like carved emeralds - unfeeling and distant.“I can’t do this anymore, Reborn,” she whispers through bloodless lips.And the words don’t register through his mind. Dread pools in his gut, his spine feels unnaturally stiff. He is aware his Flames are climbing up and sparking in his eyes, but she has all his attention.“…what?”Hyacinth closes her eyes, looking away. “I…I can’t. You come back, blood soaked and pale…and I wonder when you’ll stop breathing at night, if I’ll wake up to your corpse. If…If you won’t come back at all, and one of your friends will just send over a letter.”His mind, his usually sharp mind, is closed off and numb. He allows things to go on auto-pilot. He can’t think of anything to answer her, because everything she says is true. He is slowly torturing her and he didn’t even know it, because he held on to her, even if it was hurting both of them.“I’m sorry,” he manages. “I’ll leave today.”She chokes back a sob. “Reborn,” and it is a plea, though he didn’t know what for. He slams his shields on, because leaving himself bare and vulnerable in front of the one person he thought he could be vulnerable with makes him feel raw and bloody. He thinks about being in front of a dozen enemies with their sights on him, and he just…shuts down.He gets up and tries to ignore the high keening wail of someone who did not want to cry.He would break later. Once he wasn’t in enemy territory, he would break. But for now, he would empty the place of his presence, and he would leave.“Reborn,” she whispers. “I’m sorry.”The door shut gently and suddenly, it occurs to Hyacinth. She’s alone now. No one to hold her, or make her laugh. Mippy appears by her side in worried frenzy, but Hyacinth can’t note that. She crumples by the bed and wails, cursing herself for being so weak as to be unable to bear his occupation, to be unable to support him as he supported her.She calls herself weak, and pushes back her tears but she only succeeds in breaking her wails and go on to gasping sobs. It leaves her weak and with a headache. Mippy smooths her long, spindly fingers over her forehead, the cool digits helping a little.“He won’t come back, Mippy,” she whispers. “I’ve pushed away the man I love.”Reborn doesn’t cry. He pushes everything back with a shuddering breath, walling everything out and stomping down on it, just like everything else good in his life that had been taken away.He didn’t deserve her, he thinks. He is better than her. He thinks of apple cider and warm cookies served on a rainy day and does not flinch. He pushes the memory away and chains it to the depths of his soul. He remembers a mischievous smile and buries that under mountains of bitter feeling.Things had been going so well, he half-expected it to go to hell. And it did. Aside from Tsunayoshi, nothing good ever stayed good for him. Only the Vongola had stayed.He closes his eyes and doesn’t cry. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Reborn greets the new day with a scowl.The storm last night had lasted well into midnight, almost dawn. It had tapered off very recently and Reborn curses his sensitive ears. Every bang of the shutters against the window had woken him up. Eventually, he’d given it up as futile and he’d just played Angry Birds on his phone. (The physics of it amused him and he adored being sadistically awful as he smashed birds on pigs.)The pained whine that he hears makes him still as he attempts to wrestle with breakfast.“Cazzo,” he mutters irritably. No breakfast, no coffee and no sleep. Was it any wonder he wanted to murder something? Granted, he’d done longer sleep-deprived binges while working on his thesis but he is supposed to be on vacation.He follows the sound to the pool area and stops dead in his tracks.There, by the shallow stone steps of the pool, is a mermaid.He rubs his eyes a couple of times just to make sure and the mermaid is still there. Another pained whine escapes her mouth and he snaps out of his haze, hurrying toward her and snagging a couple of towels from the rack – it’s a miracle it hadn’t been blown away from the storm.“Hey,” he says softly, remembering Squalo’s lessons about approaching injured animals and some such. “Let me take a look at that.”Her look of terror is heartbreaking but he ignores that in favor of touching her tail, a broken branch speared through the delicate fins at the ends. He wants to swear because he is most definitely not a veterinarian. It had been stupid to hope that it had been the human half that had the injury anyway.“Shh,” he says, putting a hand around her and wrapping the towel around her shoulders. With his other hand, he dials Squalo.Like the doctor that he is, though his bedside manner is atrocious – not that his animal patients need it – Squalo answers promptly.“Fucking shit,” the snarls come across the phone lines. “I’ve got zero sleep, what the fuck do you want, Reborn?”He is immune to the threats. After spending one semester with Luce and Lal, Squalo is almost tame.“How do you deal with a branch stuck through a fin,” he asks promptly. If left to stew, Squalo would get worse. And besides, the mermaids green eyes are now flooding with tears of betrayal, presumably about the lack of action about her fins.“See if you can sew it up after you take the branch out,” is the immediate reply. “If not, bind it tightly enough to staunch the blood flow. Shit, why the fuck are you asking me this?”Reborn looks at the fin and notes that yes, he can stitch that. The branch was a small one, thin enough to be sword-like.“I have a new pet goldfish,” is his immediate rejoinder. “Last question, what do fish eat if I don’t have fish food?”“What the fuck is there in the wild? Fucking worms, rats, grasshoppers and other shit,” Squalo is sounding exasperated. Reborn can tell through the cursing. “Reborn, answer the fucking question.”Just to be an asshole, Reborn says, “Thanks a lot, Squalo!”He cuts the line off just in time to hear the cursing.The mermaid still hadn’t moved except to grasp at his shirt and tug at it experimentally.“Let’s take care of you,” he says to her. “Now, don’t bite me or anything if I carry you to the deck chair, alright?”Her hands, which he absently notes as having sharp claws and some delicate webbing in between, clutches at his arms in terror. The claws digs into his skin and he breathes with the effort not to hiss in pain. The whimpers come back as her tail swings with the motion.“I’ll be quick,” he murmurs, patting her riot of black hair. “Don’t panic.”She whines at his back, enough encouragement that he locates the first aid kit in record time.With a quick wrench, he pulls out the branch and grunts in pain as her hands, which had been on his shoulders, dig down. Her nails really are bloody sharp. He doesn’t blame her though. The amount of blood pooling down is a testament to how many nerves there are.“What’s your name?” he asks, patiently sewing the wound back together. The fins are long and delicate, unlike anything he’d ever touched before. At first touch, he’d likened it to leather, but after one stitch too many, he realized it was even more fragile than leather.“Neehhm?” she vocalizes, ending on a high pitched whine. “Naaahhmmee?”Smart, he realizes. Very smart.“Name,” he repeats slowly. “Reborn.” He points a bloody finger to himself and watches comprehension dawn on her.“Naaame. Reeborrn,” she repeats, getting better with the vowels and rolling the R’s.“Reborn,” he says even slower.Her eyes – a lovely emerald green that is a shade darker than the color of her tail – track his mouth and how he shapes it.Really smart, he reiterates. He gets a thrill of amazement and challenge at the thought of teaching her Italian.“Reborn,” she says, finally getting the pronunciation right.“Name,” he repeats, pointing to her.A high pitched chatter comes out of her mouth, her throat working oddly to produce it. It occurs to him that she likely had several inhuman traits in her other half as well. Humans weren’t meant to breath underwater.“Right, unpronounceable,” he mutters. “Figures. Right. I’ll just give you a name then.”He muses on that as he ties the thread and bites it off efficiently. Her eyes are wide as she watches him move, innocence seemingly radiating from her.Fragile, innocent and beautiful. It is unearthly, her beauty.“Hyacinth,” he says slowly. “I’ll call you Hyacinth.”He moves away from her injured fin and watches as she pats down at her tail with caution, and then more briskly once she realizes she could bear the pain.She chitters once more, voice high. He fancies he can hear his name somewhere in there. She gestures at him to come closer. Some things, apparently, crossed species.That clawed hand tugs at his chin and she is suddenly kissing him.It’s a thank you, he realizes about two seconds in. He’s familiar with kisses and this kiss had nothing in it but gratitude. No lust, no demands or no wants. Just gratitude.He blinks back once she’d broken it, the sly, mischievous smile on her face telling him that she was likely not as innocent as she looked like.“Minx,” he laughs, scooping her up.The backyard door’s latch opens with a practiced kick and he is making long strides towards the beach.“Take care of yourself,” he murmurs as she slides down and flips through the waves with expert ease, though from the pinched look on her face, she’d likely just realized she would pull the stitches if she moved too much.With another laugh, he shakes his head and goes home.. .Kissing a mermaid, Reborn realizes two weeks later when he falls from his yacht, had consequences.Not the least of them is that apparently, he can already breathe underwater.What had him panicked, however, are his eyes.Human eyes don’t see in the dark. Belonging in the minority that could see well enough to spot silhouettes in the dark and avoid bumping his toes on cabinets, Reborn admits to panic when he opens his eyes underwater and sees deep enough to spot the sea bed.“Fuck,” he permits himself, only to end up swallowing salt water. Automatic panic reaction has him flailing his limbs to break the surface, coughing reflexively.Now I know why she speaks in pitches, he thinks sourly. Opening ones mouth underwater, even if you can breathe it, is not advisable.“Reborn!” a voice very near him says.“Gah!” he exclaims, bobbing down in his shock.His mermaid, Hyacinth is right in front of him, eyes blinking so innocently that he doesn’t believe she did it on purpose.“Reborn,” she repeats, pointing to him. “Come.”He blinks at her. “You learned more words then. And where are we going?”She laughs, tugging at his hand. He holds back a yelp as she swims speedily towards his yacht that was still running. He’d never seen anyone swim as fast as her, not even Olympic Swimmers. Being tugged with her shouldn’t have been so comforting, except she obviously knew what she was doing.She pushes at his torso once they get close enough to his yacht. Thank Primo that he left it running slow. With a heave, he climbs on and switches the ignition off. To his surprise, Hyacinth climbs up after him, eyes wide and curious.“Make yourself at home,” he says dryly, stripping off wet clothes and finding a towel.A high pitched questioning whine had him turning back to her and he finds her eyes riveted towards his hands. A closer look makes him realize she’s looking at the silvery puncture scars from her claws. Evidently, she’d realized where it had come from.Another whine and a familiar gesture has him coming closer. She doesn’t kiss him and he has mixed feelings about that. Until she grabs the previously injured arm and licks at it.“Cazzo,” he murmurs feelingly. He feels suddenly so warm and it had nothing to do with the towel.“It’s alright,” he says, pulling his hand away from her mouth. “It was nothing. Compared to hotheaded teenagers, claws are absolutely nothing.”She still looks sad but Reborn is getting better at noticing when she’s being serious and when she’s messing with him.The glint in her eyes and the uptick at the side of her mouth tells him she’s trolling him.“Stop that,” he scolds, feeling every inch the professor he was. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”She giggles and Reborn decides to teach her more words. He teaches her about fifteen new words, somewhat startled that her learning comprehension was that fast. He vows to bring a dictionary next time.When the sun is going down and the weather is turning colder, she procures a shell from her satchel. He’d noticed it dangling from her shoulders earlier, but some things are just easy to forget.“Blow,” she says, gesturing to the hole.He obliges since she’d humored him with his words for the whole afternoon.The sound that comes out is a sweet, lovely tone, not too deep and not too high. It was a comforting sound and he thanks her for it, returning what was surely a treasure.Her face becomes genuinely upset when he returns the shell, gesturing agitatedly that it was his. Words are apparently easy to lose when upset.“Shh,” he repeats. “Alright. I’ll keep it. It’s a gift then? Thank you.”She smiles hesitantly when he makes no move to return it and then, lighting fast, she grabs his chin again and kisses him.It is another kiss of gratitude and Reborn controls himself not to deepen it into anything. Her being half-naked and him only in his swimming trunks do not help matters. At all.“Tomorrow,” she says decisively, before diving back to the sea.Reborn slumps on the deck with a groan of acute pain.. .If one kiss from a mermaid had given him the ability to breathe underwater and see into the depths of the darkness ocean floor, what does a second kiss give him?Reborn has absolutely no idea but he is willing to find out. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- There’s just something as too much coincidence, stretching the realm of improbability too far that it would likely break, and Hyacinth wants to yell it to Fate. It’s her Potter Luck, she wants to think, but this time, she’s just damned, cursed or maybe Malfoy hexed her when she wasn’t looking. Because she isn’t supposed to see her ex-boyfriend again, a year after he’d left her, when she’d finally picked up whatever remained of her dignity and had a life.And Reborn, damn him, acts like this is nothing, when every breath she is taking that carries the scent of him is like breathing in acid and there is a boulder in her throat that stuck there as soon as she’d seen the beloved fedora.“Hyacinth,” he says with surprise. “How…strange, to see you here.”She had to give him that, because after their break-up, it would have been logical to assume that she would leave Italy behind. But she is here, drinking tea and trying not to shake.“I know,” she manages. “But…this is a small world. And I can’t skirt around Italy forever, they have the best food.”His shoulders are stiff, she notes. It’s strange that, after everything, she remembers that about him. How he showed his emotions.Hermione, the Merlin blessed witch, comes back from the bathroom, taken aback when she sees Reborn. She should be. Hyacinth had, under the influence of too much firewhisky and too much paint fumes, vowed to hex him senseless the next time she saw him. The absence of spells flying must have confused her friend.“Oh, it’s you,” Hermione says, voice flat and bordering angry. “What the hell are you doing here?”He shrugs, and it’s like watching a mountain move. Hyacinth aches to…do something about it. He is so stiff from the tension.“I work around here,” Reborn says and it is more than a little annoyed. “I should be asking you that question.”Hermione’s eyes are so sharp that they are almost shooting cutting hexes. “You don’t have the right to ask us that question, what business is it of yours? I was asking what the hell you are still doing, in front of my best friend?” she hisses.Hyacinth wants to speak, to tell them to stop clawing at each other, but she can’t. The words die on the way to her throat, and for once, it is something else to have Hermione release all her anger. She knows her friend is angry on her behalf, but, at the end of everything, Hyacinth is just tired.“Hermione,” she manages, and just in time too, because Reborn’s fingers are twitching and Hermione’s bushy hair is starting to spark.She knows both of them so well and it is because of that that she is terrified. She has never really seen Reborn do his job but a title of the ‘World’s Greatest’ isn’t something you boast about unless you have the skills to support it. And Hermione’s rage…well, Dolores Umbridge was one such victim, and she still had regular nervous breakdowns after receiving the end of it.“Both of you,” she tries again. “I don’t really want either of you to fight. And Hermione, Reborn was being civil. The least you can do is reciprocate.”“Reciprocate,” Hermione says the word like Ron used to say, ‘study’. “Fine. But I swear…”She trails off, likely too angry to find words for it.Hyacinth helplessly looks to Reborn and is just in time to catch the look of frustration on his face, and anger.Oh, she knows his eyes when he allows them to express feeling and they catch the light just right. He is feeling murderous, and it is too much effort to suppress a full body flinch when he catches her eyes as well.If possible, that reaction makes him horrified, taking him out of his it.“Hyacinth,” he says softly, slowly, like one would to a rabid cat. “You do know that whatever the history that we have, I would never hurt you.”Hermione makes a sound like an angry teakettle.She feels something inside her sit up and take notice, even as the rest of her sat on that reaction as best as she could. Hope is something she is infinitely familiar with, being a physical embodiment of it for most of her life. Hope for their long dead relationship, however, is something else.Damn him.The way he said her name, caressing it like he still had the right to shape the syllables like that. Like they were something precious to him. Damn him.“Why?” she says softly, a rage that she thought had long left her coming alive again nearly bleeding through. “Why would you care? If someone puts in a hit for me tomorrow or today, I know you would take it.”She has the satisfaction of watching Reborn turn white, before it is overwhelmed by remorse for saying it.In all their…acquaintance, she had never brought up the subject of his job, or used it against him, even in their worst arguments.This is the lowest of all low blows and both of them know it.“Is that what you think?” he asks, voice hoarse. “That I don’t care?”She wants to shout ‘YES’ at him. She had replayed him leaving of what must be a thousand times in her mind, and all she saw was his ruthless efficiency as he packed all his bags and left, not even sparing her a glance.It stops in her lips, because the fine trembling of his fingers, as well as the muscle jerking in his jaw tell her different. If she had seen him like this, when they were still together, she would have given him two boxes of china to break and left him for an hour. This is Reborn struggling for control and for a man who had such control of his emotions, to have him nearly lose it…is something else.He purses his lips at her continued silence and breathes deeply. Abruptly, he leaves, the espresso still on the table, the chair overturned in his haste.Hyacinth looks down at her tea, and wonders why everything is blurry and why her ears cannot hear properly, only a rushing sound. Her breath stutters in her lungs and Hyacinth finally, blissfully, faints.. .He had thought that going to get a cup of espresso would be a good breakfast, as well as a muffin. But, the sight of his old lover, sitting there and reading a book, swirling a cup of tea absentmindedly, was like going through time.If he really concentrates, he can recall that was how they first met. In a coffeeshop, her with a book and a teacup.The confrontation, however, was something he had expected. He had known a total of four women in his life Before Hyacinth. One, he was Luce of the Giglio Nero. The other two were good dates when he needed one for Nono’s numerous balls. And the other one was Bianchi, with her clingy ways. It had taught him that women usually bit, scratched and clawed at whoever hurt them, whether literally or verbally.That argument had been Hyacinth gouging into him. And if eyes could shoot knives, her best friend’s glares could have killed him within the first second.He still loves her, of course, and maybe that’s why the gouging had been so effective. It had felt like a blow to the stomach, winding him and making it difficult to breath.Why would she think he would ever hurt her? Why would she think he didn’t care?He may never have told her, not in words. But in everything else…His watch rang then and Reborn pushed everything away, to the back of his mind and, when a stray through filtered through, deeper to where he imagined the darker side of his flames were.His target was rounding the building, and if the target’s patterns held through, he would cross the street in 3…2…1…click ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Reborn is now really curious about Hyacinth’s Flame.Using Flames while being pregnant, while not as taxing to the mother like magic, would be good for the baby in small doses. He isn’t the type to wrap the child in Flames to get a taste of it while in the womb. That practice had fallen out of style because of the miscarriages that had happened.But he does want to know what Flames his lover has, in order to prepare any emergencies.She hadn’t been using it consciously, and the flickers of fire that he often saw peripherally could not have belonged to anyone else but her. Unfortunately, it was never in the quantities large enough to discern the type.Luckily, Vongola had a method for that.“Hyacinth,” he calls out as he removes his shoes. “My dear?”Her humming originates from the garden and he makes a beeline towards her.He pauses at the doorway and feels all the irritation from his last job fade away.“Well, this is a pretty picture,” he drawls out. Teddy and Hyacinth look up with bright smiles, the mirth in their faces evident.“The little wolf wandered in the forest,” Hyacinth explains as she brushes through matted fur and the wolf cub shudders in pleasure. “Teddy found it being bullied by the bowtruckles.”The cub scowls at him. Reborn doesn’t blame it. Hyacinth’s attention is a heady and wonderful thing and the cub is obviously halfway in love with her already.She hands over the brush to Teddy and the boy delightedly tackles the next matted knot of fur. While not as gentle as Hyacinth, Teddy makes up for it in sheer exuberance and enthusiasm. The cub can’t quite keep up the scowl under Teddy’s absolute concentration.“What do you have there?” she asks as she wanders over to him, hands brushing away at stray wolf fur.He pulls her to sit on the porch and opens the velvet box, showing a large white sapphire.“Oooh,” Hyacinth coos. “It’s so beautiful.”Her fingers twitch and he covers up a laugh. Of course she’s attracted to the sparkly thing. It glimmers and shines in the afternoon sunlight.“It’s not jewelry,” he tells her and her face falls. He feels, momentarily, like trash. He stomps on that feeling with determination.“It’s not?” she repeats. “But…”“Do you remember our conversation about Flames?” he prods. “You know, the Orange Flame that Byakuran had been playing with?”Her eyebrows wrinkle. “Something about the weather?”With a sigh, though it’s not really heartfelt – Reborn is still a teacher before he is a hitman – he tells her about the seven Flames of the Sky and their properties. When he gets to the third one, her expression clears and she is practically vibrating in her seat.“Oh,” she interrupts after he explains Mist Flames. “You’re talking about the Soul Fire.”He feels distinctly confused. What?She continues at his look, “The really old magical families have alliances about Soul Fire, something about compatibility between heirs and some such. I’m not really sure. I only know that Luna has researched about it because it had been in her mother’s notes.” Then she blinks, eyes going wide. “Are you telling me that the mafia managed to weaponize it?”He allows his Sun Flames, still the strongest in the world, to coat his hand in a shining, yellow light. She looks completely fascinated.“That must be unhealthy,” she announces. “Or something. I mean, none of the purebloods really use theirs aside from another source of light. Those with crimson lights are always careful about the bedsheets though.”He wants to laugh. Really. Using flames as lamps. “You have magic. In a magical society, Flames must come secondary.”The box on his lap catches his attention and he goes back to his point. “The Vongola has researched this, Tesoro. Children that grow up with Flames are more likely to develop theirs. And she needs every weapon in her arsenal to grow up safe.”She gives him an exasperated look at the pronoun use but obligingly accepts the white sapphire.“Channel your will,” he says. “Don’t just glare at it.”The White Sapphire, one of the biggest ones that Gianini had in his stock, winked merrily as little slivers of orange, green and yellow chase themselves around the stone. It is still no match for Hyacinth. Abruptly, Reborn remembers that Hyacinth had faced death and glared it down with little to no fear. The effect that would have on her Dying Will Flames would be tremendous.This realization comes a bit too late and the White Sapphire shines for a moment in absolutely radiant multi-colored fire before exploding into dust.“Err,” she coughs, eyes watering. “I take it that wasn’t supposed to happen?”He runs a hand through her face, her hair and ghosts a hand down her torso, checking for damage.“I’m fine,” she says, though she doesn’t push away his hands. “So what was that?”Reborn finally smiles. “Sky Flames. Lightning and Sun. She’s going to be a well-equipped little thing.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Mercenary AU . There is a blade pressed down on her throat, and that's how Hyacinth wakes up."Don't move," the assassin whispers. "I might slip."His voice is lovely, she notes absently. The rest of her is frozen partly in terror and partly in surprise. She blinks the haze of sleep away and sees through the gloom the dark, unfathomable eyes of her killer.She flutters her eyes at him and he puts some space between the blade and the vulnerable skin of her throat."Why?" she asks. "Who?"Through the thin mask of black cloth, she can feel him smile. "It doesn't matter."If she had been in her proper state of mind, she would have protested, or called the guards the moment the assassins guard was down. But she wasn't. Earlier, her beloved father had just told her she would have to get married. To the bloodsoaked Dukedom of Vongola. A marriage that would hammer out peace treaties and prevent wars.And she wanted to escape, to just stop thinking, because marriage to such a chaotic and bloody part of her kingdom made her skin crawl.Death, all of a sudden, to her insomnia-riddled mind, seemed like a viable option."Thank you," she whispers when she feels the muscles on his arm move again.The hand stops."What," the assassin says, voice too flat to make the word a question. "I thought I saw fire in you, princess."She doesn't answer. He is merely an assassin and she doesn't need to explain herself to him."Never mind," he growls, low and angry. "I'm not paid enough for this."..Two weeks later sees Hyacinth slogging after the man who had been supposed to kill her. Supposed to kill her."Why did you change your mind?" she finally asks. This is their first, real conversation that didn't involve insults (Hyacinth) and one of them storming off in a towering temper(the assassin-Reborn).He looks ready to growl, but he takes one look at her face and subsides, clutching at his ridiculous hat that was supposed to be his disguise. (Ridiculous, Hyacinth would mutter whenever she caught sight of it. It had a yellow band.)"You were…interesting," he finally says, rolling the words around his mouth slowly.Hyacinth wants to slap him. The only reason she slogged through the marshes, dodging arrows and sword strikes and riding barebacked on a horse was because she was interesting. Still, it saved her life. It might not save her sanity."You don't understand princess," he says, probably feeling her irritated silence. "How utterly, mind-numbingly boring it is to be the best in your field."So she had been saved, because he was bored.Hyacinth clenches her hands underneath her robes and tries not to cry...In the end, it isn't any slip in Reborn's part that gets them caught. It is Hyacinth's innate people saving thing, as her best friend mutters under her breath.A little beggar boy, about to be whipped for stealing a piece of bread. And of course, Hyacinth's green eyes. The Potter's are always known for being kind, but her green eyes have practically given her a token to be recognized."It's the missing princess!" an idiot cries out. "Princess, welcome back!"She is in Vongola territory, and she wants to smack the idiot. By Reborn's hissed threat, he is feeling the same thing."How fast can you swim?" he asks her as they run, her with a hand on his tunic and trying not to trip on her oversized skirt."How fast can you swim?" she fires back. Potter Land is surrounded by large bodies of water. It is practically illogical not to swim at least once in her life.He smirks and she feels that dreaded feeling climbing down her spine. Swiftly, without even pausing, he reaches down and rips her skirt in half. Before she can gasp in horror, he is picking her up and throwing her to the river.The water is not welcome and it is only instinct that keeps Hyacinth afloat. The second splash tells her he has also entered the water. She glares at his grinning visage through wet locks."You utter jerk," she growls."Race you to the other side of the river," he says.They take off without a signal, because the sounds of the guards's marching had been too much for her frazzled nerves. It is likely that Reborn's professional pride wouldn't let him get caught, the arrogant asshole."What's your next plan now?" she asks, wringing her hair dry and determined not to show any shivers.He upends his hat and considers, a finger on his mouth."I have a foolish student that might be willing to take us in, until I can rescind my contract to kill you," he says. "You will have to cooperate though, princess. No more of this ridiculous urge you have to save everyone you meet."She clenches her hands and tries not to shout at him. "It's cruel to leave them to suffer, just because you can't be bothered to care."He lowers himself to her height and Hyacinth refuses to admit that she might be a little bit intimidated. Decades of being told that she held the hope of the Potters made her straighten her back and glare back."Does it ever occur to you, Princess, that the people you save might not like to be saved? That they might appreciate saving themselves?" he asks.The rebuttal flummoxes her and she's momentarily speechless.Reborn smirks at her and leaves her gaping like a fish by the riverbank...They are surrounded by bandits, two days into Varia territory and the only reason why Hyacinth hasn't broken down crying yet is because she sees Reborn actually making an effort to make it easier for her, though it certainly can't be easier for him.Twelve men against one man, however powerful, are just impossible odds and everybody knows it, including the bandits."The great Reborn," their leader sneers. "We'll be sure to leave your face intact, we're collecting you're bounty afterwards, and getting a reward for returning the princess."Reborn's hand is loose and his gun is already cocked and loaded. His eyes are dark."You'll be the first to die," Reborn announces.The leader goes pale and signals, and things go to hell.Everybody had forgotten Hyacinth though, because she is a woman, a princess and useless. But they also forgot that she is a Potter and the daughter of Lily Fire-hair, Dragon Tamer and Wind Chaser. So when the men behind Reborn goes for his unprotected back, she grabs the swords sticking out of belts and plunges it into their chests.It doesn't go as smoothly as she'd hoped, and she almost trips over her skirt. But that's two men down. She checks on Reborn and finds him with a bleeding shoulder, three more bandits left.Hyacinth kicks the one trying to creep at his blindside and he goes down with a squeak that makes her smirk. High heels, no matter how impractical, are weapons for unsuspecting men.The other two are finished off with Reborn's gun and he staggers to the side. She catches his elbow and his eyes go wide at the sight behind him."You did that?" he asks, after two slow blinks.She ducks her head and tries not to squirm. "Yeah," she says softly.He tips her head up using her chin, reminding her abruptly of an opportunistic suitor. Unlike that suitor, Reborn immediately puts his hand down once she's looking at him."Raise your head, you did great. Now, if you kill someone, kill them quickly so they don't suffer," he says, proceeding to surprise her out of her wits. He lectures her on how to kill someone, where to hit and says it in such a soothing voice that it takes her out of the shock.Even injured, he walks with dignity, doing his best not to show weakness.It's at that moment that Princess Hyacinth, only daughter of the Potter's, falls in love with an assassin... Reborn He sees fire in her eyes as he spies in her household.The only Potter Princess, the pampered child of James Potter. She had the delicate bones of her mother and her father's coloring. Except for her eyes. They burned with fire and defiance.It draws him in and almost makes him forget his mission. To kill her.He'd wanted to refuse – still wants to refuse. To kill a merchant is to halt a trade. To kill a princess, the only princess, will end that line and there would be anarchy and a possible Civil war if succession and inheritance isn't settled quickly.Besides, he thinks, as she storms off in a huff. She is the daughter of Lily Fire-hair, Dragon tamer. He'd owed Lily a debt and murdering her daughter would likely make her haunt him."To hell with this," he murmurs, sliding past two pillars and effectively out of sight...He wakes her up before he kills her, if only to give himself a reason not to.And her eyes are still as vibrant a green as before, if even brighter in the darkness.But her defiance and will is burned out and resignation is all over her.She even has the gall to thank him.It's so offensive that he almost gapes.How could she! How could she just give up?He takes his blade away and just straight up drags her out of her castle. His contract never specified when he had to kill her anyway. He had to understand first, why this fiery princess, who had the blood of dragons, just fucking thanked him for killing her. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Hyacinth Hyacinth was the goddess of Life.Flowers grew where she trod and the forest she lived in was evergreen.It was a lovely point in Creation, because humans had yet to exist and all she knew were her attendants, the nymphs, and the other gods. They were clean and primal, coming into being due to ideas rather than faith and prayers.Hyacinth was powerful, but she was lonely. Her wisest friend, the nymph Hermione of the Wisteria tree, said, “Why don’t you create a companion?”And she created him, the first man and found companionship.But she had forgotten the laws laid down into the very being of the Old gods. That they could never own what they created. All beings created would inevitably rebel against their creator.The first man gave her a child and left, seeking other companions. Her child became the first god without a domain to guide and her eyes opened, already aware despite being a day old.“I will grant you dominion over the mountains,” she whispered to the baby. “And you shall be the goddess of mountain ranges and the high places. The immovable, the impassable and the hard unbreakable passes.”The child god, which had been silent and near transparent, started to cry, much to her relief.Hyacinth did not name her, because the child would name herself, once she could get over herself.. Reborn Reborn was the god of Death.He came into being beside the goddess of life, and from where they touched came the first light.He knew that, because he woke first and remembered first. He opened his eyes and saw the great chasms and the darkness that roamed the planet that he knew was their home.It was his duty, he knew, so he gathered the darkness into the chasm, took those who felt like his and plunged them into a realm that was meant for the dead. Because the upper-world was meant for life, his world was meant for death only.He created caverns of resting for the dead, a place of joyous paradise for the glorious and a place of immeasurable agony for the wretched.It was a lonely existence, and he could not create life like the goddess of life. His wraiths, his skeletons and the angry craven creatures that existed in the under-world were quiet companions.So he often came into the upper-world to watch the living.He watched the other gods come into existence, primal and nearly ungoverned save for the laws laid into their very bones.He watched the first man lay with a nymph and start all of human kind, spreading them far and starting his first guests in his under-world.Mostly, he watched the goddess of Life create life without trouble, unhindered, untroubled and happy.She was the most captivating thing he had ever seen and he burned with envy. He wanted to have her laugh for him, to smile at him. But he knew that it would be folly to force the goddess of Life. She would go where she wished.So he watched, and looked at where all flowers grew and plucked them. It took effort not to have it wither in his hands, but he held life and smiled.. Hyacinth She was bored.Life was meant to be breathtaking, different and she did her best to create little wonders. From the icy caverns in the north where she knew man would not find in a couple of centuries, to the underwater caves that caused hot geysers to erupt in sequence. She made secret places and beautiful places, all for mankind to find. She made gloriously magical animals to the small, unnoticed creatures.She met new gods who bowed to her and old gods who withered away from the lack of belief. She bore two more children, each of whom she gave guardianship to places where humans would not likely exist yet to make their own gods.Her firstborn child named herself Maria and had hard eyes the color of the stone in her mountains.“Mother,” Maria said. “You can close your eyes and rest, if you are tired. It is not a hardship, there are various gods to care for your creation.”Her child was only worried, yet Hyacinth did not like the idea of closing her eyes to hibernate. What would happen to the world, if Life slept?She wandered out of the Ancient Forest that was her home, disguising herself as a peasant human and burying her power deep into her very being.Hyacinth became just Hyacinth, not a goddess of Life, but a woman with eyes like the evergreen forest.It was the first time she had ever interacted with humans, being that she was one of the Primordial Gods, born more out of thought and the forces of the Universe than any human faith and belief.“Did you come here for the festival of the goddess of the Ancient Forest, my dear?” an old woman asked her as she passed by the colorful stalls.“The goddess of the Ancient Forest?” Hyacinth queried, because she was fairly certain she was the only goddess of the Ancient Forest.“She that made all life,” the old woman answered with a smile on her face. “We daren’t name her, but we give thanks to her in the spring.”Hyacinth nodded and felt a little touched. She had never felt the need to show herself to the humans but they worshipped her anyway.But since the old woman was sharing…”The god of Death. Do you know him?” Hyacinth asked.The old woman – and here a distant knowledge told her that her name was Saralyn – frowned. “He comes in Autumn. Because there is no life in the under-world. So he visits the upper-world. And because of him, the leaves fall, and colder still, when he lingers.”Hyacinth thanked her with a small smile and went to sit on the temple steps.She had known of the god of Death distantly. She knew of him and his deeds, of keeping the darkness at bay and the other creatures that did not belong with the living. Because those creatures needed to exist to keep a balance in the world.She had never seen him though.She had seen his footsteps, the blackened earth where he trod a glaring sign for its lack of life. She had seen the marigolds that sprung when he left, the flowers of the dead.But she had never seen him. Why was that?. Reborn As the goddess of Life made more and more creatures to fill the earth, made more marvels that he could distantly feel, he felt it echo in his domain.He saw the dark caverns holding a bit of light from the crystals that glowed in the dark like distant stars. Reborn held his breath as the dark creatures procreated and evolved, becoming more, reflecting the different creatures she created in the upper-world.Reborn influenced these changes, welcoming them and molding them as to how it would go. His under-world was getting plenty of traffic and he wondered why. The humans were getting plentier and plentier, with the occasional demi-god thrown into the mix. (Nymphs were different. They became plants at their death.)He had an assistant, a man who died with a soul so kind and righteous that even in the dark, he glowed like the sun. Reborn had chosen Tsunayoshi among a thousand souls because he reacted so hilariously every time he saw a hellhound or a wraith. A lifetime of prejudice against dark creatures did not react well when those dark creatures just wanted a cuddle.He smiled as he saw short dark flowers that glowed in the darkness, golden muted light that lightened the grim atmosphere. It was the first time he had seen them though, and he asked them, like he asked every change in his domain, of what it echoed from in the upper-world.“Why are you here?” he asked the flowers, touching their soft petals. He did not even need to hold back his powers; they were made from his domain and were grown from the darkness. It did not thrive in sunlight, but in the absence of it.The flowers answered him. The goddess of Life was thinking about him.Reborn inhaled sharply.“Why?” he blurted out, before chastising himself. It did not matter. He had already resigned himself to watching from a distance, someone as beautiful and vibrant as the goddess of Life did not need the god of Death.Tsunayoshi smiled behind him. “Maybe because she has never met you?” he pointed out. “She has seen your effects on the living; she would not be a goddess if she cannot notice that. But she has never seen you, because you hide from her. Like one of your wraiths. Why do you hide from her? If I remember, you were born together, though you woke first.”Reborn pursed his lips, remembering the light born from where their skin touched.. Hyacinth There were paths to the under-world, if you knew where to look.Places where light doesn’t touch and life doesn’t grow. Small, unnoticeable places for the hellhounds to wander and play.There, Hyacinth waited for the god of Death while dressed like a mortal woman. She sat on the stone by the entrance. Being that it was nearing the end of summer, she knows it was almost time for the god’s yearly circuit of the planet.When he emerged though, he immediately knew who she was.“Goddess of Life,” he greeted.She stood up and shed her mortal garb, smiling at him. “God of Death. Call me Hyacinth.”He did not step back but he clearly wanted to. Hyacinth impishly smiled, holding out her hand. “Come with me, I want to show you something.”The god of Death hesitated, but obliged, their hands glowing as it touched. Hyacinth was momentarily stalled by the sight, remembering something from a distant dream, but she shook it off.“Let’s go!” she said, pulling him along to the northern ice caps, where no human had yet settled and there was no one to see them.Hyacinth took him to her favorite creation, the hidden caverns under the ice, where light reflected and turned into a thousand different colors.“It’s beautiful,” he breathed.“Isn’t it?” she agreed. “I love this place the most, where no man has touched and no creature will ever live.”He looked at her then, surprised. “You created humans. You created all creatures.”Hyacinth looked down at her feet, bare and uncovered but not touching the floor. She did not want any flowers to bloom here where they would just die in her absence.“I create,” she sighed. “I create. And they do not stay.”The ancient laws pressed deep into their bones. Nothing one created would ever be owned by their creator, so long as they have sentience.What then, for someone who was born to create?This is why Hyacinth loved the flowers, mainly because they would never leave her.. Reborn His hand touched hers and for the first time, Reborn felt the stirrings of hope. Because her face echoed the loneliness in him.Maybe Tsunayoshi had a point. Perhaps there was a reason they were born side by side.“Did you know,” he said, just to break the heartbreaking silence. “That the light that shows when we touch is the light that created all gods.”Her eyes light up with her smile. “Created all gods?” she asked.Reborn nodded. “When we touch, there is a new being born, something borne out of the light, but not borne from you. That being…will not be your creation.”She was elated. She touched his sleeve, careful now that she understood what the light was. “Let us come into my forest. We must speak on this further.”Reborn felt that she hadn’t exactly thought that through.“Wait, Hyacinth,” he called and maybe he hadn’t thought that through either. The sound of her name around his lips made both of them shiver. Distantly, he realized he’d never told her his name either, the one he chose for himself.“Yes?” she asked hesitantly.“Are you sure you want the god of Death in the center of Creation of Life?” he asked, pointing out the obvious.She smiled at him then, one that softened her face and made her look less like a goddess. “I trust you. You can control yourself. And my children are not there, so no one should mind.”Trust should not be so intoxicating. He knew that if anyone were ever to enter into his domain, he would not be quite as nonchalant.“Of course,” he managed.. Hyacinth She does not know how long they spend in her domain, but when her daughter came stomping through irritably, embodying the very mountain passes that had been in her essence, Hyacinth knew she’d forgotten something.“Mother, I was approached by the Steward of Death asking about where his master was – “she cut off, catching sight of Reborn (he had given his name after some hesitation, making sure they were completely alone before telling her.) “I guess I know where the god of Death is.”“Maria, how are your mountains?” Hyacinth asked just to diffuse the tension.Maria still stared at the god of Death in all his glory by her side, both of them sharing a basket of fruits.“My mountains are fine, mother. Why is he here?” she asked.Hyacinth sat up. “Because I asked him to.”Maria stared some more, and then left without a word.“I suppose that was my clue to leave,” Reborn murmured. “And I must attend to the under-world. It must be pretty chaotic without me.”Hyacinth knew that was true, but still she didn’t want him to leave. He was her equal.“How long have you spent in my Forest?” she asked slowly, getting an idea.“Six months, give or take,” he answered. He brushed the grass from his knees, none of them dying because he was always so careful around her home.She blinked at him. “We are the balance, and that is why we cannot stay in the upper-world together too long. But it stands to reason that we cannot stay in the under-world together too long as well.”Reborn went so still. His fingers twitched and his eyes watched her face.“Alright,” he said eventually, slowly. “I’ll send you a message after I’ve managed my affairs.”Hyacinth tried not to worry.Hermione pointed out what she was missing. “You do realize that the rest of the gods think you have imprisoned Death in here?”Hyacinth rose up in a flurry and hurriedly sent a message to Reborn.. Reborn He grabbed her when she walked the fields unattended by her nymphs, a black chariot speeding by, pulled by hellhounds with fiery eyes.It was properly dramatic, exploding from the very earth and creating a chasm that would likely have consequences later. Hyacinth even managed a scream.“This is not a message!” she whispered to him, on the verge of giggling.He smirked. “Well, I wanted to, but I changed my mind. Surprising you is the proper way to go about things. You certainly imprisoned me in your forest and let my creatures worry.”Hyacinth started to laugh, ignoring the image she was supposed to portray.“My daughters will hurt you,” she said. “And my only son will probably cause earthquakes.”He laughed, a properly evil cackle that she was sure he had practice on, simply because it unnerved her. “My domain is untouched by any other god. Let them try!”“Properly evil,” she murmured with a smile. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Any normal person would have said, “You just can’t set people on fire!”Hyacinth just cocks her head to the side and watches with concern shining in her eyes as Tsuna runs after a rival mafia boss with fire licking in his hair and hands. Actually, fire was everywhere and she marvels that no one is actually burning.“Wow,” she finally manages to say. “Tsuna seems to have an immunity to fire.”Reborn, hands equipped with a gun, smirks. “Yes. I trained him with that too.”When the beating starts and Reborn glances at her from the side of his eyes with worry, Hyacinth’s brow wrinkles.“Do you think he’ll be alright?” she asks. “His teeth seem to have deserted him.”Yamamoto, holding an unsheathed sword, laughs loudly. “Oh, his teeth will be joined by about two pints of blood.”Reborn just places a hand on her wrist. Her hands were trembling a little as she watches the blood.“Tsuna,” she calls. “Unless you like him to go into cardiac arrest, please stop. I don’t think the human body is made to withstand losing that much blood.”Tsuna stops and Reborn herds her to the kitchen, kicking everyone out and handing her a mixing bowl and a ladle.After making five dozen cookies, all of which Reborn didn’t touch, her body no longer trembles but she sags against the kitchen counter.“Well, I don’t suppose that thing will be a rare occurrence,” she mutters. “I just hope it doesn’t involve as much blood. I don’t really appreciate remembering.”Reborn just holds her and she slowly relaxes, the dark memories fading to the back of her mind again. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Hyacinth had never tried baking during Christmas. Mrs. Wesaley had always taken over all the cooking and any attempts on Hyacinth’s part to help had been rebuffed politely.Since the Weasley’s were delaying their Christmas celebrations because Fleur had given birth to a second child, a boy, Hyacinth finally has time to bake.She starts with gingerbread cookies. Half of it is Enchanted and the other half is not. Then, she moves on to sugar cookies despite her misgivings. Having an excess of sugar in the same house as Teddy was a generally a bad idea all around. But since it was Christmas...a small batch would have to do.Then, she moves on to making half a gallon of hot cocoa.“Smells lovely,” Reborn murmurs, sliding a hand around her waist and nosing around the nape of her neck.Hyacinth shivers. “Don’t distract me, or the cookies will burn,” she warns.There’s a sigh of regret and Reborn is moving away as she knows he would. Reborn’s love for her is only matched by his love of her food.“Can you find Teddy and let him out to burn some energy? By the time you come back, there’ll be hot cocoa and cookies,” she tells him.He is pouting but he goes, making her smile at his back. Such a scary hitman and he’s acting like a child when denied cuddles.She vows to make it up to him.. .Hyacinth had never heard of giorno di magro until she met Reborn.And then she had to cook for him. And realized that as an Italian and a Christian (which still made her head hurt, how did he manage it while being a hitman?) he practiced giorno di magro and did not eat any meat during Christmas Eve.She’d blinked, and then decided to research how to cook seafood and vegetables for the both of them. Teddy would be satisfied with some pasta.Padfoot Jr., or rather, PJ heralds the boys’s return with loud barks and Mippy’s loud exclamations of rain getting in the house.“The sky is completely overcast,” Reborn announces. “A lot more rain is coming.”Hyacinth’s smile is amused. “You mean, more than the ones we’ve had for the past few days? It’s still weird that you lot don’t get snow.”He shook his head. “It snows in the Alps, further north. We’re too far south for it to reach us. Now, if it starts snowing in Rome, however...”She knows he could talk forever about the weather in Italia so she hands him a towel and a mug of cocoa.“I jumped in puddles,” Teddy reports. “And splashed the hydrangeas.”At least he didn’t bathe in it.The timer lets out a sound and she hurriedly lets out the cookies, making both boys shuffle closer like iron filings drawn to a magnet.Her mistake is turning her back on Reborn and a tray of cookies. Never mind how fresh it is from the oven, by the time she turns around again, there’s two cookies missing from the tray and Reborn’s mouth is bulging.Teddy looks betrayed.“I can’t believe you!” she exclaims. “How are you not burning your mouth?”He winks at her in answer and his eyes are glowing yellow.“You’re using Soul Fire to coat your mouth so as not to get burned,” she mutters in disbelief. “You are completely unbelievable.”He swallows, exhaling a steam of heat at the same time.Hyacinth should absolutely get used to how ridiculous this man is.“I love you,” she tells him seriously. “But I am not kissing you until you drink some water. I might burn my tongue.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Hermione is on the end of her tether, which is the only reason why she thinks it would be a good idea. Several sleepless nights and extreme stress and worry can do that to a person. She'd been making a lot of good decisions lately, so one bad one had to have snuck in somewhere.Except, staring at the hitman she had somehow tracked down, the voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like Hyacinth chimes in, 'This is a bad idea'.She knows that!But desperate times called for desperate and ill-advised measures. So."What?" the hitman asks, going so still that she's abruptly reminded of a snake eyeing a target."Hyacinth is missing," she repeats, the words rubbing her throat raw on the way out. "And we've tried everything. Her house-elves are all in coma's. Blood tracking is blocked, as is magical tracking. And, Look. I know the two of you broke up but the only way left is the muggle way and you're the only muggle I know who can find her."Reborn takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly."How long has she been gone?" he asks.Hermione takes it as agreement and almost sags with relief. Almost, because if she does, then she would fall asleep. She's so wired up that anything might set her off."Two weeks," she says. "We don't know who took her. They left no trace. It's like they erased everything."Reborn shook his head, eyes going distant as his focus shifted inward. "Or like they had a very powerful Mist or a Storm."He pats her on the shoulder. "I'll take care of this. Get yourself some rest."Hermione blinks as the hitman walks past her. Hyacinth had told her that Reborn was kind. She'd just never seen it until now...Reborn starts calling up favors.First, he calls Hibari, because if anyone in the Vongola is keeping track of human trafficking, it's the Foundation.Next, he calls Verde."Has anyone asked you to invent a way to block magic?" he asks without preamble.There is a pause so incredulous that Reborn could hear it in the silence. "Magic, Reborn?" Verde asks scathingly.He rolls his eyes. He would have been skeptical too, except he'd seen his lover turn the coffee table into a lion."Yes, magic. Except they probably coached it in a way that is scientific? Likely some sort of energy, or a radiation? Probably in the shape of handcuffs, a wrist band, or something?"Really, if he had kidnapped a wizard, looking for a way to block the magic is the step before knocking them unconscious. It had to be something hard to remove and not so noticeable.The silence at the other end is not incredulous as contemplative. "...Someone did ask me to make specialized anklets a month ago," Verde admits. "I still remember who ordered it, but if they're any half-way decent Mafioso, they would have used a false name.""A false name is a start," Reborn prods, flames quivering with interest. Which. He's not examining that. He is going to ignore the way his very Will quivers at the thought of Hyacinth in danger. Nope. Denial, thy best friend is Reborn...Hibari might be in a bad temper because of Reborn, but that's alright because they just plugged several smuggling routes.Lal and Colonnello come up dry as well, which pisses all of them off. No one likes having their competence questioned.Finally he resorts to Viper.He loves living comfortably and he hates relying on anyone when he can do it himself, which is why Viper is always the last resort. Besides, her Thoughtography is cheating when it comes to tacking down people. It makes it so easy."Reborn," Viper greets in that dry, deadpan tone."I need a location. Whoever took her are professionals. There is absolutely no trace." That pisses him off too. There is always a trace somewhere. Someone always got clumsy."A moment," Viper says, not even pausing. It's a testament to their long acquaintance that Viper doesn't demand payment upfront. "A name?"Reborn sighs out "Hyacinth Potter," which gets him a choked off cough in lieu of the sneeze he'd been expecting."I thought you broke up?" they demand. "Wait, her people couldn't find her?"Reborn had forgotten momentarily that Viper knows about magic. He pretends not to be too shocked."No. She's blocked from magical tracking and blood tracking," he snarls.Viper muffles a curse and the sneeze he'd been waiting for occurs. After a moment, Viper says, "This is Rome. I have no idea – wait, that's the Tiber River. Reborn, she's very close."With a savage grin, Reborn drops the call...Reborn has seen a lot of things in his life, but he had never seen anyone who could block Viper's Thoughtography. It's an amazing skill and one that is unique to Viper alone.He sneaks inside the mansion and has his suspicions confirmed. The kidnappers are magical, and no mafia are involved at all, aside from the initial kidnapping.Damn, he could use the back-up Hermione had offered, but he would rather do missions alone. And adding other people meant that he increased the variable risks involved.Two floors down and he finds her, locked in a room and practically seething with so much anger that her flames are showing in her eyes. Her captors don't notice at all and continue on obliviously.There is a food tray placed near her that she is ignoring and Reborn's heart melts without any warning when he sees her give them all a look full of scorn."I don't care what your demands are," she says calmly. "I'm not involved in the Ministry anyway."A handsome man with a charming smile pats her shoulder. "But Miss Potter, your friend is involved! You can simply convince her.""What you want does not matter to me. You lost the right to civilized conversation the moment you killed my house-elves and took me from my home," she says, the calm finally breached by rage.It makes Reborn shiver.At that moment, the man in charge is finally fed up and raises a hand to back-hand her across the face. He could see Hyacinth preparing to roll with the force of it, not bracing herself. (Which meant she'd gotten hit enough times to know how to minimize the damage...!)Reborn finds himself stepping forward and shooting the raised hand all at the same time. The plan is completely torn to shreds and he does not mind at all.Everyone turns to look at him and he saunters forward, not a care in the world but very much focused on how Hyacinth's eyes shimmer with unshed tears."What are you doing here?" she demands.The man steps forward, snarling over his injured hand. "I do not care! Kill him!"Spells start flying around and Reborn dodges them all without breaking a sweat, firing back rounds of bullets shining with Sun Flames, making the bullets fly at speeds they could not avoid at all.He doesn't kill everyone though, just crippled most of them. Killing shots while dodging takes a bit more thought than Reborn has. And. He can't think with Hyacinth just a foot from him and looking at him like that."Merde, you are a troublemaker," Reborn mutters, checking his bullets.Hyacinth jingles at her bound wrists impatiently. "Then why are you here, if I am such trouble for you?" she demands.Reborn holsters his gun, unmindful of the heat from the barrel. "I came here because your friend Hermione found me and asked me to help find you. Which I have. End of story."The ropes come loose and Hyacinth accepts the lock-picks he hands her for the magic-restricting anklets. Then, she sets it on fire with a vindictive flick of her hand."Ah yes, your job," she says.The amount of derision she packs into the four words is impressive. If it hadn't been directed at him, Reborn would be impressed."Yes, my job," he agrees. "You've made your opinions about my job perfectly clear, Hyacinth."She shivers involuntarily, and then scowls at him. "Don't. Don't say it like that. Don't say my name like that. You don't get to say it like you still care about me.""I don't!" he shouts, finally fed up with everything. He wants to walk away from her, but something is rooting him to the spot. He can't walk away, or everything would start to hurt. "I don't care! Don't put words in my mouth."She stands her ground. "I know you don't, which is why it hurts. You walked away from me without even arguing for us, Reborn. So. Stop acting like you care! Because you don't!"He gets into her face, which isn't what he would usually do for arguments. "You think it was easy? Walking away?"She goes still. "If it wasn't easy, why did you do it?"Every breath hurts, but he doesn't let it show. "If you loved me, why did you never go after me?" he asks, voice small.Her face crumples and she hunches in on herself."I-I tried," she says. "By the time I could stand up, you were long gone."She looks defeated. A year ago, he would have wanted to see this, but it is not that time now. Now, it's just wrong.He sighs and looks around in an effort to distract himself, and finds that he had been so absorbed in arguing with her that all those he'd just maimed are propping themselves along a wall and watching them with wide eyes. Like they're a show.His temper boils over and he cocks his gun, making everyone in the vicinity flinch."Wait, we surrender!" one of them screech. There are seven survivors."Don't ever touch her again," he snarls. "Or you'll find out what my real job title is and my gun will be the last thing you'll ever see."He grabs her hand and tugs her to the exit. He ignores the way her fingers curl against his...Hyacinth runs into Hermione's open arms."Are you alright?" Hermione asks, concern in her voice. "You look terrible.""I'm starving," Hyacinth announces. "And you have no room to throw stones, you look just as bad. When was the last time you slept?""Yesterday," Hermione says. "Your ex let me sleep while he rampaged all around Italy for you. The news reported it. There were explosions in the span of three hours after I informed him."Hyacinth's heart skipped a beat. She tells herself it doesn't matter. She ignores the warm concern Reborn had directed at her before he'd noticed her looking and pretended indifference again."Let's just go home," she whispers.Hermione nods at Reborn. "Let's settle debts via owls, later. I'll get her home."The hitman, who had been watching a few feet away, nods. His face is guarded.Hermione looks at the both of them and wants to sigh...Reborn corresponds with Hermione in the matter of payments via owls.He doesn't accept Galleons, but he accepts favors. Favors from a witch are more important than money.He doesn't hear from Hyacinth and he pretends that it doesn't make his flames ache.Thus, he is considerably surprised when Artemis the screech owl arrives instead of the usual barn owl that Hermione uses."Dinner at CiPasso? Just to catch up."He hesitates. But. He misses her. Talking to her had been the highlight of his day.He flips the paper over and answers, "Set the time and I'll be there. Don't be late."He shoots Tsuna when the Decimo points out later that he's smiling. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Colonnello, are you busy this weekend?” Reborn asked, then - before Colonnello could answer - he continued. “Never mind, clear your schedule. You’re coming with me to be godfather and to sign the paperwork.”Colonnello, who had been innocently drinking coffee with Lal, spat it out and tried to hack out his lungs while at the same time run after Reborn, who walked fast.“Shit, no, you motherfucker don’t you dare kora!” he cursed.Lal, whose mouth had fallen open after Reborn had dropped several bombs, put down her coffee and tried to stop laughing. It took a while.In the meantime, Reborn continued onwards his journey, dogged by Colonnello’s shouts...Tsuna was determinedly ignoring his Hyper Intuition, who was telling him to open the window, and just doing his paperwork.After several minutes, Tsuna sighed and opened the window.Not a moment too soon, and then Reborn entered the office. Tsuna took it as an ominous thing when his tutor slammed the door shut on Colonnello’s face.“Ah, good morning, Reborn,” Tsuna greeted.“Tsuna,” Reborn said. “You’re not busy this weekend. Come to my house, we’re making you godfather to the second twin.”Tsuna realized the reason why his Hyper Intuition wanted the window open.He started to climb out of it.Nope.He was not going to be responsible for that spawn of chaos. It was too much responsibility. If he failed in tempering that chaos, he couldn’t, in good conscience, let it out into the world!And that was too much pressure!NO!The sound of a gun being cocked rang out and Tsuna froze.It was instinct.“Are you refusing?” Reborn said softly, like silk sliding over a knife.Tsuna felt all the hair stand up on his body. If he refused, he knew he would die.“Nope!” Tsuna felt his mouth say without his input. “I’ll be there to sign the paperwork.”Reborn smiled. Which. Umm. What.“That’s great, Hyacinth will be pleased,” the hitman said.“Why me?” Tsuna asked, short of begging.Reborn shrugged. “I don’t know why, but Hyacinth said something about…insurance.”Tsuna thumped his head on the carpeted floor. After a moment, Colonnello joined him.Both of them stared at the ceiling.“Fuck, kora,” Colonnello said.“Shit,” Tsuna said just as blandly...Contrary to the godfather situation, Hermione practically glowed when Hyacinth asked.“Me, to be godmother!” she squealed. “Of course! That would be wonderful!”Fleur, visiting, pouted. “Not me?” she asked.“I was going to pick you for the second twin, but Reborn asked me to pick the other godmother from his group,” Hyacinth soothed her. “If I have another child, of course you’re going to be the godmother, Fleur.”Fleur nodded, appeased. She accepted the second cup of tea gracefully.Reborn, of course, knew that if Aria wasn’t selected as godmother, there would be hell to pay.Aria was the master of passive aggressive and would probably make his life a living hell if he forgot her.“When are you due, Haya?” Hermione asked with some concern. Her friend’s stomach was very big and it was scary, with how slight she was.“Poppy said next month,” Hyacinth said.“Isn’t that a bit early?”“Twins always are,” Fleur interjected with that knowing air of mothers. “Especially with how small you are, Hyacinth.”Hermione hugged her friend. “You must be worried.”“That’s why I’m settling the godparent issue now. Reborn is great, but he shouldn’t be alone with a magical child,” Hyacinth whispered.Fleur hugged her other side. It took a while, but she finally stopped feeling cold...“Aria,” Reborn said as he entered her study without warning. “I know you know. Come to the house this weekend.”Aria stood up and beamed at her godfather. “You remembered! And of course I’ll be there; you couldn’t make me miss it for the world!”Reborn hugged her and left with a smile.
10047554	Trust	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Clary Fray, Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern \| Sebastian Verlac", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by orphan_account", "chapters": "3/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-02T00:00:00", "words": "7,564", "Additional Tags": "Rape/Non-con Elements, Imprisonment, Psychological Torture", "Relationship": "Clary Fray/Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern \| Sebastian Verlac", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV)", "Archive Warnings": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage Sex", "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Clary’s eyes fluttered open and she noticed that it was freezing in the room she was in. Her teeth chattered lightly and she felt strange. She looked down at herself and realized she was completely naked beside a sleazy looking nightgown. What the fuck was happening? She yanked on her hands but found they were bound to the bed. She sighed loudly. Just another day as your average shadowhunter she supposed. That was when it hit her, she couldn’t feel her legs. She panicked, why couldn’t she feel her legs? She looked down and she tried her hardest to make them move but they just wouldn’t. Maybe if she screamed? But that could alert whoever had put her here that she was awake… damn, and she had a good idea who put her here too. Sebastian. She let a whimper tear from her throat. She was scared and there was no one to help her. She looked around the room and saw a modern looking door she supposed lead out of the room she was in. The room she was confined to seemed to be a finished basement. There was a TV, a couple armchairs and a couch. It was a huge space. It seemed someone had haphazardly dropped a bed in the middle of the room for the sole purpose of imprisoning her. This had to be Sebastian’s work. A head of white-blonde hair stuck through the door and she screamed. “Oh good, you’re awake.” He said cheerily. “What the fuck Sebastian!” “Patience little sister.” He said jovially. “I’m so happy you’re here with me although I have to say you’re annoyingly well protected.” “Fuck you!” She bit back at him. “Temper, temper,” Sebastian said in mock playfulness. “Jace is going to come for me and he’s going to cut you into so many tiny----” But Sebastian swooped down and covered her mouth with his hand. She tried to bite him and successfully spit into his hand several times. “Sister you realize this behavior simply won’t do.” He removed his hand from her mouth and wiped his palm on his jeans. She screamed a bloodcurdling scream and he slapped her. “Clarissa you’re going to need to cooperate. I know you must want something warm to eat and drink and maybe a hot bath. I can provide those to you but you’re going to need to stop screaming.” She figured she could stop screaming long enough to eat something… but what if he drugged her food? What if he raped her while she was in the shower? It was too dangerous. She opened her mouth and screamed again. He let out an annoyed sigh and took out his stele. He drew a rune on each of her shoulders and the feeling left her arms. “You insane sonofabitch what are you doing to me!?” She screamed. Sebastian gave a kind of pained sigh and began untying her bonds. She tried to move her arms desperately but the feeling and her ability to move them had gone too. She was paralyzed from the neck down and completely at his mercy. Her throat was burning with the pain of screaming and she was frustrated. “I’m going to take you upstairs to the shower. I’m going to carry you.” He said very slowly as if she was mentally deficient. “Don’t touch me ---” But it was too late, he’d scooped her up bridal style and they were heading up the stairs to the main part of the house. He carried her gently to the bathroom which was right around the corner to the living room. He deposited her on the floor of the bathroom. If she could have kicked him she would have. Sebastian turned on the water and began running a bath for her. He dropped a bath bomb in when he was done. Great so not only was she going to be raped and tortured she was going to get a yeast infection too. “Do you want to use the bathroom before you get in?” She looked up at him. He was standing over her, arms crossed looking disappointed somehow. “Yes. But can I have some privacy?” He thought about it for a moment then scooped her up and deposited her on the toilet and closed the door. He waited until she called for him and then came in and put her in the bath. He began undressing and she let out a soft scream. “Sebastian don’t you dare! I swear to god I’ll light you on fire if you come near me with your ding dong.” He shrugged. “Then I guess you can drown in the bathtub.” He was right, she was having a hard time keeping herself upright and at this rate, she could fall face first into the water and not be able to get back up. “Ugh, fuck you!” She snapped at him. “Temper, temper, little sister. I’m trying to help you.” “Like hell!” She leaned her head on the edge of the bath. “See I won’t drown.” She could tell this didn’t satisfy him, though. He kept undressing and when he took off his shirt she stared up at him, a slight flush creeping into her cheeks. He was gorgeous . His whip marks on his back added a kind of… ruggedness to him that she felt a tingle in her core. He was ripped with muscle and she disgusted herself with her physical reaction to him. He took off his jeans and boxer shorts and it was like a car crash, she couldn’t help but look. She’d seen Jace’s… ahem… once before at the Bone Chandelier. He was big too but Sebastian… holy god. “Like what you see Clarissa?” He’d caught her and she felt like a fuckin idiot. The flush that had crept into her cheeks moments before deepened and she felt herself burn with shame. He easily maneuvered her to the front of the large claw foot bathtub. He extended his legs out and pulled her into his embrace. She felt she should scream. Just as she opened her mouth to do so he clamped it down on her again. “If you keep screaming I’m going to give you something to scream about.” Hot tears began to pour down her cheeks. “Sebastian please…” “Relax sis, this isn’t meant to be hard. It’s not exactly like I can just text your phone when I want to have brunch. You’re rather difficult to get a hold of.” “That’s how it’s supposed to be.” She sobbed. She felt his half hard cock against the small of her back and she wanted to reach around and rip it off his body. “Are you going to rape me now?” “No, not yet. I want you clean before I do anything of that nature.” Sebastian grabbed a loofah and spread a dab of purple shower gel onto the loofa before beginning to clean her arms and then her stomach and back with it. She sobbed quietly as he cleaned her. Through her sobs (he was now rubbing the loofa up and down her thighs) she said, “Why are you waiting? I know what you’re going to do!” Sebastian hummed and took out the shampoo. “No! Don’t! You’re going to tangle it!” she snapped at him. “My dear Clarissa, in the many years I have been showering with women you would think I’d have learned how to shampoo a woman’s hair without tangling it and yet, you have so little confidence in me.” She turned her head and spit in his face. It hit him right in the eye. She giggled lightly. Sebastian wiped the spit out of his eye and dunked her head under the water for a second. She came back up scared and gasping. “You could have drowned me!” She rasped, as she coughed the water out that she’d swallowed. “At this point, that’s turning out to be not such a bad idea ---- you know what, fuck it I won’t wash your hair.” He put his hands on either side of the tub and made to get out. “No! I’m sorry! You scared me!” Clary begged him. “I don’t want my hair to be dirty!” “Clarissa…” Sebastian said in a warning tone. “Fine but if you touch me without me touching you first I’ll just leave you here.” Clary nodded. He picked the bottle of shampoo back up and dipped her hair in the water. He massaged in the shampoo and rested her shoulders on his chest. Clary was surprised by how good he was at this. He massaged her scalp for at least five minutes before dipping her hair back in the water and rinsing everything out. He got out, dried off and scooped Clary out the claw foot bathtub. Her arms and legs felt like jelly and he toweled her off everywhere, even there . He spends extra time toweling off her long strands of hair and ran a brush through them. “I have food if you want it?” He offered. “I don’t think I have very many choices right now.” “So, so, true my dear Clarissa. I got you McDonald's.” “Ugh, Sebastian.” “What?” He says as he pulls clothes for her out of the cupboard. It looks like just a dress and bra. Clearly, he has no intention of allowing her to wear underwear. “How can you eat that crap?” Clary groaned. “I don’t make a habit out of it. It was on the way and I thought you would be hungry.” She pouted. If she was going to have to eat junk food she hoped it would at least be Chicken McNuggets or a cheeseburger with pickle. “What did you get me?” She asked. She didn’t want him to think she was cooperating but she’d been with him for at least an hour and he hadn’t tried to hurt her yet. As a matter of fact, her head still felt tingly good from the massage he’d given it. “A cheeseburger, and a medium fry, I got you a diet Coke too.” It sounded good to her, although she didn’t know how she was supposed to eat it all. Then again she didn’t know when her next meal would be so it might be a good idea to just eat it all and deal with the stomach ache it gave her. Sebastian fed her (hand fed her since she couldn’t use her arms) and brought her downstairs. He refastened her to the bed and used a strange looking rune to release the paralysis on her arms. She stretched her fingers making fists and releasing them. They felt like they were on pins and needles. “How’re you feeling?” He asked her. She did a mental body scan, she felt clean and full and maybe like she wanted to take a nap. “Fine.” “Good. I’ll be back tonight.” “Sebastian!” I protest. I can’t imagine being left here, tied up until tonight. “Sorry, I’ve got a world to burn down as you so eloquently put it.” He stepped out of the room and left her to count the ceiling tiles by herself. When he returned that night it was late. She was asleep when she woke up to his face hovering over her like a bad dream. “Sebastian!” She said in surprise. “Shush it’s late.” He settled his head on the spare pillow and wrapped his arms around her. “How the fuck am I supposed to sleep like this!” Clary said. “I imagine that you would just close your eyes and clear your thoughts. It’s three am.” He undid her arm restraints and curled in close to her. Since she had gotten here this morning (or she assumed it was this morning, she didn’t know how long he’d knocked her out for) he hadn’t done anything really weird to her. He hadn’t tried to rape her or do anything weird to her. She was scared and alone. She wanted to believe this was a temporary situation but given that this was Sebastian that was hard to believe. “Why aren’t you hurting me?” Clary asked her brother. Trying to peel herself away from his hard chest. “Because you’re my sister.” “That’s never stopped you before.” “True.” “What’s different about now?” “Go to sleep Clarissa.” She pulled herself out of his grasp and slept on the edge of the bed opposite him. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Clary woke with a start the next morning. She’d had the worst dreams filled with her brother and so many things she shouldn’t be dreaming about him. Sebastian wasn’t there. Her arm restraints were left undone but she still couldn’t feel anything in her legs. God, how long was he going to keep her immobile? She heard someone on the stairs and shuddered to think that Sebastian was here, ready to make her life a living hell again. She closed her eyes and when she opened them his angular face swam into view. “I was hoping I would wake up and find this was all a bad dream.” “Afraid not. I brought you breakfast, though.” He said, holding out a plate with a cinnamon bun on it to her. “This is weird Sebastian.” “What’s weird?” “You, being nice to me.” “I’ve never been mean to you unless it was to get you to see things my way. I don’t have to do that here because you know you can’t fight me.” “ Right. ” She said, there’s got to be a way to fight him. There’s gotta be something. He’s standing over her with his hips hanging over the bed. She could junk punch him but what would she do? She can’t run anywhere. She figured she better get on his good side before the junk punching commences. She took the plate with the cinnamon bun it was a little warm. “Did you get these from a bakery?” He looked at her like she was stupid. “No, you see I bake everything you eat fresh.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm and she rolled her eyes as she cut into the cinnamon bun with her fork. She picked up a piece and put it in her mouth. It tasted delicious. “So… what are you going to do to me today?” He toed off his shoes and sat with one leg tucked into his body. “I thought we could get you cleaned up and then go out?” “Go out?” She said, baffled. “Yeah, there’s a hill on the property we could go sledding on. It would be something brotherly of me to do.” “Except you don’t do brotherly things.” She said stubbornly. “I might. You never know.” “Sebastian, what’s the deal? You capture me and make it so I can’t move my legs by some magical rune and imprison me in this house but you haven’t done anything to me? What’s going on? Don’t we both have a war to fight?” Clary asked curiously. Maybe she was being too curious, you know curiosity killed the cat kind of thing, but it seemed like he was being as genuine as he could be. “What’s the deal?” Sebastian made an annoyed face. “You’re my sister. That’s the deal.” He inched toward her on the bed. “You know that’s not what I meant,” she said. He stuck his nose in the air with a feel of superiority and the overhead light cast light on his white-blonde hair making him seem truly angelic. “Sebastian ---!” “It’s no fun if I tell you what I’ve got planned for us, is it?” She didn’t like the sound of that ‘what I’ve got planned for us’ made it sound like some kind of long term torture instead of something shorter. Fuck’s sake. She’s got enough on her mind. She briefly reconsidered the junk punching. “Finish your cinnamon bun we’ve got things to do today.” He half snapped at her. “Don’t yell at me!” She snapped back. “Oh my fucking god! Shut up!” Sebastian roared. She was properly put in her place by that. She felt a shiver go down her spine. She set the plate with the remnants of her sticky cinnamon bun down and briefly, assessed what she was wearing. She was wearing a sheer nighty that looked more like a teddy than a proper nightgown. Clary briefly wondered if this was all for his amusement. “Why am I wearing this?” She asked him. “Because it looks good on you.” “Did you buy me clothes?” “Well, what was I supposed to do? You know all the clothes Valentine bought for your mother were destroyed when you ruined the apartment.” Clary could tell they were talking in circles. She wrapped her arms around his neck and said. “Take me to the bathroom I want to get cleaned up.” He obliged her and picked her up. They trekked to the bathroom and Sebastian deposited her on the floor. He did the same as the previous day and ran a bath and undressed her. He set her in the clawfoot bath and after undressing, climbed in behind her. His cock was half hard at her back and she thought maybe if she didn’t know exactly what was coming she might have tried to drown him since she had the use of her arms. She couldn’t stop what was coming, though. She knew enough to know that and her tears started to silently fall. “How’d you sleep?” “What does it matter to you?” She said obstinately. Trying to keep to keep the emotion out of her voice. He shrugged. She wondered if he was genuinely interested or just trying to make talk with her. “I thought it would be a good way to start a conversation.” “Sebastian, stop. You don’t really want to have a conversation with your little sister. I know exactly what you want.” She said with a distressed hiccup. Sebastian sighed. “Oh yeah, and what do I want?” “To rape me! I know that’s what you’re going to do eventually; hell you almost did it when we fought at your apartment.” She bit at him. He smirked slightly and she knew that he was going to try his luck with forcing himself on her now. “Clarissa, wouldn’t you like to at least try with me? Wouldn’t you like to know what it’s like to be with a real man? I know Jace has taken from you what I wanted most. You’re not a virgin anymore are you Clarissa?” Her heart sank. He didn’t know, she was a virgin and from the sound of it, he was going to make her give it up to him right now. Clary didn’t say a word but she could feel his length stiffening against her lower back. She was revolted, how could the idea of raping his sister turn him on? She resisted the urge to vomit. “Answer me! Are you a virgin?” Sebastian demanded. She let a soft sob escape her lips and she refused to answer. Sebastian’s hands snaked down from her waist and his index finger pressed on the pearl of pleasure located at the apex of her thighs. He pressed down and rubbed her in circles before sliding his hand down to her core and inserted one finger. Clary was overwhelmed with pleasure against her will and she could feel her brother’s length now rigid against her back. He knew her secret. “So apparently Jace doesn’t have the prowess I assumed he did,” Sebastian said triumphantly. She let another sob pry from her lips. “Sebastian don’t!” “From this day on I want to be clear with you. You will address me as Jonathan or Jonathan Christopher whenever we’re together and I will address you as Seraphina.” He took a stele which seemed to have appeared out of thin air and spun her around to face him. Just above her pubic bone, just before the hairless expense of her womanhood, he drew a rune. It burned like fire but once the rune had settled on her skin she couldn’t feel anything else. “What was that?” She said through her sobs. “You’ll find out what that was in due time,” Jonathan said with a wicked smirk. He pulled her toward him so she was straddling his hips. The head of his cock pressed gently into her core. “Please, Jonathan no!” He braced her against the head of his cock and gently pushed his hips upward into her as he brought her down onto him. Clary could feel how wet she was against her will and she hated herself for it. She didn’t know what that rune was for but she knew it couldn’t be good. Jonathan didn’t move for several moments as she grew accustomed to the tight sensation of him being inside her. Why was he being so gentle? Fuck. It felt good. Her own brother fucking her and damn even though it burned a bit it felt good. Her head nuzzled into his neck. She didn’t dare kiss him but when his hips started moving she let her hot breath ghost over his neck. Water sloshed as he fucked into her. “Damn sis.” He swore as he gently arched into her. The first few moments were tense and she wondered how badly he would hurt her. Would she bleed? She didn’t know but she didn’t want to find out. “Jonathan, no, please!” She said breathily. “Oh please, no one would believe that as a cry for help sister.” “Jonathan no!” She whimpered. It was half-hearted, though. He was being gentle with her and she couldn’t think straight enough to really resist him. He reached between them and fingered the soft nub between her legs and she squeezed her muscles down on him. “Please, Jonathan stop!” She whined breathily. He took it as encouragement and thrust into her a little harder. This time she couldn’t help the moan that fell from her lips. “Oh my god Jonathan.” He was fucking into her hard and playing with her pearl. She felt the coil of pleasure in her belly wind tight before it inevitably snapped. She saw white stars behind her eyes and her rapid breathing ghosted over his neck. He pulled her off him and carried her to the kitchen, still soaking wet. He wrapped her limp legs around his waist and walked her to the kitchen table. Dripping water (among other things) he laid her down on the table and slid back inside of her, earning him a loud moan. She thought maybe he had a stamina rune, which she saw on his bicep. He was getting rougher and rougher with her and she knew she would be sore and tired after this. Water from Jonathan’s chest dripped down into her mouth. They’d been doing this for a good hour and she was exhausted. “Please Jonathan, stop!” “No!” His thrusts became more erratic and his balls spasmed, pouring his second load into her. Slowly, his strokes became less frequent and less deep. Over what seemed like an hour he slowly stopped fucking into her. When he pulled out he disappeared into the bathroom and came back with a wet washcloth for them. “You bled a little.” He said, still catching his breath. She let out a whimper. She felt like she was sore as hell. What had been pleasurable perhaps two hours had long turned into pain and soreness. She was exhausted from the physical activity and as she closed her eyes on the kitchen table she thought of Jace and how she could never look him in the eye after that. “Get away from me.” She said miserably. He looked at her and quirked an eyebrow at her. “What makes you think I would leave you?” “You just raped---” He interrupted her. “You enjoyed it. Admit it! You moaned my name more than once.” It was true and she let her head hang in shame. How could she? She let him clean her up, bring her upstairs and get her into a navy blue dress, leggings and riding boots. There was a huge armoire in one of the rooms, stuffed full of clothes that would fit her. “I hate you.” She muttered under her breath, completely broken. “I don’t hate you, Seraphina.” “Yeah because I just let you ---!” She felt fresh tears burn her eyes as she said the words. “And don’t call me that!” “That’s right, you let me.” He rubbed it in. “That’s your name darling.” He purred. He flipped up her dress and pulled the top of her leggings down. She was laying on the bed and she thought she was going to be raped again when she felt the feeling in her legs return. They were sore and it felt a bit like she was trying to stand on toothpicks. She sat up, off the bed and felt a bit like a fawn trying out its new legs. She didn’t fall though and Jonathan took her hand to guide her to the next room over. When they were in the hallway, right by the top of the stairs, she felt good enough that she might be able to make a run for it. “Don’t even think about it Seraphina!” She thought about it. What if she tried now and he put up some kind of wards that made it harder for her to get out next time? Could he do that? She figured that while she had her legs she had better make good use of them. No, she would do as Jonathan asked and when the time came, she would steal his stele and take off into the night. She continued walking with him to the other room, still holding his hand as much as it revolted her. He sat her down in a huge bedroom that was elegantly decorated in reds, blacks, and dark woods. He opened his own armoire and pulled out a black dress shirt, dark wash jeans, and some dark boxers. He got dressed pretty quickly and asked her, “Are you alright to go down the stairs or you want me to carry you?” Her feet still felt like they were on pins and needles but she could manage it. “I’m fine.” They get down to the entryway and from a coat closet he pulled out two ski jackets. One bright white and pink and one black and blue. “Are you taking me skiing you know I’ll kill myself doing that.” She sighs as she puts that coat on. “No, I’m not taking you skiing I don’t want to kill us both.” He zipped up and made sure she was zipped up before handing her gloves and a hat. He threaded his gloved fingers into hers and made a rune with his stele against the door. He opened it up and we plodded out to the back yard. It didn’t seem like there were any houses near them and there was a fence which was pretty high climbing around them. It was made with electrum wire and she knew how badly it would hurt if she touched it. The snow was deep, so deep that it might have been a few feet there. “Where are we?” “Upstate New York. It snows here a lot more than in Brooklyn.” “Ok.” On the top of the hill, there were two plastic sleds, one blue and one pink. “You ready to go sledding?” “I guess.” The day passed in a whirlwind of snowballs, snowmen, and sledding. When the sun was getting ready to set she sighed with exhaustion. She was incredibly tired, especially after this morning. “It’s getting late Sebastian.” “Ok. You want to go in?” “Yeah.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- She woke with a start. Her head turned back and forth and she observed that she was in the finished basement of the house again. Her hands were still chained and Sebastian had put the special rune on her that made her unable to walk again.Her fingers were numb and she realized what had woken her up. She’d had a dream, she’d dreamed of twin ivory thrones and blood and death. She shook slightly, afraid that Sebastian with his sister at his side he would be unstoppable. She wanted to turn on her side but because her hands were chained that was impossible. She needed to go to the bathroom and Sebastian was probably upstairs dreaming away. “SEBASTIAN!” She howled. She called for him again and waited. Soon enough she heard the floorboards creaking as he made his way down the stairs and she sighed. “What’s wrong?” He groaned. She thought she vaguely heard birds chirping. “I have to go to the bathroom.” “Fuck ok,” Sebastian started doing the binds on her wrists and legs. He picked her up and he brought her to a small bathroom that was on the other side of the basement. He dropped her on the toilet and stepped outside. He made her bed again and looked at the clock, it was 5:13 am. Good grief. She called him and he picked her up and carried her back to bed. Clary was scared what the morning would bring. Would he rape her again? Was it even rape at this point? She was so fucked. “I’m cold.” She grumbled. He laid her down on the bed and tucked her in, “I’ll get you another blanket.” Should she thank him? “Thanks,” She said begrudgingly. He disappeared into a closet and came back with a fluffy down blanket. He put it over her and sat down on the edge of her bed and started re-doing her binds. “I’m going to crash here, I have to be up in two and a half hours anyway.” “That’s early.” She said as he finished up doing her bindings. “Shh.” He said as he curled into her side. When Clary woke the next morning she didn’t know what time it was only that Sebastian wasn’t there. She remembered him saying he was having an early morning so she shrugged it off. Still, she was hungry and wanted to put something on other than the sleazy teddy she was wearing. She called out for him, “Jonathan!” But to avail, she didn’t think he was home as she couldn’t hear his footsteps upstairs. She supposed spending the day in bed was… better than what they’d gotten up to yesterday. Hours passed, she began counting the ceiling tiles, the number of DVDs in the entertainment center. She figured it had to be mid afternoon and she was getting really hungry and thirsty, not to mention she needed to use the bathroom again. Finally, she heard footsteps creaking around upstairs. A fleeting part of her hopes that it’s Jace, and that he’s come to rescue her but her hopes are dashed when a bloodied Jonathan begins the trek down the stairs. He stops in front of her bed and shrugs lightly. His right eye is black and blue, he’s got cuts and scrapes on his face and it looks pretty bad. “Could you give me a healing rune?” She knows why he’s asking, her special gift of rune creation makes her runes especially powerful. He needs a healing rune and she needs food, water and a trip to the bathroom. “Get me some water first. You left me here all day unable to move.” He bites his lip and she wonders if he’s debating about apologizing. “The mission I was doing this morning ran late.” Clary scoffed. “Looks like you got your ass kicked.” “You might not be saying that if you saw the other guys.” “Guys? More than one person did this to you?” There was a slight hint of… curiosity in her voice. He sighed. “You know I can’t tell you anything… yet.” He handed her his stele and exposed the iratze on his forearm to her. She took the stele and paused, she could draw a portal and get the fuck out of here in an instant. He was sitting right there though surely he wouldn’t allow her to escape… She sucked in a breath and drew the iratze on his forearm. She closed her eyes and handed the stele back, hoping her eyes weren’t shining with tears as she felt her eyes burn. She felt like he was taking over her will to be free. He could never take her will to live but she knew something was changing inside of her. She watched and saw as the bruise on his eye turned from nearly black to a yellow-green color. His cuts and scrapes knitted themselves back together and she wondered what Jace would say to right now… that she was a traitor and shouldn’t be helping her brother. Still, she hadn’t had much choice in the matter. “Please help me now,” Clary begged him. He undid her binds and carried her to the bathroom. He waited for her outside the bathroom and when she hollered for him he went and got her. When they went upstairs she noticed she was staring directly at Phaesphoros, strapped to Sebastian’s back. “Is that Valentine’s sword?” She asked him “Mine now.” Sebastian scoffed. “You didn’t like father did you?” She said as he sat her down at the table and started making food for them. “I thought that was pretty obvious.” “It was, it’s just that I never understood why he beat you.” “It’s not something I really want to talk about.” Sebastian snapped Clary sighed. She’d been here going on three days and it felt like much longer than that. He was buttering bread for grilled ham and cheese sandwiches. He assembled the sandwich and turned the gas down. “Seraphina ---” “It’s Clary .” She snapped harshly at him. “Actually, it’s Seraphina,” Sebastian said, rage growing. “You’re such an asshat!!” Clary said, her own rage growing and she did not in the least care that she didn’t have the use of her legs. “Don’t fucking talk to me.” The sandwich Sebastian had been grilling was starting to smoke due to lack of attention. He turned his back on her, tossed the sandwich in the bin and started on a new one. “Sebastian please tell me why I’m here…” She whimpered. He buttered one side of a piece of bread and stuck it in the pan. The sandwiches were going to come out like shit no matter what he did. A heavy silence followed in the moments following. When the sandwich was done he scooped it onto her plate. “Eat.” He started on his own sandwich and she started eating. The next several minutes were very tense. Sebastian finally had his sandwich done and he sat down and ate it. They didn’t say anything to each other for a long time. There was a book on the table, Sebastian picked it up and started reading it. So this was how she was going to spend today? Sitting in silence? After about an hour of sitting there, staring at her brother she wanted to get up. “Sebastian, can I go back downstairs? If we’re just going to sit here then I’d rather go downstairs and sleep until you want to rape me again.” He looked up at his book. “What if I don’t want to rape you?” He put a scrap of paper in his book to mark his place. “What are you talking about?” Clary said, mildly bewildered. “Well, what if I wanted it to be consensual?” “I absolutely hate you, Sebastian.” Clary breathed. She sounded tired when she said it. She knew why he was asking this. She’d moaned his name several times the other day when they’d fucked. He smirked at her and took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You like it, you like it when I fuck you.” She pulled harshly out of his grasp and averted her eyes. “We’ve only done it once! Sebastian, you know every shadowhunter in the world is looking for us, don’t you want to do something to stop them?” “No,” Sebastian said simply. “I have an army of endarkened shadowhunters to do that for me. I have a mission tomorrow but is it really that bad to spend a little quality time with me?” Clary couldn’t be sure but he looked hurt. “Do you really consider this quality time?” Clary said shortly. “It could be? We could go outside again?” Sebastian suggested. “It’s freezing out I bet. This is the north, Sebastian.” She looked out the window and saw it was snowing. “It does snow a lot here.” “It does.” Sebastian agreed. “My book is getting pretty boring so I would be happy to go outside with you and throw snowballs at you. Or perhaps less wholesome activities are on your agenda?” “Don’t be disgusting Sebastian.” Clary snapped. “Is that what I am to you? Disgusting?” Sebastian asked. She wasn’t sure what to say. She was extremely angry with him for fucking her until she was sore the other day… but it wasn’t exactly his fault that he had demon blood was it? And that’s what was causing this, wasn’t it? If he was just a regular shadowhunter he wouldn’t be having these feelings, would he? “No. I’m just frustrated. Jace is probably worried out of his head.” “Jace knows you’re with me,” Sebastian said. “How?!” Clary exclaimed. “Is he coming for me?” “Of course he’s coming for you but he’s going to have quite the time of finding you. This place has wards.” “What kind of wards… exactly?” She said, trying to curl her body closer to him and placing her hand on his arm. “Well, wouldn’t you like to know!” He said with a laugh. Dammit, she’d thought she’d had him there. He got up from his place and something fell out of his back pocket and landed on her foot with a thump. “Ow---” He was already turning to see what it was that had dropped but she was faster. He had dropped his stele and she could see freedom right in front of her eyes. She leaned down and swiped the stele off the floor and grasped the stele she made the rune for a portal.She was expecting a portal to open up in the middle of the dining room but nothing happened. He stood there, putting their dishes in the sink. The whole thing was extremely anti-climactic. She’d been expecting her rune to open a portal and she could just leave here as a free woman. Sebastian began laughing. “Stop laughing!” She screamed at him. “You think I didn’t know you’d try to use the rune power and open a portal to God knows where?” Sebastian said, still laughing, a manic glint in his eye. “Sebastian!! God damn you!” She threw the stele at his head but he caught it. “Eventually you’re going to want me to trust you and that day isn’t coming anytime soon. Don’t you want me to let you out of this house? Someday you’re going to want clothes or to do something other than go in the back yard. I have to know I can trust you for that.” She stood up of her volition and screamed, “I hate you!” She realized she was standing. She had broken the rune that bound her legs. She lunged at him, screaming, “Let me go! Free me!!” and hitting him over the head. He didn’t fall when she put her full weight on him. He staggered, and re-balanced. Trying to peel her off of him. This was their first real fight and as Clary pulled back her tiny fist to punch him in the nose but he ducked her punch. He was so fast . “Sebastian! By the angel!!” She bashed him over the head with a plate from the sink. Until this point, he hadn’t really tried to fight her back but now she knew she had angered him. Maybe he was trying to get her to trust him for real and maybe he thought the best path to that was not hitting her when she hit him. This time they did fall to the ground. Sebastian’s white blond hair was littered with flecks of blood now. Clary had completely forgotten but Phaesphoros, the massive sword, was strapped to his back. He wrestled her so she was under him. With horror, she notices he’s hard, his dick is pushing into her thigh. He catches her by the throat and holds her down, cutting off her air supply. “Little sister, if you ever put your hand on me in anger again, I will make sure you lose the hand that touches me.” He said in a deadly calm voice. She spits in his face, hitting his eye. “I fucking hate you!” She snaps. He wiped the spit out of his eye and growled low in his throat at her. “If you hate me so much then I might as well do something to be worth your hate.” He pulled up her nightgown, pulled down her panties and released his hard length. “No Sebastian!” She screamed at him. “Yes, little sister!” She watched as he lined his hard cock at her entrance. There was a little voice at the back of her head telling her to wave the white flag, tell him she submitted to him. A slightly louder voice was telling her that Sebastian was particularly well endowed. And the loudest voice in her head reasoned with her… was sex such a bad punishment? He pushed into her and she wanted to scream. It’s not that it didn’t feel good, she was just tired of fighting him. No matter what she did, no matter how nasty she got this was the one time he’d shown any kind of aggression. The time in the bathtub she hadn’t really even been able to fight her, so he’d just taken her as she was. “Sebastian, no!” She wailed. He rutted into her and took her clit in his one free hand, teasing it slightly. He was starting out slow, trying to get her to want him. “Tell me it doesn’t feel good... Tell me you hate it and I’ll stop.” But she couldn’t she couldn’t tell her brother that this didn’t feel good. God she hated herself for it but the way he was touching her clit she couldn’t help a scream of pleasure and frustration. “I’m waiting… If you want me to stop now is your chance…” But she couldn’t tell him to stop. Jace had never made her feel like this, she moved her hands from where they were trying to wrestle Sebastian’s hands off her throat to his hips, gently encouraging him to fuck her. “I’ll be damned,” Sebastian said. “Shut up!” Clary said shrilly. A filthy little moan worked it’s way out of her lips and one hand went back to Sebastian’s hand. She squeezed his hand, signaling him to hold her neck tighter. “Squeeze my neck, or I’m going to scream.” He squeezed her neck as she requested. He squeezed her neck for a good minute until she was red in the face and then let her breathe. She was gasping, letting cool lungfuls of air fill her up as he rode her. “Fuck I hate you so much!” She screamed. “How much do you hate me? Show me, baby,” Sebastian purred in her ear. She slapped him across the face sharply. “Only that much?” He said lightly. There was a brightness to his eyes she hadn’t seen before. She slapped him again and she scratched her nails down his neck, he let out a little purr of delight. “Now we’re getting somewhere.” She wondered why violence made him horny. She wanted to be violent though, she wanted to take out her frustrations on him, take out every little thing about him that made her angry on him. He bit down hard on her neck, so hard he drew little droplets of blood. “Does that feel good little sister?” “Fuck yeah, it does.” She whined in his ear. He bucks into her several more times. She can feel he’s close can feel his strokes getting more and more ragged. “Harder Sebastian!” She screams at him. He puts his hand back down on her throat and squeezes as he fucks her. One, two, three strokes later he’s spilling into her. Clary is so close to cumming that just feeling the warm pool of his seed filling her pussy up makes her cum. She hadn’t realized it but she’d passed out. She’d been so exhausted from their session of fighting and fucking that her post coital haze had led to a post coital nap. The world swims into view as she begins waking up. Someone’s body is pressed up next to her. “Sebastian?” She asks into the dark room. “Mhmm. That’s my name don’t wear it out.” He says sleepily. “Sebastian! Want to explain to me what just happened?” “I think you know the answer to that.” He said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Ugh!” She said shrilly. “Hey,” He said softly, rolling over so he could face her. He cupped her face in his hand. They both could use an iratze. “I love you, Clary.” “No, you d---” “Don’t tell me how I feel.” “You’re my brother…” She said with a sigh. “I’m your brother and I love you, and someday you’re going to trust me.” She let out a long sigh. “I mean it,” Sebastian said.
10034885	Of Diamonds and	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Lance (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron), Hunk (Voltron), Shay (Voltron), Keith (Voltron), Matt Holt", "Fandom": "Voltron: Legendary Defender", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by HapSky", "chapters": "2/2", "completed": "2017-03-13", "published": "2017-03-01T00:00:00", "words": "3,299", "Additional Tags": "Merman Lance, Merman Shiro, Mer AU, Aquarium AU, Lance is a lil fish, Shiro is a huge orca, violinist keith, violinist Matt, greenpeace Hunk, greenpeace Shay, Fluff, musician au, Alternate Universe, Merlance", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Shance - Relationship, Lance/Shiro (Voltron)", "Series": "Child of Music, Child of Sea", "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 }	All Lance can do is nervously swim along his windows to try and catch a better look at what's happening outside his aquarium. Hunk is in a hectic haste, and so is every staff member. The visitors are being shooed around in various directions, and Hunk has his stern and serious face on. Shay has too, so this must be a more concerning issue, Lance can't follow, though. He swims around in the huge pools a little longer, waves at some kids in between, but then he decides it's time to hide in the more private section of his home, with no visitors ogling him through glass. Altea is built high up a cliff, near the ocean below, and Lance has a perfect view of the sun setting in a stunning shade of fiery orange behind an inflamed sea. The light illuminates his water and reflects in his collection of crystals. When Lance was first brought here, his aquarium was plain grey. Now it glitters and shimmers in many, many lively colours. Lance swims close to the high window, touches the cold glass with his right hand, so careful and tender, as if it could break under his fingertips. But Altea would never break. The sunset sparkles in Lance's wide blue eyes, matching in bright depth with the ocean. He gapes, entranced by the awakening nightfall. His blue and white and black fishtail and fin glisten in a golden gleam, his with scales freckled body as well. Really, this beautiful sight he baths in makes it hard to sulk. His friends will tell him soon enough, he hopes, why they are all in such turmoil. Maybe a new neighbour for Lance? A friend? Perhaps even someone of the merfolk? A few excited bubbles escape Lance's lips at the thought of a new playmate. The sun has vanished, and a dark violet covers the sky, the ocean turns into a black calm entity, the enchanting light seeps away. Now the crystals he decorated his room with are left without sparkling life, the little sanded cave he sleeps in lies dim and allures him to slumber. Lance doesn't want to go to bed, so he stares at it in a focused glare and listens. He knows it would be odd luck if he gets what he wants, but it's past dusk, and it wouldn't be all that unlikely, so he waits and listens. Waits and listens almost motionless, until some soft tunes reach his sensitive ears, and his whole face brightens as if lit up by the sun again. He all but shoots through the water, quick and agile movements and fast, he is oh so fast. When he reaches the stage, a big round pool, surrounded by many rows of seats, the cheerful and dreamy melody is echoing in the air and vibrating in the water. Two figures stand on the platform opposite to the tiers and play in perfect sync on their violins. Lance sits down on the pillar they had sunk in the centre, his upper body in the fresh evening air, his long tail gently moving to the rhythm under the surface, softly splashing the water. He hums a few chimes before joining the violinists with his singing. It's a song about fireflies, and although he never saw them it is one of his favourite songs, especially when played in a duet by Keith and Matt. Hunk tried to explain what they are, tiny lightning bugs floating through the sky, but Lance couldn't imagine them. He wishes he could see them one day. The mild and merry sound of the violins fills the air, entangled with Lance's clear and mellow singing voice. He loves to sing, and he loves to sing alongside those two, be it for practice, in the late hours of the day when no one listens but the stars about their heads, or for a show at daytime, when the tiers are packed with visitors, cheering loudly at their performance. He also loves to just listen to the violinists, hidden in a niche, tucked away from curious eyes. He just loves Matt and Keith themselves. He tells them so when the last tunes are played and have faded away, and he has hoisted himself up the stage, watching them laugh in happy contentment at his confession. “We love you too, Lance,” Matt snickers and ruffles his wet hair. “Glad you're doing fine,” Keith agrees with a soft little smile. They love to perform with Lance, too. Out of all their tours, all the places they have been given concerts at and will give concerts at in the future, Altea will always be their favourite. It has an inspiring atmosphere to it, free and strong and full of live. Not like the aquarium Lance has been at before. Keith remembers Baku all too well, and he shudders in deep scorn for that disgusting place. “So glad you're fine, now,” he repeats. Lance smiles too, he blinks at him, blinks some tears away. “Me too...” he whispers, absently stroking the maimed end of his left arm, where his hand used to be. “Uh, by the way!” he switches to another topic. “You guys know what's up with all the serious faces today?” he asks and slaps his fin over the surface, careful to not accidentally shower the precious violins with water droplets. “If I'm not mistaken, Hunk found a wounded orca stranded on the beach and brought him here to take care of him,” Matt answers and shrugs his shoulders. Then his eyes start sparkling mischievously, he glances at Keith with an impish grin on his lips. Keith instantly copies Matt's expression and finishes his explanation. “Didn't he, like, lose his right arm or something?” he smirks. Lance's face carries a wide range of emotions. From confusion to slowly realising the meaning behind Keith's words, to happy excitement to a scowling pout to a worried gaze at last. “I'm off to find Hunk,” he declares and disappears into the water, leaving the violinists behind with knowing smiles tugging at the corners of their lips. Intertwining their hands, they take their leave too, just as eternally grateful as Lance, for having been able to save him. Lance knows the infirmary of Altea very well, but knows better than to jump over the small barrier separating the little pool from the main aquarium. He once again heaves himself out of the water, eyes searching for his friends, or the vet, or even the orca merman himself. And as soon as his eyes land on said merman, Lance knows it's him. That's the one. Love at first sight. Ugh. Lance's nose scrunches up, that poor thing is injured and he doesn't even know him, he really shouldn’t dump random feelings on him the very first time they meet. Still very irritated by his thoughts about the other merman, he doesn't notice Hunk approaching until he speaks up. “Hey Lance...” Hunk kneels down beside him. “Who's that?” Lance wants to now, still staring at the unconscious merman. Hunk sighs exhausted, “Don't know his name, but he's a tough guy. A brave one... could've died from shock alone, blood loss and loss of his arm aside. So many scars scattered over his whole body... But he's doing great over there, he'll make it...” They sit in silence. Lance watches the vet and staff members do their best with a distant expression, Hunk can't tell what's on his mind. He remembers Lance's arrival, and an idea pops up. “Hey Lance! Do me a favour?” he asks in a light and friendly tone. “Take care of him when he wakes up, okay? Keep him company, show him around and such... Make him feel at home, can you do this for me?” Lance nods more seriously than Hunk had anticipated, but maybe Lance is right about taking this seriously. He knows best what it is like, being caged in an aquarium all alone. And orcas aren't usually on their own, normally they have a strong bond towards their mother line, and don't grow up in captivity like Lance has. This one knows deep water and endless oceans, the wild sea. He probably won’t want to stay here forever, maybe he'll go back when he has recovered. But until then, he'll find a welcoming home in Altea. Lance nods again, “I will.” It takes two long days of waiting, Hunk's nerves are wrecked. The orca made it, though, just as he had said he would. Didn't stop him from worrying. He honestly wonders how Lance can be so calm and reserved, he had expected him to burst from anticipation and to whine annoyingly about how long it was taking. But his friend is strangely silent, if his usual escapades can be called silent, that is. Lance swims slowly towards the gate of the infirmary, knowing that it'll be lowered soon to let the other merman into the aquarium. He hears the chatting, hears the vet's quirky voice. He hears the creaking of the gate. Hears his heart pounding loud and fast in his chest. He takes a deep breath through his gills. A brave one… with so many scars... Lance sees the other tentatively moving towards him, and Lance sees the grey scars on his gigantic black and white body, sees the cut in his fin, sees the big scar across his left shoulder and sees the scar across his nose. Sees the stump that's left of his right arm. Lance swims over to him, a little pretty fish next to a giant whale, but Lance smiles, soft and tenderly. “The name's Lance,” he holds out his one good hand. “Let me show you around, hot shot,” he says with a voice so sincere, it's hard to be flustered about the flirting. “Shiro,” the orca answers and takes Lance's hand with his left, smiling back a bit dazzled. Lance goes slowly, stopping here and there, interacting with the visitors. Waving at them, or showing off some tricks. He tells him tales and anecdotes about everything and anything that had happened at the current place, but when they reach Lance's room, his happy rambling comes to a halt. Shiro looks out the window, as if entranced with something very far away and out of reach. Lance hands him a necklace with a little diamond pendant. “It shines when light gets entangled in it...” he says quietly. He helps Shiro with putting it on, they both may have only one hand, but it makes two if they work together. “Thank you,” Shiro finally smiles at Lance. “For your gift, and for showing me around. Altea is... It's beautiful,” he plays with the diamond in his hand. Altea has riffs, has deep pools, it almost feels like home. It's beautiful. Lance chuckles. “Just like you, huh?” he flirts, but saves Shiro from answering when he sees the other blushing. “Stay here, for a while... okay? And call me if you need anything,” he winks and leaves Shiro in his room. It's okay, he doesn't have to see the ocean, doesn't have to watch his crystals come alive with endless colours and bright light. Shiro can have his refuge for a while. He swims back to the stage, but he doesn't feel like singing today. Maybe when Matt and Keith show up. The sun is still shining, it's still afternoon, too early to go to sleep. Lance curls into himself a little, in a corner on the ground, curls around his left arm protectively. He can't cry under water. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Shiro can't cry under water, so all he can do is watch, overwhelmed and helpless, watch speechlessly how the sun's rays fill the beautiful sea below with their energy, how they enlighten the water around him, how they let him get engulfed in dancing colours. The little diamond shines bright, and so does Shiro's black and white tail and fin, his entire scarred body. He was charmed by Lance's open-hearted and cheerful nature, thankful for his friendliness. He had assumed Lance to be kind and pretty and harmless. They’ve known each other for just a really short time, half a day maybe, and Lance already managed to both surprise Shiro and to touch his heart. He hasn't thought much of it, when Lance told him to stay here for a while, but Lance knew. Knew about the magic that seems to happen in his refuge at nightfall, knew about how wounded not only Shiro's body was, but about how shattered his soul has been and how it had needed silent, tender treatment like this. Lance must have known, letting Shiro have this little moment of warmth and mirth would do him some good. Shiro smiles. The sea he knows is dark and dangerous, he would even call it malicious. It's lonely and exhausting, every day, every moment could be one's last. The sea never rests, the sea never dies. Shiro has wandered various places, has watched countless skies. The sea had never let him find happiness. Lance's sea up here, in Altea, is gentle and welcoming, forgiving. And Lance had decided to share it with him, this place to call home. The sun has set yet again, but Shiro still feels the light's lively energy echoing in his chest, feels a pulsing sensation, like trembling flames. He had witnessed a burning sea once, an oil pollution set on fire. He never had thought of it as a good thing to happen, but had been fascinated with this foreign element. The hot feeling surging within him now feels similar to that firestorm, feral and untamed, something beautiful that shouldn't be, leaving him breathless. Shiro gasps, choking on the air he had been holding. He surfaces, coughs and shivers and gulps down several times. Looking up, he sees a semi-dome of clear glass, protecting Lance's room from rainfall. Its open side faces the ocean, just as the high windows. Shiro wonders, does Lance long for the sea? Is he... not happy in Altea? Because, Shiro finds he is. Shiro feels at peace, feels at home in the little pretty fish's home. He tries to make himself comfortable in the small cavern, but he doesn't fit in there. When he swims around in the aquarium in search for Lance, he hears a melancholic melody floating through the air and through the water. Deep, soothing tunes reaching for the sky, two rhythms entangled with each other in effortless affection. He doesn't know the song, doesn't know these instruments. They aren't instruments the sea would play, a tale the sea wouldn't tell. When he finds Lance, a shiny ball of sparkling scales, hiding in an open corner, he doesn't hesitate to curl himself around him. His huge figure looms over Lance, who looks at him in surprise. He opens his mouth, but no sounds come out. He wordlessly nestles up to Shiro and they listen to the foreign melody together. Lance toys with the little diamond in thoughtful manner. “The song the violins play...” he whispers after a while and hums a few bubbles, then starts singing. It's mesmerizing, Lance breathes through his gills while he sings without air, just vibrating the water. Lance sings so only Shiro can hear. Soon the tunes change into something lighter, a more carefree and happy song. Lance has his eyes closed, sings with a smile gracing his lips. And Lance keeps singing him lullabies, the soft chimes of the violins long gone. The next day, Shiro tells Lance the story behind each of his scars, tells him about clan rivalries, about dangerous hunts and deathly fights. The sea is deep and cold and endless, merciless with its inhabitants. Lance tells him the story of his lost hand in return, it's not only the sea that's harsh. Hunk calls out for them, and when Shiro is back in the infirmary, Lance leans his upper body over the edge of the pool and watches intently. Hunk feels edgy under his burning gaze. He's examining Shiro, checking on the healing progress of his wounds. “Seems pretty okay,” he states contently. “Wounds like those need time to heal, but with proper treatment there shouldn't be any problems with that.” Lance though isn't satisfied with only 'pretty okay', he lets out a displeased huff and slaps his fin across the water. “Come on, man!” Hunk sighs, “Give him some slack.” Lance only huffs again, averts his eyes and mutters a pouting, “'m just worried, 'kay,” then he submerges and swims away. Hunk continues tending to Shiro in silence, but when he is finished and Shiro is back in the pool, he hears a small voice asking a shy question. “Can I stay?” Shiro asks, eyes filled with unspoken wishfulness. It's baffling, to hear such little words coming from such a big creature like Shiro. “Stay... at Altea?” Hunk kneels down to be on eye level with him. “Sure, if you want to... I mean, I can't decide that, but I don't think anyone would mind you staying here,” he reassures Shiro, who seems to be relieved at that. A little relieved, he's still nervously fidgeting around. “...Lance too?” he mumbles bashfully. Hunk laughs openly, shakes his head and stands up. “You like Lance, huh?” he grins. Shiro stares at him and slowly nods, blushes, then hides his face behind his hand. Hunk barks a laugh again. “Aww! You're cute, dude!” he smiles warmly when Shiro looks up. “I'm sure Lance doesn't mind you staying at Altea, Shiro. But... are you sure about this?” Shiro follows Lance quietly. The wind slowly starts changing from soft breezes to nasty squalls, gloomy clouds arise in the distance. Shiro seeks shelter in Lance's room, where the other rests in his cave. Shiro glances at him, but decides to not disturb him, and lingers by the windows, pondering thoughtfully. He watches the fierce sea, lashed by the beastly weather. He is safe, in Lance's refuge, but he remembers how it feels like, to get tossed around by ruthless waves. Hunk hadn't put his question into words, but it rings in Shiro's head nevertheless. Is he sure he doesn't want to return to the ocean? He can see it, from up here, but he would never reach it if he stayed. What is even there to reach? When Shiro closes his eyes, he can see tan skin and colourful scales. A lighthearted smile. Curious eyes looking at him. It doesn't matter that Lance has no left hand, that he is only half the size of himself, that Shiro will miss the adventurous journeys to faraway regions, miss the taste of a lively sea, miss the other travellers he could encounter. He swims over to the cave. “Lance?” he addresses him cautiously. Lance twists his agile body, opens his eyes, worry glitters within them. “Do you like the ocean?” Shiro asks. Lance furrows his brows and thinks about it. “Yes,” because the sea is beautiful. “And no,” because the sea is also gruesome. “Do you?” he asks back, even more cautiously as Shiro had asked him. “Yes,” Shiro answers, because he is a child of the sea. “And no,” he answers, because that doesn't mean the sea is his home. Hunk has no chance to check on Shiro again, no chance to get his response, but he figures he doesn't have to. Shiro seems perfectly fine with Lance at his side, they seem happy, and full of live. “Just look at 'em,” he laughs at Shay. “Lance is so small next to Shiro...” Standing on the edge of the pool Shay smiles downwards, where the silhouettes of their friends shimmer dimly through the water. “Oh, hush!” she chuckles. “He finally found someone with a heart as honest as his own...”
10035458	Weekly Traditions	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "BoBoiBoy (BoBoiBoy), Gopal (BoBoiBoy), Fang (BoBoiBoy), Yaya (Boboiboy), Ying (BoBoiBoy)", "Fandom": "BoBoiBoy (Cartoon)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by UpAmongTheStars", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-01T00:00:00", "words": "535", "Additional Tags": "the team can't pick a movie, that's it that's the fic, basically a friendship fic because we need more of them, someone pls join me in writing these things, i love the kids and want to see them happy", "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 }	Movie night was one of the best ideas the gang had come up with.“Gopal, we are not going to marathon Sherlock again.”“But why?!”At least before it came to this.Boboiboy grabs the popcorn bowl and takes a seat at the corner of the sofa, sighing as Fang explains for the umpteenth time. “You just made us watch everything last week!” Fang’s tone is incredulous as he points accusingly at the three disks in Gopal’s hands.“But we have to watch in honour of the new season,” Gopal whines before shoving the disks back in Fang’s face. Boboiboy can see Fang’s irritation flare up as he slaps the CDs away; he’s about to intervene when Yaya beats him to it.“Why don’t we watch an action movie?” she asks, successfully making the two boys pause. Fang raises a brow at her, saying, “Is it going to be another Marvel film?”“I was thinking about Mission Impossible. Ying?”Yaya turns to her best friend, who startles at the sound of her name. Ying gives her a sheepish smile and raises the case she’d been eyeing, saying, “I was thinking about The Hobbit, but that’s good, too?” Gopal rolls his eyes at that and says, “See, this is why we should stick with Sherlock.”“You - !”Boboiboy huffs and lifts the popcorn off his lap, sliding off the couch to walk towards the DVD player. In the background, he can hear Gopal and Fang arguing again, with Yaya and Ying occasionally offering movies that are complete opposites, which makes the cycle repeat.Unconsciously, he sticks out his tongue as he rifles through the cases faster.“A-ha!” he cheers when he finds what he’s looking for, and suddenly the noises behind him stop. Boboiboy barely has time to blink before Gopal leans over his shoulder, asking, “What’d you find?” Fang leans over his other shoulder and squints at the case, reading, “Tomorrowland?”Boboiboy hums, nudging them away so he can face them all properly, and says, “Since you guys like different movies, I thought you’d be okay with one that has a little of everything with it. So I picked this one.” He holds the case out and smiles, waiting for their answers.“Well,” Fang considers, “It does have action.” He turns to Yaya, who nods and adds, “It also has a fantasy vibe to it.” They look at Ying, who grins and says, “Not as much as the sci-fi vibe, but it’s okay.” Finally, they all turn to Gopal, who’s now holding the case and frowning at it.“It’s not Sherlock…”Fang opens his mouth to protest, but Boboiboy holds his arm out in front of him. He frowns at the other, who gives him a look that says, ‘Wait for it.’“… but I guess it’s fine.”The girls cheer and start making their way towards the couch, while Fang rolls his eyes and settles on the carpet. Gopal grabs the popcorn bowl and leans against the foot of the sofa as Boboiboy starts up the DVD player. Disk placed inside, he grabs the remote and takes a seat between Fang and Gopal.Just another movie night, he thinks, smiling to himself as he presses play.
10030964	Jessies Girl	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Original Female Character(s), Reader, Bobby Singer, John Winchester", "Fandom": "Supernatural", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by italiandancer1275", "chapters": "12/12", "completed": "2017-05-17", "published": "2017-03-01T00:00:00", "words": "13,341", "Additional Tags": "Supernatural Elements, University of Arizona, Tucson, Arizona - Freeform, College, college girls, Reader-Insert, Hunters & Hunting, Hunters, POV Female Character, Fluff, Impala, Baby, Furies, Season/Series 03, Winchesters - Freeform", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Sam Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You, Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Sam Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Sam Winchester/You, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester/You, Dean/You, Sam/You", "Series": "Supernatural", "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 }	Tucson, Arizona. A college age girl is walking to her apartment from campus. She has her headphones in listening to "Bleeding Love". She has shoulder length brown hair, glasses, and a letterman’s jacket on over jeans. A streetlight begins to flicker and she takes her headphones out as she looks up at it. Thinking nothing of it, she places her headphones back in and continues walking. It is a cold night and she begins to shiver as she crosses her arms over her chest. A second shadow is seen behind her. She stiffens and becomes suspicious as she gets a hunch that someone is following her. She moves one hand down to the pepper spray keychain she keeps on her belt loop. She walks faster and when she feels her stalker is close enough, she whips around and sprays. No one is there. She gives a halfhearted laugh at her paranoia and turns back around to continue to her apartment. As she turns, her assailant is in front of her. A scream is heard and then an abrupt silence. All that is seen is her corpse hitting the cement, throat slit and blood spilling out.SUPERNATURAL ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The Impala parked somewhere in Tucson as Sam and Dean exited it. “Feels good. Don’t it, Sammy.” Dean locked the car, his statement breaking the silence. “What’s that?” Sam questioned. “Being back. Mr. College boy has to know his way around a campus. Tell me, how do I find the best Sorority?” Sam rolled his eyes. “Dean, I went to Stanford. It wasn’t exactly known as a party school. U of A has an entirely different reputation. Why are we even here anyway? You’re going to hell Dean, don’t you think we have bigger fish to fry? One girl got her throat slit. That doesn’t exactly suggest our kind of thing. Please tell me there are other reasons you picked this case than…” Sam trailed off as he noticed that Dean was no longer paying attention. A college girl had jogged toward them wearing skintight yoga pants and a tank top. A vanilla scent seemed to smack both boys in the face as she passed them. She had only taken a few more steps when Dean looked to Sam and grinned. Quickly jogging toward her, Dean tapped her on the shoulder, forcing her to stop and face him. She took her headphones out and looked suspiciously at him. “Hi, sorry to interrupt your workout. I’m a big supporter of exercise. An even bigger one of yoga pants (he winks), but do you think you could point me in the direction of the student union?” The girl looked to Dean, then the impala, and lastly glanced at Sam. She froze for only a second until her face quickly relaxed and she smiled. “Yea, no problem. Make a left on 4th, a right on University and follow it all the way to campus. It’s a big grassy knoll, you can’t miss it.” Dean flashed her a smile and she returned it with a nod as she jogged away, Dean’s eyes on her ass the entire time. Even Sam suddenly seemed to get very interested in the University brochure he had in his hand. It was a damn good ass. Not huge, but toned to the point that it stood out, in both senses of the word. Dean laughed as he strutted back toward Sam. “So I was right. We’re here for the college girls. You’re an idiot.” He stated simply, as he and Dean made their way to the campus. “I’m the idiot? Tell me Sam, how interesting was that brochure you suddenly couldn’t take your eyes off of?” Sam’s cheeks turned a dark shade of red as he looked down and continued walking, brooding over the fact that he had been caught. Dean simply grinned, knowing he had won that one. Hey, it didn’t happen often. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- God, why did this case have to be in Tucson? At a college, no less. Your college. True you’d only done two years, but that was enough to scar you for life. You could practically hear your mother’s voice chastising you for picking hunting over an actual life and college education. You allowed yourself to feel guilty for only a second until you remembered what you were actually doing here. The crime scene had been cleared and the school classes cancelled, giving you a perfect opportunity to check it out. What you found was less than helpful. All you seemed to see were the bloodstains and a bit of sulfur nearby. You noticed a couple of Frat dudes walking by and shaking their heads at the tragedy. You took the opportunity to interrogate the guys and get a bit more information on the vic. Patricia Ramos was the whole reason you were in this depressed, sex-crazed, stressfest of a hellhole in the first place. You thanked the frat dudes for pointing you in the direction of Ramos’ place and made your way there.You had history with this town. Posing as a Fed would be too risky. True, it was five years ago, but you couldn’t risk someone recognizing you as you’d built somewhat of a reputation for yourself in your time here. Not a pleasant one either. Hey, once a delinquent always a delinquent. And that was even before your hunter ways got the best of you. Normal was just too hard. Well, once you scratched that itch, it opened the floodgates. You always got the job done, and the bastard vaporized, but it did bring a certain amount of unwanted attention. Authorities were still trying to piece together what you had done to Mr. Dunn’s Chem lab, sophomore year. Regardless, without your Fed ruse, there was no way you were seeing that body. However, you did manage to use your skills to break into the local PD and gain access to some security footage and notes on the case. The murder was premeditated. Since you couldn't investigate yourself, this seemed to be the best you were gonna get. “You’re just going to blend in with the locals”, you thought as you squeezed your ass into a pair of yoga pants and a tank top. It really wasn’t that uncomfortable, quite the opposite. But they weren’t exactly hunter friendly. While you were used to men staring at your ass, the yoga pants only amplified it. On any normal day, you wouldn’t mind. It was actually kind of an ego boost. But it was really hard to do your job and break into an apartment with half the dogs on campus staring at you. Your best way to seem normal was to act like some Sorority bimbo. Sighing, you plugged in your headphones and began to jog down the street.A million thoughts were running through your mind. A slew of old memories from your time here were flooding back. You continued jogging, each step in beat with the song in your ears, “Back In Black”. Your love for classic rock stemmed from your father, but let's not talk about him at the moment. Or ever, for that matter. You were focused on your music and the landscape, counting each tree as you passed it and reading each street sign to make sure you were headed in the correct direction. You were so distracted with the combination of the memories and your current route that you passed two men and thought nothing of it. It was kind of a rookie move, not surveying your perimeter. You jogged a few more paces before something tapped your shoulder. Quickly whipping around, you caught the gaze of one of the men you passed. Pulling out your earphones, you studied his face. Holy friggin’ crap. This was Dean Winchester. Bobby had told you stories of the Winchesters and you’d recognize that cocky attitude and leather jacket anywhere. Not to mention the infamous impala was parked right down the street. God, She was prettier in person. You shifted your focus to check out the guy’s buddy. That must be Sam. Skater boy hair and towering over the rest of the world wasn’t an easy combination to mistake. It was then that you realized Dean was saying something to you. Crap, he pegged you as a hunter. You began formulating excuses in your mind so as to get away from these two. Bobby had mentioned that though he loved those boys like family, they were nothing but trouble, and you did not need trouble right now. Not to mention he'd tear you a new one for even talking to them. Oh thank god, he was only asking for directions. Your cover was safe for the moment. He had no idea. Keeping in line with your cover, you gave him the answer he was looking for and flashed him a smile. Plugging your earphones back in, you jogged off, knowing that there were eyes on your ass. Maybe yoga pants were a good thing.Analyzing the chances of meeting the Winchesters was just going to have to wait until later. You arrived at Patricia’s apartment complex and looked around. It was about eight in the morning, the perfect time slot when most every college student was still asleep, so the place was pretty deserted. You found her door and slipped the lock pick you kept in the waistband of your pants out of its fabric home. Taking one last glance around, you did what you do best; picked the lock. You had the door open in under four seconds and quickly shut it behind you. Flipping on the light switch, you did a quick scan of the place and your eyes immediately flitted to one area near your feet. There was absolutely nothing to indicate anything was wrong in the room except for the two quarter-sized yellow piles of sulfur to each side of you. You’d recognize that smell anywhere. Demons. A brief flash of anger clouded your vision, but then the silver lining showed. At least you knew what you were up against. You switched the light off and left the apartment. You needed to make a plan. A smart one. As far as you could tell, two piles, two demons. Game on, bitches. But first, alcohol. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Sam and Dean had all but exhausted themselves talking to the locals and catching up to speed with the cops. There were no witnesses that night and as far as the police were concerned, it was personal. They had their hands tied investigating old boyfriends of the victim, which actually worked in Sam and Dean’s favor, as it kept them out of the way. Still, it was for the best. No one needed to know what was really out there. The only person who had a remotely helpful clue for this case was the cleaning man who had to deal with the mess the next morning. In his interview, he told the brothers, “I never seen so much blood.” But that wasn’t the part of his testimony that they were interested in. No, what caught their attention was the small detail that the man let slip: “There was something next to the body. Flour or something. But Yellow.” “Did it have a smell? Maybe like rotten eggs?” “Exactly! Smelled awful!” Bingo. Sulfur only fits one freak. Looks like work for today was done. At least the field work. The boys still had to check John's journal and some other lore for the certain kind of demon they were up against. It might help them find a motive and therefore, the next target. In hindsight, opening hell's gate and freeing a multitude of black-eyed freaks sure was coming back to bite them in the ass. However, they still had time for a pit stop. Sam and Dean found themselves at a joint called ‘Dirtbags’. Despite the name, the place wasn’t half bad. It was certainly better than the first bar they tried. At least in Sam’s eyes. Who would’ve known what looked like a hole in the wall joint, turned out to be a drag queen club. And boy were they loving Sam. Dean, of course, was of no help and simply sat back to enjoy the view and laugh his ass off. Needless to say, they got out of there quickly. Per Sam’s demand, the next place couldn’t even be on the same street as IBT’s. Dirtbags was decently filled and both boys were on their second beer. The stool to the right of Dean found itself soon filled by the owner of a sultry voice, who spoke up. “Hey Charlie, can I get a double?” The bartender flipped around, nodded, and poured the pretty girl a drink with a smile. “Thanks babe.” She lifted her drink in a mock “Cheers” toward Charlie and downed it, flipping her chestnut hair while doing so. That’s when it hit Dean. A vanilla scent that prompted his memory. Holy hell, this was yoga pants. From this morning. Only she wasn’t in typical jogging wear. No, this version had on light wash skintight jeans, heeled ankle boots, and a leather jacket that hung over a loose-fitting grey tank. It was like night and day from the girl he’d met that morning. He liked a woman who could pull off the whole multiple personality thing. Damn, he didn’t think it was possible, but her ass actually looked better like this than in the yoga pants. Target acquired. Chicks dig Feds. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You uncrumpled the small piece of paper you friend Charlie had given you with the address of the bar he was working at. Charlie was an old friend, and a damn good hunter. Retired at the moment, but you knew he’d get back out there eventually. He was the whole reason you were back in Tucson in the first place. Suspicious of demon activity, he gave you a call, as you knew the area well. If he played his cards right, he could probably be the West coast version of Bobby Singer. But for now, you’d have to accept him as a bartender. You stood outside a place called ‘Dirtbags’. Walking in, you spotted Charlie behind the bar and took the stool closest to him. Charlie knew your pre-hunt drink was always bourbon and poured you a double. It was downed as fast as it was poured. As you were setting your glass down to signal for another, a gritty voice interrupted your evening. “Now I just gotta know the name of the girl who can handle a double like that.” Extremely used to being hit on, you rolled your eyes and turned to look at this harasser. What you saw caught you off guard. It was Dean Winchester. Again. Man, your perception skills were really getting rusty. You kept hearing Bobby's warning for you to stay away from them ring in your head, but you couldn’t help it, you were damn curious if the man and his brother lived up to the stories. From what you'd heard, they were kind of screw ups, but still damn good hunters. You decided to break your rules, just this once, and talk to this one. “Y/N. And you are?” Dean flashed you a smile as he pulled out a fake badge from his rented suit. “Agent Tull and my partner Agent Lee. But you can call me Dean. And this here's Sam.” You almost felt bad for playing along with the lie. Almost. “Feds. Impressive. What brings you two to Tucson?” Sam cleared his throat. “We’re uh, in the middle of an investigation.” This was the first time Sam had spoken to you. “Ah, Patricia Ramos, I assume?” Neither of them shifted in expression. “So yes.” You said conclusively. Dean tilted his head and leaned in a bit. “Friend of yours?” You tilted back slightly, just enough for him not to notice. “You could say that.” At this point Charlie had poured you another double and set it down in front of you. “Well, I’m sorry for your loss.” Nodding your head slightly and looking down, "Yea, me too." You picked up your drink and “cheersed” the boys in Patricia’s honor. True you didn’t know the girl, but no one deserves to go out like that. Deciding that your little experiment had played itself out, you realized that you had more important things to do. “Well, it was nice meeting you gentlemen.” You stood up and slapped your cash on the bar for Charlie. Dean moved to stop you but you left before he could say anything more. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dean and Sam sat dumbfounded, watching the vanilla-scented girl leave the bar. Coming back to reality, both brothers noticed the same thing. There was a little tan rectangle on the floor directly under the chair that Y/N had just occupied. She must’ve dropped her ID. Looking up at each other, both Winchesters said simultaneously, “Dibs!” Sam gave Dean a disapproving look. “Dean, we have to give it back.” “And I will. There just may be some strings attached.” “You’re holding it for ransom?” “I don’t think getting frisky with me is a crime Sammy.” “Dean.” “Sam.” Seeing as the boys were at an impasse, a tiebreaker was needed. Sam raised his fist, as did Dean, both men rising from their stools. The air tensed around the bar. They were going to settle this like men… With good old fashioned rock-paper-scissors. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- You struggled to get your motel keys from your jacket after parking your car. It was a 1992 Jeep Wrangler Sahara. Nothing special, but hey it was pretty cool to have a Jurassic Park mobile. I mean, sure you’d prefer a classic, but in this line of work, it just wasn’t practical.As you walked to your room, you turned around and gave one last perimeter check, given that you’d been so sloppy earlier… twice. Concluding that it was all clear, you continued your route to your room. After fighting with the crappy door of the crappy motel room in a crappy area, you sighed and laid your jacket on the chair nearest the window. You grabbed the black duffel bag you kept under the bed and began to fill it. You put your rosary, holy water, and salt on top of the extra flannels and knives. Lastly, you added in several cans of spray paint to the side pockets. You were just about done when you heard "Thunderstruck" begin to play. Walking to the table where your phone currently rested, you realized you didn’t recognize the number. Thinking nothing of it (as hunters change their numbers all the time), you answered. “Hello?”“Y/N? Hey it’s Agent Lee, from the bar.” This caught your attention. Why was the younger Winchester calling you? “Sam. Well you’re not one to waste time are you? How’d you get my number?” You tried to play it cool, but it worried you a bit that these guys were keeping tabs on you. According to Bobby, the Winchesters were not the people you wanted on your tail. “Well, you sorta forgot your ID at the bar and Charlie, the bartender, was nice enough to give us your contact information.” You were utterly surprised. And a little pissed at Charlie, as he so clearly did this to screw with you. Bastard. You never forgot anything, much less an ID. Checking your back pocket (yes you know it wasn’t the safest place to keep it), you found that Sam was indeed right. Dammit, you didn't have time for this. “Yup, that’s mine. You free tonight?”“Yea, my partner and I can drop it off at your place on our way back.” Looking around your motel room, what with all the research pinned to your walls and weapons freely laid on the bed, you realized that was a bad idea. “Um, I’ll go to you guys. Where you staying?” You heard Sam and Dean arguing on the other line about if it was a good idea for you to go to their room. Coming to a decision, Sam finally responded. “It might take us a while to get back, so give it about an hour. We’re at the Lazy 8 motel. Room 119.”“Great. And where the hell is that?”“Haha, it’s right off Benson Highway.”“Right. See you soon. Bye.”“Bye.”Despite your experiment earlier, you really didn’t want to see the Winchesters again. And yea, maybe you were a bit standoffish on the phone, but you had things to do. You didn’t have an hour to kill. As if answering your current complaint, you suddenly received a text from Sam. Traffic was super light so it looked like they’d be back sooner than they thought. Sighing and rolling your eyes, you grabbed your jacket, keys, and phone and left for the Winchester’s room. It really wasn’t that bad as you were staying at the Frontier Motel and it was only an eight-minute drive. Less, if you drove like you normally did. You revved the engine (just for effect) and made your way down the high way.You parked two spots to the right of the Winchester’s room, next to the infamous Impala. She was mesmerizing. You ran your fingers along her hood and just took in the view for a second. Maybe one day you could beg Bobby to let you take her for a spin while the boys were visiting and distracted. Sure, your car was nothing spectacular, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have an appreciation for cars that were. Remembering why you were there in the first place, you walked up to room 119 and knocked. Surprisingly, Dean answered and Sam was nowhere to be found. “Agent.” Dean kind of smirked and leaned on the side of the doorframe. Reaching to his right, he picked your ID up off the side table by the door. He snapped it on his fingers and held it out to you. “Looking for this?” You grabbed it out of his hands and tucked it in your back pocket (that falling out incident was a one-time thing…probably). “Thanks. See you around.” You began to walk back towards your Jeep. “Fairfax, Indiana huh?” That jackass studied your license. Your real license (you figured you didn’t need a fake with Charlie). You really expected more from the famous Dean Winchester. Actually scratch that, from the stories you’d heard, you really didn’t. You sighed and turned around. "You snooped." Dean pressed his lips together and looked up at you. "Can you blame me? See, I met this chick at a bar and she ran out before I even got to make a move. What do you say we finish that conversation?" That's twice now that Dean Winchester has hit on you. Just for the record. “Sorry gotta run. Raincheck? Sam apparently has my number.” You noticed Dean register the rejection just as Sam exited the bathroom in nothing but a towel around his waist. “Sam.” You nodded in acknowledgement and averted your eyes. He looked up and the look on his face was priceless. He semi-smiled and his hands instinctually came up to cover what he could of his torso. “Later boys.” You laughed as you turned around and walked back to your vehicle. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Dean closed the door a little perplexed. He wasn’t used to being rejected. Though the look on Sammy’s face was fantastic. Little did he know that Dean had stolen his phone and texted Y/N an earlier time. Hey, Sam got to make the call, it was only fair that Dean be the one to deliver the goods. Realizing what had happened, Sam threw a massive bitch face at Dean as well as a pillow. "You're a freaking jerk!" Dean caught the pillow and just laughed it off. Still, something was eating at him about that girl. He’d been rejected before, not often, but it happened every now and again. But this feeling wasn't that. It was something different. There was something so familiar about her. He was going to figure it out. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Your research had led you to conclude that the demons were staying in one of three possible abandoned warehouses. They were planning to stay a while, given that your informant (who let’s face it was an intern who you allowed to see a little more leg than most guys) at the local station notified you of two college boys that had stopped by. The idiots told the cops that there was a woman who choked one of them in order to get information about not only Patricia, but other folks in town as well. Information that would’ve been useful after finding the body, but still, eavesdropping on this police interview gave you what you needed. Apparently, “The bitch’s eyes were black. I swear dude.” If Patricia wasn’t the only one on their list, it seems that the demons had a motive for killing her. An outlier when it came to demon behavior. After the kids walked away from the cops, you approached them and prodded them further. “What were the names she mentioned?”“I don’t know, it’s kinda fuzzy (the douche began rubbing his fingertips together).” You rolled your eyes and pulled a twenty out from your pocket. The idiot took it and slapped it in his buddy’s hand. “I really only remember one. Trevor Cassidy. She mentioned more but I swear I don’t remember them.”“Did she have any defining characteristics? Or maybe she said something? Anything that could possibly be helpful?”“Maybe you could come back to my place and I’ll tell you everything.” The rat licked his lips and you rolled your eyes. Your patience was running thin and you just didn’t have time for this. You grabbed the jerk’s collar and shoved him against the station wall, his buddy watching the entire thing. “I’m not playing around here kid! People are getting hurt so do you know anything or not?”“Jesus lady! She said something about a warehouse, that’s all I know!” You released him and both guys scattered. Jackasses.And that was pretty much how you ended up here. You were pinned against a concrete wall with a woman using her demonic powers to keep you there. “You weren’t on our list Weston. Don’t exactly fit the criteria, but I guess I can make an exception. I’m gonna kill you, your cute little college buddies, and anyone else who gets in my way.”“Yea? We’ll see about that, bitch.” The demon thrust her hand forward, choking you for only a second until you let out a small laugh. “Think torture’s amusing, you maggot?” You let out another strained huff as she took another step towards you. “No, I think it’s amusing that you think you’re hurting me.” That pissed her off. Again, she thrust her hand and sent a powerful grip to your neck. She began to drag you up the wall with a grin on her face. Your legs began to flail as you couldn’t breathe, let alone speak.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Sam and Dean had a long afternoon of interviewing the two dumbasses that managed to come forward with vital information regarding the case. After these guys confessed to the police, the officers thought it best that the Feds who had forcefully taken over their investigation handle this one. The Sam and Dean kind of Feds anyway. They were just finishing up the interview when one of the guys mentioned some crazy, hot chick asking for the same information. Sam looked to Dean and the college guys were once again interrogated (not so nicely).The impala sped into the parking lot of the second warehouse the boys decided to check. They got out of the car and opened Her trunk, getting flasks and bottles of holy water. Taking down a demon was not easy. They should know, the boys just had to deal with seven. This job would be so much easier with that knife that wonder woman used back at the seven deadly sins situation. But alas, the boys would have to settle for the old-fashioned way. They approached the door and Dean went to pick the lock. He stuck one of his tools in the hole and the door pushed open just a bit. This door had already been broken into. This must be the place. The boys took two steps inside and Dean immediately recognized her. Y/N. The demon had her halfway up the wall and she didn’t look like she was doing well. Dean shoved Sam to get his attention and then grabbed his flask of holy water from his jacket. The boys began shaking the water on the demon and switching back and forth on the exorcism. The demon didn’t know whom to stop and whenever she got too close to one of the brothers she got a face full of holy water.It was the weirdest thing. It almost seemed like Y/N was against exorcising this demon. She couldn’t breathe at the moment, but it was like she was straining to say ‘no, wait’. Sam couldn’t focus on that for now. Dean splashed the demon one last time as Sam said the departing words ‘Audi nos’. Y/N was dropped to her feet and coughing out a lung, trying to get her air back. Dean was expecting the hero’s thank you as Y/N opened her mouth to speak. “What do you think you’re doing?” What the hell?~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~“Saving your ass. You’re welcome by the way.” Dean Winchester. Always trying to be the hero. “Did you really think I was stupid enough to come in here half-cocked without a plan?” Dean scoffed at you and Sam simply looked confused. “Y/N you were halfway up a wall. You know what that thing was? It was a demon. You had no shot.” You stared condescendingly at Dean and simply pointed up towards the ceiling. The brothers both looked up slowly to see a masterfully crafted devil’s trap. Had the demon taken one more step in your direction, you would have had her. The Winchesters looked to you with a mixture of confusion and apologetic stares. “This (you motion to where the altercation went down) was an interrogation, not an extermination, thank you, really, because now I’ve just lost that information.” Dean let out a small laugh and you and Sam both looked to him. “That rhymed,” was all he said. It took all you could do at that moment not to punch Dean Winchester in the face. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- You rubbed your neck with your left hand as you made your way to the body lying in the corner. It was a young male, early twenties. Your right hand extended to try to find a pulse. You highly doubted you would, given the five-inch laceration across the front of his neck, but you still had to try. Finding nothing, you sighed and removed your fingers. Reaching in the Vic’s pocket, you pulled out a beaten up brown leather wallet. Analyzing the contents, you found what you were looking for: the ID. Trevor Cassidy. Crap. The demon had already finished the deed by the time you’d arrived, so there was literally nothing you could’ve done. But still, no matter how many times you’d seen it, death always got to you, just a little. Never enough to affect your work, but you still hadn’t gone numb to it yet. Something to work towards. You noticed the Winchesters eyeing you carefully, having a silent conversation of their own. You stood slowly and simply walked past them, not saying a word. The boys began to follow you. Stopping just before the exit, you pulled your jacket over your fist and punched in the fire alarm glass to pull the switch. You had just about seven minutes to vacate unless you wanted to get caught with the, now two, bodies lying on the floor.“You Winchesters sure live up to your reputation,” the door swung shut behind you. The boys exchanged a look and stopped it before it slammed on them. Tonight hadn’t gone how they expected either. And they certainly didn’t expect you to know who they really were. “So what finally gave us away, huh sweetheart?” Dean taunted you as he followed, keeping up surprisingly easily. “Please. I sniffed you out the moment you asked for directions.” You began to walk faster towards the Jeep, not wanting to have this discussion. Dean was getting close at this point and reached his arm out to grab yours. “Look, just hold on a second okay?” You turned to face him, your expression unamused. “I’m sorry we ruined your interrogation or whatever, but you’re not completely blameless in this either. This whole situation could’ve been avoided if you hadn’t lied to us in the first place.” You yanked your arm from Dean’s grip and took a few steps away so you were equally distant from both brothers. “Hey, I never lied. I just… didn’t tell the whole truth. There’s a difference.” Dean rolled his eyes and Sam laughed under his breath. Finally getting a word in, the younger Winchester spoke up. “So if you're a hunter, why haven’t we heard of you before? It’s not exactly a big community. For that matter, why keep it from us in the first place?” You sighed and looked around, debating how much you were gonna give these guys. “I have my reasons (or Bobby does, but who’s fact checking?).” You could hear sirens distantly down the road. Four minutes. Dean’s eyebrow raised, “Well thank you, that explains everything. Quit being a smartass and just tell us who you are.” Jackass. “My story’s most like everyone else’s. Used to have a mom and a sister. Now I don’t. I have demons to thank for that. And tonight, I was supposed to be one step closer to wiping them off the face of the Earth. So really, thanks again boys.”“The bitch is still gone, I’m not really seeing the problem here,” Dean intervened. Sam was pondering your life story and gave you a sort of sympathetic look. Exactly what you didn’t want, from anyone. That part of your speech had clearly gone right over Dean’s head. “The problem, jackass (that oddly felt good to say aloud), is that while, yes, one black-eyed-bitch is gone, I now have to start back at square one. Without that interrogation, I have nothing on where her partner is or any of the other names on their list. Anyone else gets hurt, that’s on me.” You studied Dean’s face. He honestly hadn’t calculated the consequences of his and Sam’s actions. The sirens were getting louder and you had about two minutes. “That’s what I thought. Well, I wish I could say it was great meeting you boys, but alas, I gotta cover my ass now. See you around, or actually, hopefully not.” You again walked to your car and unlocked the door. Sam was bold enough to take a few steps in your direction and speak up. “Y/N, look, we know a thing or two about feeling guilty over the bad stuff. Trust me. But regardless, the case is still open and it’s not all on you. Like it or not we caught this one too. We’re not just gonna sit back and let you do it on your own. I think the best way to go about this is to work together.” You stopped mid-step up into the vehicle and froze. You slowly turned and looked deep in Sam’s eyes, seeing nothing but earnest intentions. Looking down and over to Dean, you actually saw the same thing (with just a bit of resistance), yet still well hidden under that Casanova exterior. The brothers really did feel bad for messing up your night. Sighing, you looked to the black asphalt of your parking spot and bit your lip. “Meet me at the Frontier motel. I’ll show you what I have and maybe we can catch this thing before it kills anyone else. Now unless you want to explain to the coppers why there are two doornails inside, I suggest we leave.” A slight smile broke out on both boys’ faces. Yep, this was gonna come back to bite you in your well-toned ass. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The Impala followed your Jeep all the way back to the motel. You parked right in front of your door and locked the car as Sam and Dean exited theirs. Shaking your hair back into place after enduring the tornado that comes with driving with the tarp off, you noticed the older Winchester staring at your vehicle with disdain. So not in the mood, you ignored it and went to unlock your motel door. "That’s a, uh, nice ride you got there.” Dean managed to get out as you struggled with the lock. “Hey, this is the West. You tell me how your impala fares in the Rockies.” Dean’s face twisted at the implication of something his Baby couldn’t do. He was about to retort when you finally shouldered your door and it opened with a loud crack. Damn cheap wood."Come on in." You gestured for the boys to enter. The Winchesters stepped foot in your room and looked in amazement. You had case files and maps of Tucson and pretty much any other information needed for this case pinned to your wall. “And I thought you needed to get out more Sammy.” You glared at Dean as you slipped your leather jacket off, revealing the grey tank top underneath. You then stretched your arm to reach on top of the bed frame; retrieving the file you created that included everything you needed to know about this case. The tip of your shirt inched up just a fraction, exposing your lower back, and Dean Winchester sure as hell noticed. After grabbing the carefully hidden item, you slapped it on the table in front of the Winchesters. “Boys, welcome to professional.” Dean rolled his eyes but Sam was mesmerized. He looked to you for permission and you simply gave him a nod. That was all he needed to dive in. “Geez Sammy, don’t hurt yourself.” Without even taking his eyes from the file, almost like a reflex, “It’s Sam.” You held your hands in a mock ‘don’t shoot’ position and let Sam do his thing.Ten minutes had passed and you and Dean were growing restless. Sam was nose deep in the file and the two of you were standing awkwardly, twiddling your thumbs. Coming up with an idea to make things less weird, you walked over to the fridge and pulled three beers out. Alcohol makes everything better (you can quote me on that). You set one down in front of Sam and handed the other to Dean, who leaned against the wall. You brought your beer to your crotch and cracked her lid with your belt buckle. “So is this the norm for the two of you? Sam’s the research guy and you’re the muscle?” Dean fidgeted slightly and brought the bottle to his lips. “Yea, pretty much,” he responded, taking several more swigs. There was another awkward silence until Dean broke it once again. “So, be honest with me here, have we met before? You clearly seem to know us and I swear I’ve seen you before.” You were conflicted. Should you tell them the truth? Sighing and deciding to trust them (even though Bobby clearly didn’t…when it came to you anyway), you walked over and sat on your bed. Dean followed suit and found a spot right next to you, straddling the corner. “All cards on the table? No, we’ve never officially met. But I did know John.” This intrigued Dean. Even Sam stopped studying the file to look in your direction and listen. “Not well, but my father served with him and he came by to visit a couple times.” Dean shifted to face you further. “What was your father’s name?”“Weston. Jessie Weston.”“Dad never mentioned a Jessie Weston.”“That’s because he did an extra three tours and never came home from the last one.”Sam tilted his head in sympathy. Your life just seemed to be a Nicholas Sparks novel to people and you hated the pity in their eyes. But Sam’s look didn’t contain pity. It contained something you could only describe as understanding. Charlie had mentioned that John passed in the last few years and you attributed Sam’s look to that. “So was John the one who saved you from the demon who got your mom and sister? I only bring it up because demons aren’t really known to leave survivors.” Sam inquired. You looked down and laughed just a bit. “You're a smart one Sam. I don't know how he knew, but John came in there guns blazing. He got me out. After that I stayed with a family friend. Pretty sure you know him too. Bobby Singer is a hell of a guy.” Realization dawned on both boys’ faces. Bobby was the connection. “Well, I think that’s enough sharing and caring for one night. Got anything I missed Sam?” Sam shook off what he had just learned and turned back to the folder. “Actually, yea. You gathered some great information on Patricia, but after doing a background on Trevor, I found that the Vics have something in common. Get this, Patricia’s mom died in child birth and Trevor’s dad was in a fatal accident taking him to a baseball game.” You thought to yourself, trying to piece together the information. “So what? Dead parents are the connection? If that were the case we’d all be on that list. The demon distinctly told me I wasn’t.” Sam shook his head. “Not just dead parents. Kids who caused their parent’s deaths.”“I wouldn’t exactly say Trevor and Patricia had it coming. It wasn’t their fault?”“Yea, well demons don’t exactly see grey area. I think we’re actually dealing with some furies here guys. I mean the lore says there are normally three, but it had nothing concrete to go on. It also mentions that they were believed to have been Greek Goddesses, but there’s a very real possibility that they could’ve just been demons in disguise. It’s not unheard of. And after just dealing with the literal Seven Deadly Sins, I wouldn’t put it passed them.” Realization dawned on you. You hadn’t read too much, but given the information you had researched on the Erinyes (the proper name) previously, Sam was really making sense. You also noticed how quiet Dean had grown. However, deciphering what that was about was going to have to wait, no matter how much the analyst in you wanted to thoroughly pick it apart.Now all that was left was finding the final spook and killing it. That’s when you had an epiphany of your own. You walked up behind where Sam was sitting and flipped through the papers to find what you were looking for. Once located, you slapped the map of Tucson down on the table. “So the location of the first murder and the location of the warehouse where we found the second are here. Notice anything directly in the middle?”“Warehouse number three.”“I’m assuming you didn’t check this one out either. Now I’m not one-hundred percent sure, but I’m willing to bet that demon number two is staking out there.” You looked to Sam and Dean with a glint in your eye, almost too excited to have the final piece of the puzzle solved. You hated that a Winchester had been the one to crack your case, but you still had the urge to kiss him. Not romantically, of course, but you were one step closer to leaving this stupid town, and you were damn grateful. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~To say Dean was having a rough night was an understatement. Not only was he not gonna get damsel in distress thank you sex, but he found out his "damsel" was also a hunter. One that had a history with his father, as well as Bobby. Things just got all sorts of complicated. Not to mention Y/N was being sexy as hell all night without even realizing it. It started with the stupid file. Exposing her lower back was a bad move. Lower back dimples were secretly a turn on for Dean. Then to go and open a beer bottle with a belt buckle? I mean c’mon who does that if they aren’t getting paid to turn a guy on? He was eternally uncomfortable. At least he would have material to playback when he got some alone time. He wouldn’t even need to steal Sam's computer or buy a magazine. But that still wasn’t even the biggest breakthrough of the night. He cracked his personal case. Where he knew Y/N from. He’d been snooping at Bobby’s once a couple years ago and stumbled across a picture in his desk drawer. A picture of Y/N. Must’ve been a high school portrait or something cause she was in a little black dress that suggested gymnastics, maybe dance team or something along those lines. He clearly remembered the red “Captain” logo embroidered on the right side of the perky chest. He also remembered thinking then about the fun he could have. Just think of the flexibility. Now here he is, several years later, face to face with the girl, working a case with her. Which brings us to what was really eating at Dean. The Furies apparently went after children who have harmed or wronged a parent. It was over a year ago, but it still stung like hell. Dean just kept replaying the image of John, dead on the floor in that hospital room in his mind. It was making him numb to the outside world. Not to mention he was about to do the same thing to Sammy. Dean had a lot to process, to say the least. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- You threw your jacket back on and went to grab your keys from the side table next to the door when Sam put his hand on top of yours. Looking up to meet his gaze, you raised your eyebrows. He quickly pulled his hand off of yours so as not to lose it (smart boy). “Uh, I was just thinking that since we’re working together on this one maybe we should drive together? I don’t see a reason two cars are needed and seeing that it’s now raining and you left the top down….”. You looked outside. Son of a bitch! Stupid monsoon season. Sighing, you dropped the keys back on the table and nodded. “Yea, I guess that makes sense. (You look to Dean)…Can I drive?” He simply laughed as he passed you to walk out the door, Sam following behind. You looked at the boys ahead of you and sighed.You walked up to the car and as Sam and Dean entered it, you stroked her silver handle. You were going to savor this moment. Yes, Dean Winchester was kind of a moron, but you couldn’t blame the car for that. Pressing your thumb into the handle to click Her open, you slid onto the black leather of the seat behind Sam. Finally inside, you reminisced about the one time that John had brought this car by to visit with your mom. He was even nice enough to let you play inside of it (you were only about six at the time). It was the first week after your father went on his second deployment. John just wanted to make sure the family was okay.“You gonna shut the door or what?” Dean says from the driver’s seat. “Oh, yeah, sorry.” He brought you out of your thoughts just in time. Now was not the moment to get into daddy issues. The engine roared to life and you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t get just a tinge of arousal. You took one last glance out the window and watched as your room got smaller and smaller, a bad feeling building in your gut.About half an hour passed and you finally arrived at the third and final warehouse, praying that the other demon was taking refuge there. You reached in your black duffel bag and pulled out your gold plated desert eagle. You twirled the gun on your index finger and deposited him in the back of your pants. Sure guns were useless, but you sure as hell felt better taking it in with you. “Ah man, you gotta let me test him out one day,” Dean says as he deposits his own ivory gripped firearm in the back of his jeans. “Only if you let me drive someday.” He contemplated this and finally answered, “I’ll think about it.” You risked a smile and shook your head. There was a ‘one-day'. Meaning the boys planned to keep in touch. Interesting. Figuring out how that made you feel would have to wait until later. You had a job to do.Trying to open the door of the warehouse, you quickly realized it was locked. Sam stepped forward; ready to pick it when you held your arm out and gave him a look. No Winchester brother was going to upstage you at your own game. Sam read your expression and took a step back. You decided to go with the pick that you kept in the inside pocket of your jacket. Slipping the rod into the lock, you had it open in seconds. You looked up just long enough to smirk at the brothers and entered the building.Yea, that whole entering the building thing…bad idea. You took one step inside and were immediately flung into some antique wooden cabinet. With glass display cupboards. The wood splintered and the glass shattered, each substance finding millions of tiny pieces embedded in your body. The bitch threw you hard. Struggling to get up, you saw that both Sam and Dean were pinned against the wall, Sam currently being choked. Thinking fast, you dipped your fingers into a particularly bad gash on your leg and began painting symbols on the floor. You overheard the demon saying something about how John’s death was Dean’s fault and he fit right on the list. Hurrying your task, you closed the circle and stood up. “Hey bitch, you gonna talk all day or are we gonna fight?” The brunette that the demon was currently occupying turned to look at you and walked in your direction. “You’re either stupid or suicidal. Either way, you’re dying today.” She was getting close to where you needed her to be, but instead of fighting fair, again she raised her hand and threw you, this time, into some metal shelving. Yea, you dented the metal. This whole furniture storage thing was really working to her benefit. And definitely not in yours. “And this time stay down.” She turned to walk back to the boys and suddenly stopped. Looking down, she saw your blood-crafted devil’s trap and laughed. Without even looking up, she smirked, “You really thought it would be that easy? You’re dumber than you loo-!” At this point you had found a Hail Mary. There happened to be fire pokers next to the shelving. Iron pokers. Before the bitch could finish her sentence, you had used it to choke her from behind, pressing it against her neck. The harder she struggled, the tighter your grip. She was sandwiched between you and the rod. You began to recite an exorcism, your lips pressed to her ear and she really started to fight you, clawing at your arms with her nails. She drew blood, but in comparison with everything else, it was barely a scratch. You pulled and struggled with her, inching her closer and closer to your homemade devil’s trap. She was really fighting hard. With a final blow, she threw her head back into yours, causing you to land on your ass and her next to you, precisely in the center of the trap. She let out a scream that felt like nails on a chalkboard to your pounding brain. “You three are gonna burn. I’ll make sure of it!” You grabbed your forehead and finished the exorcism, the black smoke leaving the brunette’s body in a tornado-like haze.The boys were released and went to help her when you let out a groan. Remembering the third member of the hunting party, Dean broke off to go help you while Sam grabbed the meat suit. He checked you over to make sure nothing was broken. After satisfying that criteria, he went to help you up. His hands twitched above you, trying to figure out the best way to do it without hurting you further. There was also doubt in his expression, as he didn’t want to offend you by touching you the wrong way or anything. “Just help me up jackass, I promise I won’t sue.” Bringing a bit of humor seemed to work as he smiled and relaxed, swinging one of your arms around his neck and bringing you to your feet. Placing his other arm around your waist, the two of you made your way to the car, your ribs and head aching from the impacts. After finally getting you situated in the back seat, Dean ran to the driver’s side and started the car. You were a little embarrassed that it had taken you well over two minutes to realize that you were not alone in the back. The brunette that had kicked your ass was sitting on the other side, still unconscious. Given that you had just had the sense beaten out of you, you decided to give yourself a pass, just this once.The impala arrived at the nearest urgent care and Sam got out to grab the girl. He carried her to the front and placed her gently on the ground, running back to the car. You checked his expression and you were a bit perplexed. He was ashamed of what he just did, like he didn’t want anyone to judge him for it. Hell, you weren’t gonna judge him. Every hunter’s done the same thing. You’d literally done it earlier that day. It really was best not to have to answer any questions. Besides, someone was obviously going to find her. By that one look alone, you’d learned so much about Sam. He was different than most hunters.Sam slammed the door to the car and Dean drove away. You began to pick at the larger pieces of glass and wood in your body, trying to pry them out. Dean looked at what you were doing in the rearview and dug a bandana out from his jacket. "Here". It was almost a sweet gesture. “So you don’t get blood on my seat.” You stand corrected. Shaking your head, you went for the big one. There was a piece of wood lodged in your thigh, the same piece you used when you needed blood for the trap. However, there was a problem. The wood was broken off from a corner, creating an L shape inside the wound. You knew what you had to do, but you really didn’t want to. You grabbed the knife from your boot and pulled your belt off. Biting down on the thick leather, you thrust the knife into your thigh, parallel to the wood. Letting out a slight whimper, you pushed the knife in further, digging the offending object out of your flesh. Finally, the damn thing was out. You rolled the window down and chucked it outside. Your leg was bleeding profusely and you knew you needed to get some pressure on there or else you were gonna bleed out. You grabbed the bandana that Dean gave you and bit on your belt once more as you tied it around your thigh, letting out just one involuntary cry as you tightened it further. It freaking hurt.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Both Dean and Sam were observing the procedure happening in the back seat. Both had the same feeling of wanting to help, but knowing they could do nothing. Instead, they just stared in the rearview mirror with sympathetic expressions. Then the cry sounded and both were on edge. “You sure you don’t want to go to the ER? That looks pretty bad Y/N.”“Since when does a little blood scare a Winchester away? Keep driving Dean I’m fine.” Dean sighed and, against his better judgment, just made his way back to your motel. The faster he got you there the faster you could patch yourself up and disinfect the wound. Dean pressed the gas harder looking intently at the road. A million thoughts were racing through his mind. He blamed himself for you getting hurt. He knew the whole ‘ladies first’ thing was bull when it came to hunting. He should've gone in first and taken the blow for you. Not only that, but then that black eyed bitch had to go and bring up John. Dean knew that John’s death truly was his fault, and that the demon would probably bring it up given what she was. That still didn’t make it hurt any less. The only comfort he gained was from the thought that the job was done and the demons taken care of. He turned into the last street leading to the motel parking lot and immediately stopped the car. The three passengers’ jaws dropped simultaneously as the sirens wailed outside… ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Sam and Dean stared as the last fire engine left the motel. The room that Y/N had been staying in (or what’s left of it anyway) sat in ash, burned to the ground with a slight smoke still emitting from charred furniture residue. Whomever had done this was specifically targeting Y/N. The two rooms to each side of hers sat unharmed, almost symbolizing a comparison to what the motel room used to look like. What was there now was simply a pile of ash and soot, black and burnt to the ground. Dean glanced in the rearview and the look on Y/N’s face was concerning. She had gone blank. Like it hadn’t even registered that everything she owned was now dust in the wind. Dean quickly pulled the impala off to the side and the three got out to check the damage.Sam looked questioningly at Y/N, as she was walking perfectly fine after what seemed like a substantial injury. Chalking it up to her body being in shock as well as her mind, he shook it off. Sam walked under the overhang, as ash was still floating all around the air, drifting like feathers in the wind. He followed one especially bountiful cluster until it passed an overhead light. A light that had just begun to flicker. Reacting immediately, all hunters pulled out guns and flasks of holy water. Well, all except Y/N. Both Sam and Dean were a bit too preoccupied to notice the lack of reaction from the female hunter.Not making the same mistake again, Dean took the lead, placing Sam and Y/N behind him in a protective crouch. A gust of wind howled and a whiff of something that smelled of rotten eggs blew by his nose and he immediately recognized it. Sulfur. “Careful, it’s close,” he warns as he encloses Y/N and Sam further behind him, his shoulders tensing with each passing moment. Sam mirrored his brother in an equally taut stance, placing himself between Dean and Y/N who, speaking of, was oddly relaxed.“Really? Where? I don’t know Dean I think you’re getting rusty. It’s much closer than you think.” Dean turned slowly around, as those words just came out of Y/N’s mouth. She smirked and blinked, her eyes opening to reveal a shade darker than black where the golden irises once were. “Surprise! I took the hot one.” Both Dean and Sam lunged at Y/N, however, both were hurled mid-air and trapped on the outside wall of the adjoining room. Y/N, or the demon anyway, had them at a disadvantage. She looked to the brothers and flashed her pearly whites. “So what is this exactly? Winchesters take in a new puppy? That’s adorable. Funny Dean, I thought you hated dogs?” Dean gritted his teeth as he spat his smartass comeback. “I tend to make exceptions when they look like her. Only got one year left, trying to get all the tail I can.”“Cute. Guess I picked the right meat suit then.” Y/N walked up to Dean and grabbed his chin, her lips inches from his. He could feel her breathe on his face. “You know, you and I could have a lot of fun. (Y/N began running the finger of her opposite hand down Dean’s chest at this point, popping each button of his flannel as she passed it). Heads up, I always like to incorporate just a little pain into my bedroom activities (She squeezed his chin tighter at this implication). Just can’t seem to get off without it, ya know?” Dean tried to remove his head from Y/N’s hands, but her grip only tightened further. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but the whole Satan spawn thing is kind of a mood killer. What do you want anyway you black eyed skank?” Y/N released her hold on Dean and turned her back to walk to her previous position in between the boys. “Oh, just what every girl wants; world domination, good sex every now and then, you know, the essentials.” She begins to turn slowly back towards them. “But I’ll settle for what I came here for.”“And what exactly was that?”“Your heads on a plate. There’s only one problem really. My hands are kind of tied. Sam, I have no problem offing you, but, see, Dean’s got a great big do not touch sign plastered all over that fine packaging. At least not for a year anyway. But don’t you worry your pretty little heads, I found a loophole. True, I can’t kill Dean, but it says nothing about torture. And I just so happened to have majored in it. Welcome to college town baby.” Sam struggled at this point trying to free himself and fight back. “What’s your problem anyway lady?”“My problem? You two idiots exorcised my sisters and you’re asking me what my problem is?”“Damn, I thought there were only two of you?”“Three piles of sulfur. Three demons. It adds up boys. Guess I was just lucky you three weren’t smart enough to figure that out.” Of course, Dean had to add in his two cents. “Well not for nothing sweetheart, but your sisters didn’t exactly put up much of a fight. Took them down easily. Ever think maybe it’s their fault? Survival of the fittest and all that crap.”“No, they were just stupid enough to stick to the guidelines. The job description and your contract. I, however, am an innovator, always finding loopholes and such. Not to mention how god damn sick I am of being an Erinye. All the rules and labels attached. Not everyone wants to avenge or whatever, like let me kill who I want to kill ya know? Free reign and all that jazz. That’s what got me in trouble and sent home the first time. But then word got out that a couple of morons were picking the lock upstairs and I sure as hell wasn’t missing that train. Once the gates were open, I knew that it was a new game. And I have you to thank for that, don’t I Sammy? So truly, thank you. I’ll try to keep that in mind when I peel the skin from that pretty face of yours. Yes, I know they may have been morons, but they were still my sisters. And I’m gonna carve that out of your asses.” Y/N pulls out the knife previously tucked into the back of her jeans. Walking up to Dean she runs the tip down his chest, popping the rest of his buttons to expose his black T-shirt underneath. The silver gleamed in the moonlight, casting an almost threatening reflection in Sam’s direction. “Don’t worry handsome, I’ll make sure you and I have fun first. I know you want to. Found out the second I jumped this hot piece of ass that you wanted to do the same.” Dean was looking anywhere but Y/N at the moment, clenching his jaw. “Feeling shy? We can fix that.” Y/N grabs Dean’s crotch (over his pants) as he let out a grunt. “Oh sweet Jesus Y/N fight this!” he practically screamed. Sam struggled immensely. Of course he was trying to save himself and Dean, but honestly, his main motivation for fighting back was to not witness the felony that his brother and new friend were about to commit. “Y/N’s long gone. But you know what, I’m sentimental. I think I’ll wear her a while even after I kill the two of you.”“You son of a bitch, you’re coming out of there if I have to reach down your throat and pull you out myself.”“Oh Dean. Dean, Dean, Dean. Always with that tough exterior. You don’t have to put the mask on with me, baby. I can see right through it. You may have earned your brother some extra time here, but you lost the girl. Just like mommy and daddy and anyone else you’ve ever loved. And that alone kills you. Which is exactly why this is my favorite part.” The brothers remained quiet. Y/N dragged the knife back up to Dean’s throat and nicked it slightly on the right. Dean let out a slight grunt as Y/N smiled. She brought the knife to her mouth and slowly licked the blood off of it. Both boys grimaced. “I always liked it straight from the tap.”“Then I hope you keep a keg in hell, cause that’s right where you’re going.” Y/N whipped around to see Bobby Singer behind her. Before she even had time to react, Bobby was dousing her in holy water. The boys were released from their holds on the wall and instantly kicked into gear. Thinking fast, they both surrounded Y/N, each grabbing an arm and not breaking their holds. Y/N struggled, mustering up her supernatural strength to try and break free. Bobby continued to chant the exorcism as he began to pour salt on the ground in a perfect circle, encasing the three hunters and the demon within it. “Careful Singer, I’ve got leverage!” Before the boys could stop her, Y/N plunged the knife she was holding straight into her side, just missing a vital organ. She let out a laugh that sent shivers down each of their spines. “Make one more move, and it goes in her chest.” Without even hesitating, Bobby finished the exorcism and Y/N screamed as the black smoke exited her body in a whirlwind that disturbed the piles of ash and soot. She suddenly grew heavy in Sam and Dean’s arms, her entire body going limp as she hung unconscious. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Now just what in the hell do you idgits think you’re doing runnin’ around with Y/N?” Sam and Dean stood perplexed. “Bobby, how did you know where we were?” Sam boldly asked. He and Dean shifted so that Y/N was now comfortably (well as comfortable as one can be after stabbing one’s self) laid across Dean’s lap. “We just opened a hell gate boys. You really think I ain’t gonna keep an eye on the two of you? Y/N I will say is a surprise though. Haven’t seen her in damn near three years now.” The boys stole a glance at the girl as she began to stir awake. “Bobby, the demons were Furies. We ganked three of them, but there could be more. That something we gotta worry about?” Bobby wiped the sweat from his forehead before answering Sam. “Well if you two morons had bothered to pick up the phone and give me a call, I coulda told you that a Fury is a kind of demon that usually runs in threes. You got Allecto, the angry, Tisiphone, the avenger, and I reckon’ we just had a run in with Megaera, the jealous. These ladies ain’t the nice kind either. They’re from Greco-Roman mythology and personify vengeance and the anger of humans who had died prematurely. Not to mention we let them out to give retribution to wrongfully murdered humans. I’m just glad we don’t gotta worry about those sons-a-bitches anymore.” Sam and Dean looked to each other. Dean quickly realized why that particular demon bitch had to bring up John’s death. He knew it was his fault and John was ‘wrongfully murdered’, but Tisiphone apparently had a stick up her ass about that sort of thing. Before he had a chance to wallow, Y/N made a noise, prompting all three men to stop and stare. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Bobby Singer really was the last thing you wanted to see as your eyes fluttered open. Not only was your side aching to all hell, but the blood was getting everywhere. Including on Dean Winchester’s jeans. Oh crap. Bobby was gonna be pissed. Pretty sure ‘I catch you with those Winchester’s and I’ll take it out of your ass’ was hard to misinterpret. Actually wait, why the hell were you on Dean? You tried to remember the past hour, but it was extremely cloudy. The last thing you remembered you were pulling into the motel parking lot of….oh god. The memories all rushed in and you immediately understood. You went and got yourself possessed in the car. The demon didn’t care enough to black you out so the whole ordeal was flashing through your mind, giving you one hell of a headache on top of everything else.Glancing up, you saw Bobby’s face once more. He was bent down and pressing gauze all around your midsection. When did your shirt get lifted? “Well hey there kiddo. Bit off a little more than we could chew I see.” You groaned and tried to sit up, Dean’s hands immediately finding your shoulders to steady you. Once you could handle yourself Bobby looked at the boys and motioned for them to give the two of you a moment alone. Sam took out his bandana from his pocket and gave it to Dean to clean the blood from his neck. The blood you had caused. Seeing as Dean’s bandana was currently wrapped around your leg, you decided you’d have to buy them new ones, as a thank you of course. That’d make the three of you even. Bobby coughing refocused your attention. “You know what you did was real stupid. Going after one demon let alone three by yourself? I know I trained you better than that.” You refused to meet Bobby’s eyes. You knew you were wrong, but you wouldn’t be a true Weston if you admitted it. “Technically I wasn’t alone.” Bobby rolled his eyes. “No, you were worse. Now I know I ain’t your daddy or anything, but when I say not to get mixed up with certain folk, there’s a reason. I don’t need to be worrying about all three of ya at the same time.” It suddenly made sense why Bobby was so against you hanging out with the Winchester boys. He wanted to keep you hunting the small stuff; monsters that he knew you could kill with one eye closed. Winchesters never kept it small. Everything was world ending with them. You knew you’d eventually have to have this talk with him, you just never thought it would be this soon. Then again, maybe now wasn’t exactly the best time to give the whole ‘I’m not a kid anymore’ speech given how badly you’d just screwed up.“So you gonna tell me where the hell you been or you just gonna sit there lookin’ like the pooch that just got screwed?” You relaxed your face and gave Bobby a look. Your facial expressions had always been discreet, yet he seemed to have the decoder, as he called you out on them every time. “Well, I didn’t exactly graduate.” Bobby sighed. “Yea I got that. Now cut the crap smartass.” You laughed and in doing so, winced at the pain that the knife had caused. “I couldn’t do it anymore. Waking up every day and pretending like everything was normal…it’s exhausting. I mean, knowing everything that’s out there and still prioritizing some stupid piece of paper over that…it killed me. I was going insane, Bobby. After two years, I couldn’t take it anymore. I knew you’d tear me a new one if I told you, so I may or may not have booked a one way flight to California.” You waited in anticipation, studying Bobby’s face for any kind of reaction. You saw a brief flash of anger then it quickly changed to what could only be described as hurt. “I could throttle you ya know that? You bet your ass I’m pissed. I worried for three damn years and you’ve been off working on your tan? But you know what the worst part is? You couldn’t trust me enough to let me in on the plan. You can tell me anything ya idgit.” You felt bad to say the least. In reality, the whole ‘don’t tell Bobby’ plan had less to do with fear and more with you finding your hunting independence. You never meant to hurt him. “How bout I send you a postcard next time?” Bobby cracked a smile. “You are just like your mama you know that? I suppose I’ll have to let you grow up sometime. But it is just my luck that you’d run into them boys. You really know how to pick em’ don’t ya Y/N/N? Don’t get me wrong I love those idgits, but Sam’s got his head in the clouds and Dean hits on everything with legs.” You snickered to yourself, knowing just how right Bobby was. “Why don’t you come stay with me a bit? Seeing as you kinda need a new set of, well everything. There’s always a room for ya. Hell, I’ll even let ya hunt again, once your good and patched up that is.” You smiled. You really didn’t deserve Bobby friggin’ Singer. No one did. “Deal.” Bobby ran his hand through your hair and nodded. He stood up and motioned to the boys to come help you to your feet. Sam was by your side in an instant and guided your arm around his shoulder as you struggled to stand. It was actually kinda funny to see how much he had to bend in order for you to reach properly.Bobby was hooking your jeep (seeing as you were in no condition to drive) to the back of his pickup. “I’ll see you lot at the salvage yard. You boys take care of her, ya hear?” Both Winchesters nodded and Bobby hopped in his car and drove away. You all watched the car in the distance get smaller and smaller until it disappeared completely. Looking behind you at what used to be your motel room, you sighed. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- You took your arm off of Sam’s shoulder. He moved to put it back when you just shook your head. This was something you had to do alone. You stuck your right leg out and took a step, followed by your left and so forth. The pain was excruciating, and you were getting it from all angles. Your entire body was sore from being flung into a metal piece of furniture. Your right thigh where the wooden cabinet had embedded itself was screaming at you with every bit of pressure you put on it. Your side where the demon had made you stab yourself ached worse with each step. There were tiny cuts all over your body from the glass shards and splinters that stung in the cool night air. To say you were hurting was an understatement. But you kept going regardless. You stepped on piles of ash and different bits of window glass, breaking them with your boots. You had a goal in mind and you were gonna reach it by yourself.Finally arriving at your destination, you crouched down, your entire body yelling at you. You brushed away several piles of ash until you found what you were looking for. Thank god it was unharmed. The metal desk drawer must’ve protected it. You picked up the wooden frame and dusted off the bit of soot that had fallen onto it. No matter where you went, you always took with you this certain picture. It was you, your mom, and your sister, all standing in front of a white picket fence and smiling. It was the last picture you had of your family and it was your favorite. Your right hand brushed over your mother, remembering how soft her arms always were. It trailed down to your sister’s golden locks. She had gotten your mother’s hair and you were stuck with your father’s chestnut brown waves along with his tan skin. You always looked adopted in family photos considering your dad was never in them. But no one seemed to mind but you. Sure your sister would tease you, but you knew she had your back at the end of the day. You brought the picture to your chest and just let the leftover warmth heat your torso.A hand on your right shoulder startled you out of your private moment. You looked up to see Dean standing there, his face sweaty and covered in ash. There was still a bit of blood residue on his neck and his green eyes looked down to meet your golden ones. Behind him, Sam stood tall, almost as if there for moral support. Whether it was for you or Dean, you didn’t know. You tucked the picture inside your jacket and grabbed Dean’s arm to help you to your feet. You crossed your arms. “So what now? I don’t know if you guys have noticed, but I don’t exactly work well with others. Sorry about your neck.” Dean instinctually brought his hand up to feel where you had sliced him. “No one’s asking you to. Just come with us to Bobby’s for now and we can figure things out there. Besides, I’ve done worse just shaving.” The corner of your mouth rose, threatening to turn itself into an actual smile. “But Y/N/N? Just make sure you get one of these (Sam pulls his shirt down to expose his anti-possession tattoo). I really don’t wanna have to see you or another demon grab my brother’s crotch again.” Your half smile became whole and you looked around. “As long as you don’t call me Y/N/N, you got a deal.” Dean’s face brightened having found something that irritates you. “Oh, now that’s sticking forever.” Your face turned toward him when he used the word ‘forever’. Did he mean it? “Alright slow your horses Winchester, I said I’d accompany you to Bobby’s, not travel the world with the dynamic duo.” Dean thought for a minute. “All’s I’m saying is minus the whole possession fiasco, you did good out there. We could really use your help every now and again. So what do you say we kill some evil sons of bitches and we raise a little hell?” You looked to Sam and then Dean. The invite seemed genuine enough. “I’ll think about it.” You say as you smirk at the boys. But that was a lie. You were most definitely in. Dean rolled his eyes. “Tease.”“Jerk.”You said it without even thinking… Damn, you were in farther than you thought. Executive ProducersERIC KRIPKE ROBERT SINGER
10078409	its in my heart and in	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Kim Taehyung \| V, Park Jimin (BTS)", "Fandom": "방탄소년단 \| Bangtan Boys \| BTS", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by avior", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-04T00:00:00", "words": "850", "Additional Tags": "Pining, lots of pining tbh, Alternate Universe, Best Friends Who Wish They Are Dating, wow i just love vmin a lot ok;;;;, i hate tagging tbh, Friends to Lovers", "Relationship": "Kim Taehyung \| V/Park Jimin", "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 day before ;jimin’s fast asleep when taehyung covered him with his favorite blanket.at 11 p.m.; he’s snoring gently, clothes having been folded, suitcases zipped and the room being a lot less cluttered without his one-piece mangas and other manhwas.only then did taehyung say, “stay.” —  3 days before ; “you’re going away soon,” taehyung told jimin. like he always did, jimin merely smiled.they’ve known this for some time. taehyung himself, have known this for some time.for some reason, taehyung still couldn’t wave his goodbyes well even when he could see the curves of jimin’s smile under closed eyelids, sense the warmth and comfort of jimin’s hands without them touching his skin and hear peals of jimin’s laughter from miles away. —  5 days before ; “it’s only for 6 months. it’ll be like closing your eyes when i leave and then a moment later, when you open them, i’m here again.”“you’ll be here again.”“for a looong time.”the whole world seeks jimin — he’s not meant to be a fixture here. he’ll wander for as long as the earth orbits around the sun, for as long as taehyung orbits around him.jimin will not be here, for a long time, and taehyung can only let himself spin for him from the distance. —  a week before ; “i’ll miss you, you know,” jimin said, seven days before he was due to leave.taehyung didn’t know how to respond — he only knew the feeling of having one toothbrush on the sink, a little more like half-empty and a little less like half-full when jimin leaves. —  a month before ; “it still feels like a dream.”“the good kind?” “the best kind, don’t you think so?”“yeah.”it’s only half true; it’s the best kind because jimin is overflowing with happiness and nothing quite brims taehyung’s whole body with contentment more than watching jimin’s smile glowing full of hope and pride. but at the same time, it’s the worst kind because taehyung feels selfish knowing he’ll never see half of them. —  3 months before ; “i made it,” jimin said, a little in awe. the way he had said it made it seem like he had triumphed over gravity and he’s floating in his own victory in the cold winter night like a dream.“you’re living your dreams. you’re going to be there, and show, no, prove to them how well you can perform. you’re going to do great,” taehyung stared at the sky. taehyung paused. “you’re going to be somewhere there,” he pointed out at the lone star burning bright, lightyears ahead from his fingertips.“you sure?” jimin grinned widely.taehyung turned around to face jimin, “i can see the future.”“you’re funny,” jimin laughed, tipping his head back all the way till he leaned close against taehyung. my little star, i wasn’t kidding, you’ll burn bright it’ll be blinding. —  today ; “nonoyou’renotsupposedtocry,” taehyung is flustered, holding both of jimin’s cheeks with trembling hands. i might cry harder and not let you go. “it’ll be hard without you there,” jimin replies between sobs. “i’ll just- i’ll just miss you loser so goddamn much,” in between wiping his tears with his left hand, jimin’s right hand tugs at the collar of taehyung’s shirt roughly.“don’t say that,” taehyung whispers.“i’ll say what i want! listen, you, i - fuck it, it’s been you all along!” jimin’s voice is rising slightly. “all these years, my sorry ass has been after you! and now, the only time i can tell you is when i’m leaving,” jimin’s voice, and his head, drops to the crook at taehyung’s neck. there, buried close to his heart.“what are you trying to say?” taehyung’s voice cracks, embarassingly so whenever he’s nervous. “let’s go together for a long time,” jimin says after a beat, voice a little muffled with taehyung’s shirt close to his mouth. i- “say something,” jimin pleads. “the train’s arriving soon.”“i- this is like a dream. i don’t know how to - how to respond.” i think i’m beginning to cry. “is this the worst kind? did i make you cry because of it?” jimin asks with a smaller voice, his head shifting, ready to —“it’s the best kind, but you’re-you’re making me cry,” taehyung stutters out between sobs as he clarifies.jimin stills.“we’re both losers aren’t we?” it’s a wet kind of laughter that comes out of taehyung’s throat.“of the worst kind,” jimin replies. he removes his head from the crook of taehyung’s neck to beam at him with that blinding smile of his. —  6 months later ; jimin pulls away, face flushed prettily like the sunset and taehyung’s completely entranced like it’s the first moment he fell in love with jimin.“we’ve waited for so long to do this.” taehyung rests his hand on jimin’s cheek, bringing him closer, pulling him in again.“we’ve a long time to make up for it.”taehyung was half-right, jimin burns blindingly bright, especially when they meet. but, he’s also half-wrong because jimin might not be here for a long time, but he’ll be with taehyung for a long time.
10019537	If I Could Turn Back	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": null, "Characters": "Albus Dumbledore, Hermione Granger, James Potter, Lucius Malfoy, Minerva McGonagall, Molly Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Remus Lupin, Ron Weasley, Severus Snape, Draco Malfoy", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by Calanor", "chapters": "4/4", "completed": "2009-12-29", "published": "2008-11-04T00:00:00", "words": "6,455", "Additional Tags": "Explicit Language, Heterosexual Sex, Slash sex, Mpreg, Out of Character, Sexual Content, Spoilers, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Tragedy, Bonding, Drama, First Time, Horror, Supernatural - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Suspense, Romance", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "HPFandom", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": "Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Categories": "M/M, Gen", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Title: If I Could Turn Back Time Author:SeulWolfe and Morganlefay1958Fandom's:Harry PotterRating:G-M, depending on chapterStatus:WIPMain Characters or Pairings:Harry/Severus, Neville/Ron, Draco/Hermione, Lucius/RemusSetting's:Post-war, Post- Hogwarts, no chanWarnings:slash, violence, abuse, Character death, het, triad, infidelity, mpreg, deception Disclaimer: J. is the creator and true owner of the characters of Hogwarts and her Wizarding World, and no infringement of copyright is intended. I’m just playing with them for my own amusement; no money is being made. All characters, settings, and plots you recognize are the property of the authors, and belong to us. Author’s Note:Another one.. sitting in my Docs, wanted to see what everyone thought. Will be updated when I can....Beta:Morganlefay1958, who keeps me on track. All remaining mistakes are my own. Summary: If you could turn back time, what would you change? How would you change it? -0- -0- -0- -0- ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 1 -0- -0- -0- Sometime in the Future... Samhain. All Soul's Day. The magical interval when the mundane laws of time and space are temporarily suspended, and the Thin Veil between the worlds is lifted. Communicating with ancestors and departed loved ones is easy at this time, for they journey through this world on their way to the Summerlands. It is a time to study the Dark Mysteries and honor the Dark Mother and the Dark Father, symbolized by the Crone and her aged Consort.Sometimes to right the wrongs of the past. As such as it was on this night. Too much had gone wrong. The future was never set in stone. He had to do something and this Samhain, he would. For if he didn't, his loved ones would forever roam the plane between heaven and earth, never finding peace. The Goddess had heard him and had given their blessing on his quest.The wrongs of the past would be made right.The future would be clear once more.He took a cleansing breathe as he waited for the veil to thin. To become clear to him. And at the moment it happened, James Potter stepped through the veil with one purpose on his mind, to bring his son back from the dead. -0-0-0- Seven years ago, on Halloween, Severus Snape lost what humanity he had left. His sole purpose for living had been taken away. His body just wouldn't give up the ghost yet. As he thought back to the day it happened. It was ironic... that his lover would be taken on the same anniversary as his parents had been.The war had been over for months. Harry Potter had finished what had been started on another Halloween years ago. His parents had been avenged as his friends stood beside him, as well as Albus Dumbledore, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape and both Malfoy's Sr. and Jr. They all stood together, using one spell, bringing to his knees one of the darkest wizards in centuries.The power he knew not was the gift of love shared between him and those that Harry loved beyond this world and the next. Gift of lovers and friends. The gift of soulmates. A forever.It was beautiful to watch the man who was Harry Potter, a warrior and a lover, call the power of the earth to his feet. Called the power of love to his heart and soul. Then everyone watched in wonder as Harry opened his arms wide and gathering the magic of the elements and cleanse the battlefield of darkness that was once Voldemort.The world celebrated for weeks afterwards. He and Harry didn't leave their safe haven for a month. Not that they were alone. War itself brought about quite a few new and strange alliances.The Villa had become a place to just be. And one by one, Harry invited those closest to him to stay when things became too much with the war. Those he trusted.And those they trusted brought the ones they found in desperate times.Dobby and Winky had come along as Harry's house elves. Severus smirked at the row between his lover and Granger. It was Dobby who told her that he was proud to be Master Harry's friend and elf. Just let them be.And she did.One by one, they came and the Villa became a place that the war could not touch. They had been making breakfast together when Harry turned around to say hello to Remus. They hadn't stopped to say anything to the Werewolf when they arrived late that night. They only showered and fell into bed exhausted.Remus was not alone. Lucius Malfoy stood tall and regal beside the quiet man with a large bite scar on his neck. A claiming mark.That was the first surprise...two or three weeks later, Hermione showed up with Draco Malfoy. Both were in the kitchen arguing, or rather, Hermione was berating Draco about something she thought was foolish and dangerous. How could he put his life on the line when she was just finding she could not live without him in her life. Just as they stepped into the kitchen, Draco did the only thing he could think of. He kissed Hermione senseless."Well I definitely never saw that one coming," Harry said as he walked over to the cold box and pulled out fixings for sandwiches.Harry and Severus were beginning to wonder if they should put up wards around the kitchen to alert anyone there that someone was coming. Then they found Ronald in the kitchen.On the table.No shirt and his jeans undone with one Neville Longbottom bending him over the kitchen table and doing a wonderful job of making a so-called straight man moan all the way up from his toes, and then scream his release as he came."We are going to need a new table," Severus drawled.Wards went up in the kitchen. No one was caught with their pants down again. Especially when Harry decided to see what all the fuss was about having sex in the kitchen, after they later walked in on Remus bending Lucius over the new kitchen table.The rebuilding of Hogwarts had been slow going and tedious at best, but the walls would once more be crowded with students again. The governors had been hopeful for a reopening after the Christmas holidays.Harry and his friends were tired of hiding things from whom they called family and friends. Especially so when they were planning on bonding during the Yule. So it was decided that the four of them would travel to the Burrow and announce to those gathered about the secrets they kept. He knew some would be horribly upset with him and his friends. Ron's Mum especially was not going to be happy. Hermione and Harry would be right up there with Ron along with Remus as she had taken them all under her wing.She had mothered them all throughout the war. She and an army of House Elves had made sure there was always food waiting in all the safe houses, at the Burrow, wherever anyone from the order might end up for the night.The War lasted three years past Harry's last year at Hogwarts. Even then, the school had become a refuge for those singled out by Tom Riddle and his minions.Severus' true spy status had been exposed early in the game soon, after Harry's Fifth Year. Voldemort had realized that since he used Potter's blood he could pass the wards of his Aunt and Uncle's home easily. And he did.Peter Pettigrew had given up his life that night to repay the life debt he owed Harry. Sirius Black's name was cleared and Severus Snape was almost tortured to insanity that night. It was Harry who Apparated himself and Snape out of the Dursley household that night with a burst of wandless magic.Poppy kept Severus in her infirmary for three months. He spent the first month comatose. When Severus was able to speak again or hold a conversation without falling asleep in his tea, he asked some hard questions of Harry. His treatment at the hands of those who were his family. It was the first time, Severus Snape saw the real Harry Potter, not James Potter's son.The snarly man took great pleasure in watching Minerva and Poppy rake Albus Dumbledore over the coals then turn around and berate Harry for not speaking up.He just repeated what he had been told. That he was safest where his mother's blood flowed. And that was the Dursley's.Poppy dragged the young man over to a bed, pulled the screen and proceeded to check him from head to toe. When she was done two hours later, she informed him that the damage was there, but with the right foods and some very well made potions they could undo the damage.But first things first. New eye glasses.And one spectacular shopping trip later with a huge bonfire outside on the lawn of Hogwarts. Harry would not be returning to the Dursley's ever again.Harry spent his time training and learning from Severus, growing closer. Together they pulled Draco and Lucius from the edge of the Forbidden Forrest not two weeks before Sixth year.Both had been tortured and beaten. What they hadn't known was that it wasn't Lucius Malfoy in the Azkaban prison, but his wife, Narcissa. The beautiful blonde was ruthless and evil like her sister Bella. When they had questioned her after the fact, and Lucius, they found out that Malfoy Sr, wanted to save his family from serving the Dark Lord.But the cold beautiful woman was swimming in a madness all her own. She kept her husband under her tight control and Polyjuiced him whenever she could.Even Draco didn't know what was happening around him. She had withdrawn from his life and only Lucius had been his constant, and she was the one who punished him when the Mudblood Granger did better than him in lessons or Potter beat him at Quidditch. She had fed him a potion every month to suppress his Veela heritage.Severus remembered how Lucius looked after they found both men. The older man's signature long silky hair was long gone. Cut off in large chunks as Narcissa used it for the Polyjuice Potion.By the time the new Hogwarts term began for Harry and company, Draco and his father were full time residents of the Castle. Lucius became the new assistant to both Remus and Severus in Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts classes.It was hearing Draco tell his father, until the war with Voldemort was over, they had no home. It was true. Severus' family manor was under attack all summer as the Dark Lord was trying to find him and destroy him for betraying him and his cause. To gain access to his extensive family library full of ancient dark arts books.For now their home was with those they loved.And when the War ended, they each found love. -0-0-0-0- Remus, Harry, Ron and Hermione asked everyone to meet them at the Burrow so they could announce some things and discuss futures. Harry sent Dobby and Winky ahead with baskets of food for the impromptu afternoon tea. It was a time for celebration. Not only was Voldemort dead and the Wizarding World was free, but they could actually for the first time in many years, plan a future.Ron wanted his friends with him when he broke the news of his impending bonding to Neville. They had each kept their personal lives separate and secretive from others, hence keeping their lovers safe from the evil of Voldemort and his Deatheaters.When they were all gathered in the Burrow's kitchen, Ron stood up, "Mum, Dad, everyone, I would like to invite all of you to my bonding during the Yule as I begin my future with the Heir of the Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom."Harry stood up next to his best friend and smiled, "As well I. During the coming Yule, I invite all of you to my bonding to Severus Snape, Heir to the House of Prince...."Molly Weasley nee Prewitt, was not about to let all her plans go South. Not after all this time. "Oh no you're not!" Molly interrupted. The older red headed woman stood up and growled. "You cannot and will not, marry that.. that ... that MAN!" Turning eyes towards her youngest son, "And YOU! Will not either! I did NOT raise you to marry a MAN!""Mrs. Weasley," Harry began. "I make my own decisions. And I have decided to bond with Severus. Nothing will stop that.""I can and I will. I have a contract signed by your Godfather for your hand in marriage to my daughter. It cannot be broken.""My Godfather? What are you on about? He wouldn't have signed anything without talking to me first!""Well he did. Right after Christmas during your Fifth Year.""Sirius wasn't capable of signing any agreement with you. He was not well by then. The man even confused Harry with his father many a time that year. We all know that," Hermione stated."It does not matter. I have contracts signed for Harry and Ginny, just as I promised her as a child."Hermione could see the devious smirk on the girl's face. She had known all this time."As I have one for you and my Ronald." Tbc... ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 2 "As I have one for you and my Ronald." Hermione's head whipped around towards the Weasley matriarch. "What are you on about now? My parents wouldn't have signed anything without speaking to me first. And I know I never signed anything, as well!"Molly sneered at her. "You were under the age of consent when your parents died. You became a ward of the Ministry. It was very easy to arrange for your name to be entered into a contract.""How could you?" Ron whispered. "How can you stand there and act all righteous?" He glanced toward his father. "D-Dad wouldn't allow you to do such a thing."The Head of the Weasley family sat with his head bowed. He knew his wife could be greedy, but this was too much. "Molly, why?""Our only daughter wanted to marry the only son and Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Potter. She has since she first set eyes on him, at King's Cross. I could never deny her that, such an honorable desire, to be bonded to the Pureblood heir of another ancient Wizarding Family. No one would ever scoff at the name Weasley again. Not even the Malfoy's." "Hermione isn't a Pureblood. She's a Muggleborn.""That's where you are wrong, Ronald. Hermione's Great-Great Grandmother was a Pureblooded witch from the Colonies. She became sick with Dragon Pox and lost her magic, and later bore three Squib children. Hermione is the first witch in three generations to come into her magic. Even if it's not as pure, but she will do, since she is so gifted."Remus had been quiet. Keeping his growing anger in check. "You've done this all for money. You've ruined three lives, maybe more, by deciding you know what is best?" The Wolf's eyes were glowing amber, "They have fought and bled for a future where they could be happy. And you do THIS!" he roared. "You are no better than Voldemort himself!"She turned and stalked across the kitchen until she was nose-to-nose with the Werewolf. "Do not speak to me of who's better! You, who has taken a Death Eater as a lover. Lucius Malfoy! How low can you let your standards go? Even for you, a Magical Creature, a respected professor, and a War veteran, that is beneath you! What would Sirius think!""Sirius would want me to be happy, after all this time.""Then maybe you should know that he signed another contract. For Tonks! And you.""Then you drugged him! He always knew my feelings and my preferences--and respected them! How dare you!""How many contracts do you have Mother?" Percy asked, trying to keep his voice neutral. "How did you get away with so many?""The War, Dears." The older woman said turning on the Motherly charm. "So many were dying. The Minister wanted to preserve families. And what better way, than assuring bloodlines. If Harry had died, Ginny would have inherited his fortune as a bride-price.""You have it all planned out, don't you? Fooling all of us for so long. How were you going to get us all together? Kingsley won't allow these contracts to stand. He won't.""They are legal contracts, Harry, Dear." She looked smug--too smug. "And do you think, I will tell all my secrets. You can't incriminate me on hearsay.""My solicitors will be on this immediately! I did not give up the first part of my life to rid the Wizarding World of that demon, so YOU can take away the the rest of my life of freedom and happiness, I fought and made so many sacrifices for!" Harry was livid, his magic was rising, evidenced by the slight lifting of his hair and movement of his clothes, as it swirled about him. Everyone stepped back--except Molly. The woman who he had accepted as Mum and had now betrayed him.Hermione and Ron reached out, and grabbed Harry, pulling him from the kitchen; Remus right behind them, ushering them out. As they closed the door, the shouting began.The four had Apparated to the edge of the Hogsmeade wards that day. What they didn't know was that the village was under attack by the last remnants of Death Eaters, led by Bellatrix Lestrange. They never had a chance as they attacked and killed where they stood.Severus buried Harry four days later, next to his parents in Godric's Hollow. Remus, Ron and Hermione were laid to rest there as well. The Wizarding World was in an uproar when the events leading up to their deaths came to light. The reasons for them being in Hogsmeade, where they weren't supposed to be.All her match makings for the contracts, were listed in detail in a journal she kept. She was the mastermind of the plot, and the one who went to the Ministry, after approaching the others she knew were of a like mind.Harry Potter had been Molly Weasley's first target. He had money, was the sole heir of two ancient houses, and the Chosen One. She would accept nothing less for her little girl.The far reaching results of what the three had planned, was nothing short of what Voldemort and his Death Eaters had tried to do with the Wizarding World. They were making plans to bringing the Ancient Pureblood families under their control by arranging marriage contracts between key members of the old Families and new and gifted blood.The day after Harry Potter's Funeral, Molly Weasley, Delores Umbridge and Rufus Scrimgeour were arrested and placed in the same cell block as the captured Death Eaters. But Severus died that day as well. All his dreams of family and living his life with Harry at his side, were gone. And the knowledge that Harry was only days pregnant with twins, ripped the last remnants of his broken heart to shreds.He stayed behind, along with Lucius, Neville, and Draco as they covered the caskets holding the loves of their lives....as each shovel of dirt was placed down atop the caskets, a bit of each man was buried with them that day.It had been hard enough for everyone, living through the trials and sentencing of the three, and of the Death Eaters. But the worst had been the Weasley girl, only days after Harry's death, storming into Gringott's Bank, contract in hand, and demanding her Bride Price. All Harry's worldly possessions, lands, titles, homes, etc. They were hers because of his death; or so she assumed.Waiting in the Head of Gringott's office was a pensive full of memories of Sirius Black, showing his state of mind at the time he had been coerced into signing the bonding contracts. Albus Dumbledore took great pleasure in incinerating the document right in Ginny Weasley's hand. Minerva grieved for those left behind as well as those they'd lost, especially those four men. Each time she saw them, it broke her heart.Neville, she saw everyday as he was the Herbology teacher now, and Head of Gryffindor. After the death of Ronald Weasley, he became a quiet man. His plants and greenhouses his sanctuary.Draco and his father, worked the world of Politics. Both men became hard and cold. Men of Ice. There was no laughter or smiles from them anymore.Minerva often saw Lucius come to Hogwarts and change into his Animagius form, that of a white wolf and run wild under the full moon.And then there was Severus.They rarely saw him. After Harry's death, the man took up residence in a small cottage and chose to remain in seclusion. His dark hair was peppered with streaks of gray and white. The dark eyes were hollow and empty.In an effort to help in the healing process, the Town of Hogsmeade had erected a memorial in honor of the four who fell. There was no statue or grand plaque. But a park. A peaceful place for families to gather to play and love. The Wards were laid and built by the Goblins and Albus Dumbledore. The Park would always be in a state of eternal Springtime till the end of time. The Goblin's guaranteed it. For the memory of Harry Potter, friend of Goblins, and his friends and fellow warriors for the Light.Two trees stood side by side at the center of the park, planted there by Neville, while his three brothers-in-arms stood at his side. An Elder and a Birch, the symbols of life and death, symbolizing both the beginnings and endings of life.For months after the park was built and the wards laid, wizards and witches came and tied ribbons on the trees; ribbons in shimmering tones of green, silver, red and gold.Since the first anniversary of the deaths, Albus had placed all four men under an oath to join him on that day each subsequent year. He demanded it of them after he'd found them drunk on that day. He didn't want them to wallow in their sorrow, and he didn't want to loose them too.The four men would come to the graves, say hello to their loves, and then move onto the Castle where Minerva and Albus waited for them. This year was no different.Today, seven years later, each man would find themselves migrating to be with the other. They would always somehow start the day at the memorial. Minerva had visited earlier in the day, sitting on the bench, talking to them. Telling them about the new students and the goings on in the world. The elder Witch would sit and ponder all that had happened after the sad day all those years ago.This year it was the same as the last six, finding them all together again in Albus' office, contemplating the past, and sharing the good memories, and glasses of the rare Elfin wine Albus kept for such occasions, when someone very unexpected appeared from the green flames.James Potter.pqpqpqSeverus was the calmest of them. With tears in his eyes, his voice barely above a whisper, he spoke, "Please tell me, you have come to take me to Harry. Come to take me away from this wretched life, so I can be with my Harry again. All I want is to be with My Own again."James glided across the floor of the Headmaster's rooms. The man that would be forever young in everyone's eyes, stopped in front of the gathering. "No, Severus. I haven't come to take you back with me. It's not your time, or anyone else's in this room." The hazel-eyed man smiled as he looked at each of them."Lucius, Draco and Neville." The ghostly man nodded to each man. "You have all become fine upstanding men. As have you, Severus. You made my son happy when no one else could. And I thank you for that. Lily and I both do.""I couldn't keep him alive," Severus whispered.Albus cleared his throat, his own blue eyes untwinkling and seemingly afraid. "Why are you here, James?""Albus. Minerva.""Oh, James," Minerva whispered, a handkerchief held to her mouth."I come because the Goddess, with her blessing has given me leave to cross the Veil on this night of all nights. I come to bring you this." In the large pale hand rested a pocket watch; a very old pocket watch.Neville frowned. "I don't understand."James smiled. "Harry, my son. The babes he carried. Hermione and Ron... Remus, my old friend. They were not meant to die. Fate had not intended for them to die that day. The futures set out for them--for you--were mapped out and woven by the Fates long before you loved."Anguished, Lucius spoke, "Remus planned on advocating for more freedoms and better treatment of the Werewolves."James nodded, "The next generation would help usher in a new era in the Wizarding World. But now it lays dormant. Idle. Molly Weasley's plans threw everything into chaos. A Chaos that will destroy our way of life.""What will this watch do?" Draco asked."The Goddess has giving her blessing for me to bring you this--a time turner-- if you wish. Once you take it and go back, there will be no turning back. You must right what went wrong. You will have your memories but you can't speak of them. No one would believe you."Severus' nose flared. A bit of light came into his dark eyes. "Potter....James??The younger man looked over to Severus. "He's my son. The children he carries are my--and Lily's--grandchildren. Remus, is one of my dearest friends. Hermione and Ron have destinies of their own to fulfill. You have to help them. Please."Draco stood up quickly, "What happened!" he demanded."They did not cross over into the Summerland. Their souls have remained in limbo."Tbc... A/N:: what if I told you all....that I didn't know that I hadn't posted this chapter yet.. Chapter 3 in a couple of days.. sorry.. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter Three "They did not cross over into the Summerland. Their souls have remained in limbo." Severus' heart clinched in pain. His love was not waiting for him. "Why? Are they being punished?" Severus' heart was breaking as darkness threaten to overwhelm him."It wasn't their time. Their souls couldn't move on. Wouldn't move on." James looked just as pained as the men in the room."S-So, how do we bring them back?" Neville asked quietly."Not bring them back, turn back time." James held out the watch. "Stop their deaths.""James," Albus began, "Changing the past....""The Goddess wills it. The Fates will it." He spoke firmly, fixing an intense gaze on each of them, and finally resting on Severus."How do you know this?" Severus asked."I was given this task. I begged for it, as did Sirius and Lily. To give them a chance to live their lives the way they were meant to. Molly Weasley stole that from them. She handed them their death sentences by denying them their right to love who they wanted. I'm stealing back their lives and giving all of you the task of making it happen, since I am not able to do it myself."Lucius got up from his chair in one fluid motion and began pacing. He had finally accepted his life alone without Remus. That he was waiting for him on the other side. Right now, anything was better than living a half life. "What do we need to do, James?"They all seemed to lean forward as one, intent and eager to hear how they could regain their loved ones.James held out the watch, "take this and go back to before... Take it and bring the world back to rights and live a happy life. But remember, change only what is necessary, and no more.""How do we change things? Where do we begin?" Draco asked frantic and nervous."Where it began," Severus acknowledged. "We can't stop them from going to the Burrow, but we keep them from Hogsmeade.""Remember," James began, "You will have all of your memories and only speak to each other, not to your lovers.""Our first mission is to keep them alive after they leave the Burrow," Lucius advised. "From there we keep them safe and break the contracts by exposing Molly Weasley and her cohorts at the Ministry.""How do you advise that we do that?" Draco asked."We know what she's done and who her cohorts are," Severus spoke with enthusiasm for the first time in years. He was coming alive.James watched him closely, seeing a faint spark of what had once been there when the Slytherin had been friends with Lily. Guilt and sadness filled him."Boys," Albus spoke, "remember when you change one part of the past you change the path of the future.""The future," Neville began, "This future without Ron was...is something I don't want to live with. I'm not whole, I'm lost without him." Neville's anguish was as clear as the tears that welled in his eyes."None of us can live without those we love, so let's get on with it then!" Lucius announced firmly.Severus stood up and approached James, "We were all here in the office with Albus when the attack began--waiting on them to return. We spent an hour here after they left for the Burrow.""Yes," Lucius said as he gripped his cane and stood with Severus.James nodded. "Then you know where to begin.""Gentlemen?" Minerva whispered, but loud enough that all six men could hear her, even when they had forgotten she was in attendance, "Be safe on your journey and good luck in your endeavors. And make sure that infernal woman never interferes in other's lives again!"Severus, Lucius, Draco, and Neville dipped their heads in acknowledgment toward the once stern school teacher, "We'll do what needs to be done, Minerva," Severus purred, "Three Slytherin's and a Gryffindor, what more could you expect?""Och! Off with ye now!" She snapped, but her tone was warm.The four men gathered around James and waited for the man to speak or hand over the watch, with instructions. "Severus?""Failure is not an option, Potter. I won't fail him again."James handed him the watch, laying it in his palm, then folding his fingers over it, enclosing it with his own hands. "It's already set for the date and year that you are to return to. As I said, all of you will retain your memories of this timeline to help guide you on your quest. Once you've changed things, saving all four of them, you'll need your knowledge to protect them from other things that could occur."Severus stepped back, when James released his hand, and the group moved close together, so the magical chain on the Time Turner would encircle them all. "Love my son, Severus. Love him and live long together.""Thank you, James. I swear to you, I will make him happy.""No, thank you." James stepped back from the men, letting them get into position. "Just push the crown and the watch will begin to turn back time."Severus nodded, and as one all of the men around him looked down at the watch as he pushed the crown. A sensation they'd never felt before started whirling around them. Images seem to move past them in a swirling fashion. Almost dizzying in it's movements. Ghosts of the past flashed by, and sailed away into the mists around them, so quickly they weren't sure they'd seen them.-0-0-0-0-0-"Severus!"The man in question groaned as a hand patted his cheek, as the voice continued speaking, drawing him out of the fog that clouded his mind. "Come on love, wake up. You fell from your chair. As did Neville, Lucius and Draco. The four of you have us all worried."Severus recognized that voice now as things were becoming clearer! It was Harry! He must be dreaming. He didn't want to wake up. He wanted to hold that voice close to him and never let it go."Severus Alexander Salazar Snape! If you don't wake up, I'll call Poppy!"Severus opened his eyes to find himself looking into wonderful, familiar green eyes. "Harry?The green eyes twinkled with amusement. "Of course, it's me. Who else would it be?" Harry sat back, surprised, at the tears that welled up in his lover's eyes. "Severus, what's wrong? Did you hit your head? Maybe I should call Poppy!" He started to stand, to do just that.A hand shot out to grab his arm. "No! No, I'm fine. I--I just have a bit of a headache."Harry frowned as he looked at the others. They seemed to also be experiencing headaches. Something must be wrong. Did someone curse them? A delayed reaction? "Albus!"The older man was helping Remus get Lucius to his feet, when Harry called--yelled out--in panic. "Harry?""Check them for curses! Something is wrong!" The younger man was clearly heading into panic mode.Severus pulled at his young man. The love that brought him back from the brink of despair, "Harry.""I won't loose you, Severus. Someone has cursed you. I know it."Severus sat up, feigning rubbing at his temples. "I'm fine. We're fine. Look--the others are up now. Calm yourself, my love." His chest clenched. It felt so good to be able to say those words again, 'my love.' He soaked in the visage of Harry. He was wearing his ever present jeans and a green tee shirt that had seen better days, but the younger man had always been about comfort.Severus looked around the Headmaster's office at his fellow time travelers. All their faces were the same to a degree. Happiness and joy at seeing the one person that made them whole, alive again. Lucius, the cold hard man of the past was holding back tears of joy."Poppy should take a look at the four of you. I mean all of you collapsed at the same time. A delayed curse?" Hermione argued as she continued running her hands and wand over Draco, checking him for injuries, hexes, and curses. Eventually, the blond pulled her down onto his lap, causing her to squeak with surprise. That brought a grin to everyone's faces."Draco!" But the young man wouldn't stop what he was doing. It had been so long since he'd held her; could feel her skin under his hands or hear her voice, even taste her lips, he would not be thwarted as he pulled her down into a kiss.Just before his lips touched hers, he whispered, "I love you."She smiled against his lips then joined her lips to his, keeping the kiss from deepening too much, considering the others in the room. When they broke apart, she gave his besotted expression an odd look."I love you too, Dray, Luv. What's gotten into you?"Draco swallowed against the emotion welling up in his soul. Seven years. Seven years of hell without this woman. Looking at his companions, he was not alone in that sentiment. He could see it in their eyes.Severus was holding onto Harry like a lifeline. His father and Neville seemed to be clinging to their loves as well. "I just love you so much. I don't want to live a life without you."Hermione frowned. Draco wasn't usually this vocal about his feelings. "Are you sure you haven't been cursed when I wasn't looking?"He cleared his throat and smiled sheepishly. "No, I'm just thankful for what--and who, I have."Remus was worried. The feelings rolling off his mate and the almost death grip Lucius had on him was out of character. "I agree. What's going on with the four of you?"Severus knew that this needed Slytherin cunning and quick thinking as he spoke for all four men, "I think emotions are running high right now. We are about to reveal to the world, well the Weasley's at least, that we are to wed at Yule.""Nerves?" Ron questioned. Eying his own lover with a critical eye. "I know that Neville can be nervous at times, but the three of you?"Lucius' gaze flicked to his companions. "Well, Molly does have quite the reputation. It was already quite evident while we were still in school."Ron looked to the old clock on the mantle above the fireplace. "We need to leave or Mum will go spare if we're late."The four men looked at the other quickly and agreed. "I think we should go with you," Severus stated. "Show a united front.""United front?" Ron questioned. "This is my Mum and Dad. Not the enemy.""He means," Neville jumped in before things got out of hand. "That we shouldn't let you go alone to tell them. We should do it together. I should be the one to announce that you are bonding with me. As Pureblood tradition dictates. Gran would have expected it.""Yes," Draco said as he listened to Neville's quick thinking. "As should I. It would be proper." He looked at his father, who nodded his approval."And I agree," Severus added. "No more hiding." Out of the corner of his eye, he noted how much Albus' eyes were twinkling."I think I should go, as well." Albus chimed in. "This could be good fun."Severus cringed inwardly. Oh, the next hour or so was not going to be fun. It would be the beginning of hell and he'd be damned if he'd let that old hag win this time around. No, he knew the rules of the game that she'd begun so long ago. This time, he would checkmate her as he cornered her in her own game.He wasn't a Slytherin for nothing.Severus grinned to his fellow travelers. Let the games begin and bring it on Molly Weasley. TBC.... Would you all believe I thought I had posted this chapter??? oops!
10045046	hold your hair in deep	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Otabek Altin, Yuri Plisetsky, Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri, Lilia Baranovskaya", "Fandom": "Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by blueberrynikiforovv", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-02T00:00:00", "words": "2,754", "Additional Tags": "Birthday, Birthday Presents, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, I guess????, also background victuuri whats up, Fluff, Out of Character, I'm Sorry", "Relationship": "Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky", "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 }	Yuri woke up later than usual. He would be free for the day so he decided to sleep more than usual, maybe try sleeping around 8 hours that night instead of his usual 5 hours.He rubbed his eyes and squinted as he tried to find his phone under his pillows. When he found it, he unlocked it and checked the hour and date. It was around 11 AM and the date was...March 1st.It wasn't as late as he thought it was, so he relaxed on his bed and as he was about to lock his phone to sleep a few extra minutes his phone vibrated and heard the whistling sound his phone made when he received a new message. He was about to get angry until he saw who had sent it.It was Otabek. He relaxed again as he opened the message to see what it said.> So, uh. It's your birthday today so, uh...> Happy birthday, Yura.Yuri smiled as he read the text. It felt nice to see Otabek's birthday wishes first thing in the morning. Sure, his fans probably sent him those the minute it was March 1st, they always did, but it felt better coming from his friend.He decided to write his response.> Woah, thank you. It's nice too see this first thing in the morning.Now he planned to get up and go have breakfast or take a shower, now that he wasn't sleepy anymore.A new message appeared on Yuri's screen.> I bought you a little something. It's like a birthday present.> oh shit that sounds Great> Are you doing anything today?> Not really, wanna hang out?> Yeah that was I was going to ask you> Are Victor and Yuuri going to organize a cute little party for birthday boy?> Yikes I hope not.> They're in Japan so they're not here this year.> But uh, Yakov and Lilia wanted to bake me my grandpa's cake recipe so I can't be back too late.> Aren't you going to see him?> He'll come over on the weekend.> Oh good> So...> At your place or mine?> I would prefer yours, I don't want bday boy to have to take like an hour to walk here.> I mean I don't mind it. At least at your place I don't have to """""control my lenguage""""" as I have to do here so uh> Ok, if you want to it's okay. I'm gonna have to clean up here though.> You gotta keep your house clean for me> Anything for bday boy, right?Yuri chuckled as he saw the message. As he thought of a response he heard somebody knocking his bedroom door, it was Lilia."Yuri, come have breakfast." she said. Only once was enough for Yuri to comply, but first he wrote a response to Otabek and left his phone charging.> I'm gonna have breakfast now. At your place at 2?> Sounds good to me.Yuri decided to fix his messy hair a little bit as he stood up from his bed and walk to the door.He walked in direction to the table, and he saw a cup of warm tea and a sandwich were in the spot he usually ate in.Lilia was cleaning an empty cup and a plate near the table. "And Yakov?" Yuri asked."He went to do some things. He went out before you woke up, and he should be back soon." the woman said."Lilia, I have to ask you something.""What is it?""Can I hang out with a friend today?""Do I know him? Is it the boy with the ugly undercut, around your height that you usually talk to when you practice together?""Yeah, it's him. Can I go to his house today?""If you tidy your room before you go, then you can. But you have to be back before seven.""I will, don't worry." Yuri said as he walked to his seat on the table."He's not a bad influence, is he?""Regardless of what he may look like, he's a good guy.""I hope you have a decent enough taste for friends. But I want to meet him myself, so try to make him come here soon for that.""I will.""Good. Now eat your breakfast before it gets cold.""Yes, ma'am..."Yuri ate his breakfast quickly, as usual, as Lilia cleaned the house without rest.When he was done with it, he walked to his room to tidy it. Ever since he lived with Lilia and Yakov he had to get used to house responsabilities, such as doing the dishes, cooking his own food, cleaning his room and trying not to make a mess. But now, after a few months, he finally got the hand of it, even managing to do it before Lilia told him to.As he was done with that, he called the woman to go see the room and see for herself if the room was clean enough. It was, so she gave Yuri the permission he wanted.He still had a little time before he had to take a shower, change his clothes and prepare to go to Otabek's house, so he spent it on his phone, looking at his fans' birthday wishes, pictures they took of him with filters and birthday related stickers and a few video edits here and there. Yuri usually cringed when he saw fan content related to him, but the birthday ones were always really sweet.His phone started vibrating and showed that Victor was calling him. Yuri sighed."Yurio! Happy birthday! You just turned sixteen, right?" Victor said happily, almost screaming to his ear."Uh-, thanks. And yeah.""Yuuri is also here, he also wants to talk to you!" Victor passed the phone to his fiancé, mumbling things that Yuri couldn't understand well. Then he heard Yuuri's voice speak."Yurio, happy birthday! You've grown up so much, I can't believe you're sixteen now." Yuuri said."You saw me last week.""But last week you were still fifteen, you were still a child! Now you're just a slightly older child." Victor interrupted."I'm not a child." Yuri said, slightly annoyed. Well, not 'slightly'."Yes, you are. To me, you're still a baby, at least.""I'm happy that I still remain my hair and I'm not balding because I'm almost thirty like you."Yuri heard a loud sound, as if the phone had been dropped."Yurio!" Yuuri said from the phone. "You just killed Victor!""We didn't raise you to make fun of my hairline!" Victor yelled, sounding like he was far away from the phone."Your hairline it's just begging to be made fun of. You didn't even raise me in the first place, what's your point?""I did find a lot of your hair on the shower, though..." Yuuri said, also sounding far away from the phone, most likely talking to Victor."But that was your fault!""I'M LEAVING BYE." Yuri said loudly as he hung up.Just as he thought he could finally relax he noticed that he had unread messages from other skaters.A couple of messages from Georgi, six from Mila, two from JJ -why hadn't Yuri block him yet?- and the rest were other random skaters.He was happy to receive birthday wishes and validation from other people, but he was too lazy to read them.He checked the clock, it was 12:45, time to take a quick shower and prepare to go to Otabek's house.Or crib, as Yuri also liked to call it.He left his phone charging again, why did his battery last so little? It was already 70%.After showering, it was time to choose his clothes from his massive closet filled with clothes that looked like they were all from Hot Topic. He decided to go with just his favorite black jeans and a loose black shirt with a red kitty silhouette on the front side. Yuri claimed it to be as badass as it was adorable.He heard Lilia's instructions one last time and walked out the door, starting the music on his phone and putting his dark red earbuds. He had his breakfast late, so he didn't feel like eating lunch before going.Yeah, he looked like an edgy teenager −which he was− and he was secretly dying from the combination of back clothing and a little bit of heat, but he felt good.The trip to Otabek's house left him exhausted, but the moment he was in front of the kazakh's door he felt like he had just recharged and felt like he hadn't just walked half an hour to get there.He knocked the door and it opened a few seconds later, and Otabek was there."Hi." Otabek said with a monotone tone"Is that the only thing you're going to say?" Yuri chuckled."Okay. Hi, birthday boy." he kept the monotone voice."That's better."Yuri stepped into the house −crib− and settled on his usual place of the sofa. Some good manners would be nice."Do you wanna drink something? I only have some water and soda, I can't let you drink alcohol.""Huh, why? Soda it's boring and fattening.""Then I'm giving you water.""Uh... You have mineral water?""Yeah.""Then I want that.""Understood, birthday boy.""It's my birthday, try not to make me cringe.""You cringe with everything, Yuri.""... Well, yeah."Yuri saw Otabek as he walked to the kitchen. He relaxed on the pillows of the sofa as if it was his own house. Yup, good manners are needed.Otabek came back with a glass of mineral water and a can of beer."If you meant I couldn't drink because of your country's drinking laws, then why are you drinking beer?""Because I wanted some.""Then why can't I have some?""You're sixteen. And live with Lilia, if she finds out I would be castrated.""The first point was bullshit.""To me it isn't. I still can't get used to Russia's laws.""That explains a lot. Can you at least let me drink a sip?""Only one. And won't it be too strong for you?""I accidentally drank vodka from my grandpa's glass when I was 9 thinking it was water." Yuri sounded proud of his experience."That's really relevant." Otabek said with a sarcastic tone."It is!"Otabek sat next to Yuuri with his can of beer, and let Yuri take a small sip of it."I want more." The blond said."No, you don't." Otabek answered.Yuri pouted.They kept talking, they talked about many things, from figure skating stuff to cats, from music to social media things that Otabek had no idea of.Otabek just smiled as he heard Yuri talk, him being the one that led the conversation and talked the most. He sighed without noticing, he looked at him... Lovingly ... To say the least.Yuri noticed that, and stopped talking for a little bit."Uh, did I say something wrong or...?" he sounded genuinely worried, something not many people had the pleasure of hearing.Otabek went back to reality and shook his head a little bit. "No, no. It's nothing."They both kept quiet for a few seconds, only looking at each other without reacting.Yuri decided to break the silence. "Can I... take another sip of your beer?""Only one more." Otabek said as he passed the beer to Yuri, their hands touching for a short moment, but enough for Otabek to notice and move his hand away quickly. Yuri didn't notice."Don't worry."Otabek stood up. "I have to give you my present, wait here. And don't drink my whole beer.""Yeah, yeah, don't worry." Yuri chuckled again.Otabek walked to one of the rooms of his house and walked out quickly with a big box on his hands.It was a pretty big box, Otabek could barely hold it with his big hands.Yuri could not hide the surprised look on his face. "What do you got there?""Your present."Now Yuri had the expression of an excited puppy. Or excited kitty. His eyes were sparkling, his cheeks had a cute pink color to them and his lips formed a slight, adorable smile. He looked adorable.Otabek blushed slightly as he moved closer to Yuri and gave him the box. "Here you go, birthday boy.""Woah, this is amazing!" Yuri said. "Can I open it?"Otabek gulped. "Go ahead."Yuri started opening the box carefully, ripping the tape that held it together with his nails.Inside of the box was a big... something covered in some sort of wrap. Yuri took the light 'something' in his hands and quickly unwrapped the gift, which was easy considering it was messily wrapped with only a long piece of whatever it was around it.Yuri noticed that Otabek wasn't looking at him, and stared into the side instead. Yuri decided to ask him what was wrong after he was done with his gift.His eyes opened even more as he saw the gift. It was a cheesy-as-fuck sort of gift, but Yuri came to love it anyways.It was a really big random kitty plushie, it was very squishy, like a pillow. It was adorable as fuck."Sorry it's so cheesy and cliché. But that cat is cute, so I thought you would like it." Otabek said.Yuri usually thought those type of gifts were the whitest 12-year-old thing ever, but seeing it come from Otabek made kitty gifts 150% better.Yuri slowly walked to Otabek, leaving the plushie in the sofa and stood in front of Otabek.Otabek was getting worried, and he was about to say something but he was interrupted as Yuri hugged him tightly. Otabek knew Yuri wasn't used to hugging people other than his grandpa, and it was their first hug ever; Otabek was happy to notice that Yuri's were the warmest and adorable hugs ever.Since they were around the same height, Yuri ended up with his head hidden between his neck and his shoulder."Yuri..?" Otabek still sounded worried."Thank you.""It's... just a plushie...""Yeah, but... It's a cat plushie. I love it." Yuri sighed, making Otabek shiver slightly. "And it's your present, so it's even better."Otabek's hand must have moved on its own, but it ended up caressing Yuri's hair as his other arm settled down around his waist. He was surprised Yuri didn't make any effort to move or push him away, and instead hugged him ever tighter."Now this is a surprise..." Otabek said."I don't want to move away, though."Otabek smiled. "I don't want to, either."Otabek did not even notice or know what was going through his head when his body acted on its own again and kissed the top of Yuri's head.They both paralized as reality hit them. Yuri decided to move away from the hug, his hair covering part of his face, but even so the blush on it was obvious.The blush on Otabek's was also obvious."I..." Otabek wanted to say something, but he couldn't get the words to come out of his mouth."Did you mean it or...?" Yuri said first."It was in the heat of the moment, I..."Yuri was looking down. "Oh, that explains a lot."Otabek moved closer to Yuri. "That doesn't mean I disliked doing it..."It was so strange to see such a quiet Yuri. Otabek had expected to see him react badly, give him a weirded-out expression or just run away. But he was certainly proud of that sight.Yuri moved closer to Otabek as he was deep in thought, and without thinking twice, he kissed him, soft and quick.It was just a peck kiss, but that didn't take away the meaning that Yuri gave to it that Otabek understood at the moment their lips touched."Yuri, do you really...?""Sorry, I really wanted to do that..." Yuri said.Otabek's face softened as he heard that, and caressed Yuri's hair again. "It's okay, I'll let you do it anytime you want.""Really?" Yuri's face lit up, his blush wasn't as obvious as before, but it was still there."Yeah, it was sweet.""If that's the case, can I do it again?""Sure thing."Sure, a straight up confession would have worked out better, not as awkward and more straightforward, but they both managed to make each other understand their feelings without even saying it. They would talk it over later.
10079756	Halloween Shenanigans	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Walt Strickler, Stricklander, Barbara Lake, Jim Lake Jr. (Trollhunters), Toby Domzalski, Claire Nuñez, NotEnrique (Trollhunters), Blinky (Trollhunters), Aaarrrgghh (Trollhunters), Original Female Character(s)", "Fandom": "Trollhunters (Cartoon)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Pikuna", "chapters": "1/5", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-08T00:00:00", "words": "1,823", "Additional Tags": "Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Trick or Treating, Pranks, chasing troublemakers, date, Going out, Romance, Comedy", "Relationship": "Barbara Lake/Walt Strickler", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "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 }	The first dozen times it was amusing to watch the humans using all kinds of excuses to dress up in either a very fancy way or to scare others. In his first years as human Stricklander even participated in the dress ups with eager. But with the decades it got more and more tedious and lost its appeal. What was the joy in dressing up and pretending to be someone else, when it's something you do all day long? Even when he wasn't lying about his true self anymore, he hardly could find the joy of such festivities as Halloween again, since the traditions had changed so drastically in a way he wasn't very pleased with. Albeit, there were still a few things he enjoyed from this holiday, the pumpkin carving as example. He had joined this activity to show Jim and his friend how to properly carve a pumpkin, but somehow it ended with him and Jim having some kind of competition who could carve pumpkins the quickest. Stricklander had been able to declare himself the winner, which was most satisfying, but hadn't saved him from cleaning up the mess with the others. Another amusing event had been, when Draal had opened the door for some early trick-or-treaters. He had refused to give the children candies, mostly because he didn't know about this tradition. As a result they had thrown rotten eggs at the Troll, when he had been out in the garden. Stricklander and Jean hadn't been able to hold back and laugh at Draal when he had looked like a stunned mullet, while Jim had to stop the Troll from either attacking the children or the Changelings. As soon as the sun had completely set the Human teenagers, Trolls (besides Draal) and Changelings had left the house to watch the Halloween parade and go on a short trick-or-treat round. Stricklander couldn't help the sense of unease sliding through him at the thought of letting Jean go outside on a night where playing pranks was the norm, but he hadn't want to rob the girl from her only opportunity to be among human crowds. He just had to trust Jim and the other to have a watchful eye on her. Right now Stricklander sat on the couch in the living room, nervously fidgeting with the newspapers. He hated being nervous, but he couldn't help it. A few days ago Barbara had asked him, if he would come with her to the Halloween party of the hospital. He had been very surprised by this, for one because he was pretty sure she was still - of course justified - mad at him for what he had done to her and he hadn't gone out since he only had his troll form now. But Barbara had a good point, people would simply assume it was a costume and when she dropped the word 'date' during her speech he readily agreed to come. While his Troll form covered the costume for him, Barbara hadn't told him yet what she would dress up as, saying it would be a surprise. Stricklander knew that she was a proper woman, so he doubted that she would wear one of these indecent things that a lot of Human females liked to wear this age, much to his dislike. He had no problem with admitting that he was old-fashioned. It simply was his opinion that those costumes shouldn't be worn in public. Barbara had been up in her room since afternoon, when she had ordered them to clean up and Stricklander started to wonder if she would need help with her costume. He had just stood up, when he heard steps from above leaving Barbara's room. "Sorry that I took so long. Should've kept in mind that the body paint takes a while to dry up," Barbara called to him, while she walked down.Body paint? With a raised eyebrow Stricklander left the living room to meet her at the staircase. When he spotted her at the last steps of it, he stopped dead in his track and his eyes went wide. Barbara wore a black, long-sleeved, fringed dress that only had laces to cover her sternum and back. The skin, that wasn't covered by the dress, was colored in a shimmering teal color, which made her hair - which she currently wore open, only tied up together at the tip of it - stand out so much more. It took him several seconds to notice the little horns on her head and the drawn markings on the teal skin. She looked like a...like a..."So, what do you say?" she asked him after she had descended the stairs completely and turned one time around so he could inspect her from all sides. "I have the feeling that the dress might be a bit too fancy for a troll costume, but I hadn't had a chance to wear it for years."Stricklander was still so flabbergasted by her appearance that he didn't react immediately. The dress wasn't cut in any risqué way, but his heart still thumped very hard in his chest by the sight of her half covered legs and back. She looked utterly attractive right now and her glasses, that she still wore, gave her whole look an adorable note. Only after a few seconds he was able to react by shaking his head and stammered slightly."T-Troll?" It was rather obvious with how accurate Barbara had made this Troll costume, even when it would be more correct to label her as a Changeling for her more human shape. But Stricklander couldn't care less about this little detail right now. In his eyes Barbara had always been one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen in his long life, tho he had to admit it always had been the human part of him who thought so. With her looking like this it was now the turn of his Troll side to appreciate this gorgeous sight before him."Since half of the family is going out as Trolls, I wanted to follow the trend," Barbara explained with a shrug, but then looked to the side with a nervous smile "And well....I thought it would be a nice idea to have some kind of...couple costume."When his heart had thumped hard before, it was now leaping up to his throat. He wanted to be happy about this, because when this wasn't a major hint then he didn't know what it was. But he hard such a hard time right now to comprehend this, why Barbara was still so nice to him, after all the things he had done.Meanwhile Barbara was misinterpreting his shocked state and started to fumble with her hands."Oh boy, I really hope I didn't do something offensive with this. Maybe I really should've asked before." she mumbled, when Stricklander suddenly talked again."Why?" The question was asked rather quiet and Barbara looked up to him with a confused expression. He continued with a sigh. "Why are you doing this Barbara? I mean...I don't want to appear ungrateful, but there is certainly somebody more suitable you...you could go with to the party.""What do you mean with more suitable?" Barbara asked with a frown."Someone who's default state isn't a monster!" Stricklander pointed at himself, voice gone rather angrily. But than he deflated and looked guilty to the ground. "Someone who hasn't taken advantage of you to protect their own sorry life.""And that's all?" she asked almost nonchalant, which makes him looking up puzzled. "Walt, you are living here for months, I'm used to the way you look now.""Being used to and...that are two different things," he grumbled, not really clarifying what that exactly was. "Still, I'm a grown woman and I can decide for myself, if I like this true form of you or not." Barbara stepped closer and started to poke his chest "And yes, you did a lot of horrible things. Using me as shield, threatening Jim and his friends, wanting to kill him and god knows what."With every poke Stricklander went back a step and made himself smaller. Guilt was clear on his face and he looked ashamed to the side. Barbara stops with the poking and smiled at him again."But you are showing remorse and trying to fix things. You are protecting us with your life." He dared to look to her and her smile grew even more warm. "Maybe Jim and I won't never really forgive you for the things you've done in the past. But we trust you now that you won't do these things again." Carefully she took his hands in hers. "Besides I do remember saying that I like spending time with you. And that hasn't changed.""Barbara..." His voice was hoarse from all the emotion that were caused by her words. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and then looked at her again, expression full of gratitude, but still with a hint of doubt. "I'm really not sure if I deserve this...""You do. You have earned yourself some good things, so get used to it," she grinned and squeezed his hand, whereupon he had to chuckle. Since he seemed to be okay again, Barbara changed the topic back to her costume."So, you still haven't told me how I look like. I need the opinion of a professional." she said and looked expectant at him. Stricklander hummed, but before he answered he leant down and raised her hands to his lips to kiss them. "You look more beautiful than any gemstone I've ever seen," he gave his opinion in a deep tone. His voice and the way he looked so enamored at her made Barbara blush and giggle a bit bashfully. "I think I like this trollish smooth-talking." "Well, I could go on all evening, if you want to," he said in a suave manner, his confidence - and also hope - boosted after Barbara's little speech. His reward was another cute giggle from her, but before she could reply the loud bang of the backdoor interrupted them. They looked into the direction of the kitchen and heard Draal's distinctly mumble of "Fleshbag children.""He calls himself the Deadly, but is afraid of a few human children," Stricklander scoffed and straighten up again. Barbara let go of his hands and put her's on the hips."You would also be afraid of them, if they would aim with eggs at you." she said with a smirk that he returned. "Can't argue with that." He then went to the front door and opened it for Barbara. "But for now, we should go. Fashionably late is good, but we don't want to be too late, right?""Of course not," she said and rolled her eyes in fond annoyance and grabbed her purse to follow him outside to the car.
10078385	The Selection	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Eren Yeager, Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Armin Arlert, Erwin Smith, Mikasa Ackerman, Annie Leonhart, Hange Zoë, Ashlynn Owens (my original character), Furlan Church, Isabel Magnolia, Marco Bott, Jean Kirstein, Lillian Yeager, May Yeager, Maria Yeager, Nao Yeager, Taro Yeager, Kuchel Ackerman, Reid Ackerman (my original character)", "Fandom": "Shingeki no Kyojin \| Attack on Titan", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by makinghistory", "chapters": "3/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-04T00:00:00", "words": "1,610", "Additional Tags": "Slow Build, Angst, Fluff, Eventual Relationships, Denial of Feelings, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, only Levi and his family are vampires, everyone else is human, Tall Levi, he's only a few inches taller though", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Levi/Eren Yeager, Armin Arlert/Erwin Smith, Mikasa Ackerman/Annie Leonhart, Hange Zoë/Original Character(s), Furlan Church/Isabel Magnolia, Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "F/F, F/M, M/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	[Levi Ackerman]I walk down the empty castle halls to the dining room, my servant told me that my family would be waiting there for me. It's early in the morning and I was practicing piano, my favorite instrument. That's until my servant, Alfred came and told me that breakfast was ready. Now, here I am walking to breakfast in the empty corridors of the castle. I arrive in the dining room, my parents and younger sister are at the table. My sister smiles when she sees me and I take a seat next to her, the maids come out with dishes. The last maid serves my food, and it's all of my favorite breakfast foods! Pancakes, fresh berries, bacon, and apple strudel! She hands me a cup and pours hot water in it, my favorite kind of tea. The maids leave us alone and I start eating, savoring the sweet pancake drenched in syrup. As I eat, I feel eyes burning into my skull. I glance up from my plate and my parents, including Mikasa, are looking at me."Is there anything wrong?" I ask, trying to remember if I did something bad."No, honey, how's the food?""It's really good, it's all of my favorite breakfast food." I eye my parents, "what did I do to deserve this?"My mom beams. "You're our perfect son, you deserve it.""What is actually going on?" I ask, and the happiness in my mother's eyes is replaced with nervousness."Well, you see-""Your selection starts next week, this week will be for preparations." My father finishes. I'm speechless. My family gives me a hopeful look and I roll my eyes."I refuse to participate," I say simply, which causes chaos across the table."You can't just refuse to participate, Levi!" Mikasa exclaims."Yes, Levi, your sister is correct. You can't just refuse, you are the bachelor." My mom adds."We already skipped you already with my selection, but now it's your turn!" She is not wrong, I didn't want to do my selection last year. My sister did hers and found herself a beautiful bride, her name is Annie Leonhardt. She lives in and out of the castle, which is unfortunate because I would love to see her every day. She is really nice and quiet, but apparently, she's an asshole to most people. She sometimes doesn't fail to show that."Levi, please don't start again." My father sighs."Start what? I don't want to get married to anyone, I'm fine alone. I don't want a lover, they're gonna be a distraction.""Levi, sweetheart. They won't be a distraction," my mother says."Another person in my life is gonna be distracting, they're gonna be whiny and needy. I don't need that in my life, I'm too young.""Honey, you have no choice," Mikasa adds."I do have a choice, it's my life. In my life, I make my own choices. No one else needs to make my fucking choices, except for me.""Levi," my father warned.I slam my hand on the table. "No! I won't have it. I will not let you control my life like this."My father slams his fist on the table, the loud boom echoing through the dining room. There's anger in his eyes."You're being a whiny brat right now, Levi. I will not have this. You will either have a selection or-""Or what?" I challenge with a smirk."Or we could just make this an arranged marriage with the other kingdoms." I am silenced by this option, an arranged marriage is so much worse.My mother lets out a breath. "The selection is the best option, sweetheart. It gives you a chance of actually meeting a soulmate instead of us forcing one.""Why do I have to get married at all?! I don't want to be pinned down with a husband and children.” I try to argue again."Levi Ackerman, you can either accept the selection or marry a princess from Rose. It’s your decision.” My father says. There is still fury present in his eyes. I hate Princess Rose, she disgusts me. Having to be by her side for the of eternity would be hell. I can only go with the best option at this point.“I’ll accept the selection,” I mumble. The table is silent in shock."Good choice," Mikasa says.My mother beams, “then we’ll send out the message!” A feeling of regret sinks in my stomach, how am I going to overcome this? ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- [Eren Jaeger] I walk back home, hearing the gossip around town. Everyone is talking about Prince Levi’s selection. His younger sister had hers last year, I wasn’t chosen that year. I arrive home from the busy town of Trost when I walk in the door my little sister comes running. “Eren is home!” She announces. I smile and pick her up. “How are you doing, Lily?” I ask her. “Good.” She replies. I place her back down on the ground and she tugs my arm. She looks so excited. Her socked feet drag against the wooden floor as she tries to pull me with her. “What’s wrong, Lil?” “We have great news! You just have to come and see, mom nearly cried!” The news must’ve been life-changing if my mom nearly cried. I follow Lily to the living room, there mom sits with an envelope and a big smile on her face. She gets up when she sees me, gripping the envelope tightly in her hands. “Mom, what’s that?” I question, looking at the white colored envelope. “It’s from the King and Queen, Eren! You’ve been selected.” I give her a confused look, “what does that mean?” “You’ve been chosen!” Lily squeals, jumping up and down. “Wait, for Prince Levi’s selection?!” The selection isn’t just some raffle thing, it's where you go and meet the royal family. It’s a competition! You live in the castle for a period of time then Prince Levi picks a husband. If you're chosen, you get to marry Prince Levi and live in the castle. Along with your family! “That’s right, Eren! I’m so happy for you, my son.” “Do you think Levi will pick him?” Lily asks. Mom sighs, “there's gonna be another fifty compatible boys as well. We can only hope he gets a chance.” “He should! Look at him. He's gorgeous,” Lily exclaims. I feel my cheeks heating up and look sheepishly away. “See! Adorable. Perfect ocean blue eyes, tan skin, and brown hair! With a nice figure as well. No Prince can deny him!” “He may have looks, Lillian. But the Prince might want a good personality.” Lily winces, “uh oh.” “What's wrong with my personality?” I ask. Lily and mom both look at each other with a knowing look. “Honey, you tend to argue a bunch. Also, you're the most hot-headed person I know.” “I am not an easily tempered,” I argue. “Sure, honey. But enough of the chatter. I have to make a grand meal to celebrate!” My mom says before leaving the room. “I have to clean up the house a bit,” Lily mutters to herself. She grabs a white envelope and hands it to me. I read the front, it's from Armin. I'm suddenly very excited. I wonder if I'll see him soon. I rip open the envelope and start reading the letter. I miss you too, Armin. I wish you the best. Armin has been my closest friend since diapers, we did everything together. A few months ago, when he was selected. He didn't want to leave me behind, but I assured him that I would be fine. The first letter I received had tear stains on them, apparently, the other competitors are mean to him. As the weeks went by the bullying got easier for him. He was always bullied in school for his feminine figure, but I think it suits him. Along with his blonde hair. I hope it gets easier for him. I run up to my room and start writing him back. Dear Armin, Life in the castle must be more amazing than it is here! I miss you so much. I hope Erwin chooses you as your husband, you deserve to be happy. You wouldn't believe the news I just received! I was chosen for Prince Levi's selection, remember that his sister's was last year? Now It's his turn, I'm so excited. Write me some advice, so I won't fuck up. Love, Eren I finish writing the letter and fold it before putting it in the envelope. I wonder how Levi's selection will go. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- I will be discontinuing this story for a while because I’m deleting this account and making a brand new one.I've been on this account for the longest time and I’ve grown so much since then fandoms and writing wise and I think that I should leave this account to a better one. You’re probably asking why? There’s no point.Here are my reasons:1. My writing has improved and I want to show that on my new account2. I want a new clean slate (new year, new me sort of)3. I had this account since late 7th grade and I’m in 9th nowI know there’s not a bunch but just go with me here. I promise that I will finish this story since I have great ideas for it but it’s gonna be on my new account.Either that or I can delete everything on this account, change my name, and then post again.Thanks so much for taking the time to read this and I hope you understand!!
10051496	Son and Heir	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Jennifer Taylor, Craig Taylor, Michael Novotny, Lindsay Peterson", "Fandom": "Queer as Folk (US)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by jule1122", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-02T00:00:00", "words": "8,501", "Additional Tags": "Minor character death (Craig)", "Relationship": "QAF Brian/Justin", "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 }	Brian knew something was wrong when Jennifer showed up at the loft. It wasn’t that they didn’t talk; they did, but generally by phone. Shortly after Justin moved to New York, Jennifer had declared wedding or no wedding, as far as she was concerned, Brian was her son-in-law. When she hadn’t seen Justin in a while and wanted to check up on him without hovering, she called Brian. For his part, Brian found ways to reassure her while pretending he wasn’t in almost constant contact with Justin. It worked for both of them.He had a brief moment of panic when he saw her standing there before he remembered he’d talked to Justin only ten minutes ago. There wasn’t enough time for something to have happened to him, and even if there was, Brian would know before Jennifer.“I need a drink.” Those were the first words out of her mouth once Brian invited her in. She shook her head when he reached for a bottle of wine, smiling when he picked up the gin instead.“So what did Molly do now?” Brian asked while mixing her drink. Molly wasn’t Justin. She hadn’t left home and found an older lover. Instead she became the quintessential child of divorce, perfecting the art of playing one parent against the other. There always seemed to be something she wanted, something she was demanding of Jennifer in proof that Jennifer was the parent that loved her best.“It’s not Molly; it’s Craig. He’s dying.”Brian smiled and lifted his own glass, “Cheers.”“I’m not kidding.”“Neither am I,” Brian poured himself another drink. He wouldn’t pretend to have even the slightest regard for Craig’s life.“As much as I understand the sentiment, that’s not why I’m here. It’s about Justin.”“The bastard doesn’t think he’s going to ask Justin for blood or an organ.” It wasn’t a question. There was no way, no fucking way, Brian would let Justin be put at risk for Craig.“God, no. It’s beyond that anyway.” At Brian’s raised eyebrow, the closest he could come to an inquiry, she continued. “It’s cancer. Pancreatic they think, but by the time they found it, it had spread everywhere. Treatment was pointless, and now it’s just a matter of time. He wants to see Justin.”“Jennifer,” Brian blew out a long breath. It was Justin’s choice, of course, but to even ask that of him. . . “Are you sure?”“I saw him today,” Jennifer nodded. “He’d been keeping it a secret, but like I said, he doesn’t have much time. A few weeks, maybe, and those will be spent in the hospital. He finally told Molly last night, and he asked her to tell me.”Brian saw the slight sheen of tears in Jennifer’s eyes, and although he ignored them, he bit back his words about Craig’s thoughtlessness in passing that task on to Molly, and passing Justin off onto Jennifer.“I don’t know how he’ll react,” Brian said when the silence between them became awkward.“I know, and whatever he decides is fine. I think even Craig understands that.” She closed her eyes briefly, opening them and smiling when Brian snorted. “But he has to be told. And Brian. . .”“I’ll do it,” he said in answer to her unasked question. He’d been doing the heavy lifting where Justin was concerned for years. There was no reason for this to be any different.“Thank you,” she hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. “I should be going. I need to see Molly, make sure she’s okay.”Brian escorted her to the door, not surprised when she paused. “Don’t wait too long.”He nodded and waited until the elevator was on its way down to shut the door. He rested his head on the cool metal for a moment before shouting, “Fuck.” He didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to bring Craig back into Justin’s life. They hadn’t spoken since Craig had Justin arrested years ago, and Justin never expressed the slightest desire to change that. But Craig wasn’t completely out of the picture. Brian knew Justin blamed him for Molly’s continued resentment of Justin. While she had no problem with Justin being gay, she did accept her father’s belief that Justin’s selfishness had ruined their family. They were polite for Jennifer’s sake, but that was about the extent of their relationship, and Brian knew that bothered Justin.After pacing the loft for a few minutes, Brian picked up the phone. “Hey,” he said in response to Justin’s greeting. “I have some unexpected free time Friday afternoon so I thought I’d come up for the weekend. That work for you?”“Sure.” Justin sounded a little confused, which was understandable, considering Brian hadn’t mentioned anything about visiting when they spoke earlier. “Everything okay?”“Everything’s fine. I’m just desperate for an above average fuck,” Brian hoped he sounded convincing.“Above average, huh?” Justin laughed. “I think I can accommodate you.”“You bet your ass you can. I’ll see you soon.” Brian hung up to the sound of Justin’s continued laughter. He set the phone down and rubbed his eyes. How the fuck was he going to do this? Brian was almost asleep, head resting comfortable in the small of Justin’s back, when he heard Justin speak.“What’s wrong?”“Not a damn thing.” And Brian wasn’t exaggerating. At that moment he was almost unbearably content. And exhausted. They’d fucked twice, well three times if you count jerking each other off in the hallway immediately after Brian arrived, in the past six hours. He’d fucked Justin in the shower before they’d gone out for the evening. Justin had discovered yet another new club he wanted to show Brian, but desire had led to an early night, and Brian had spent the last hour becoming intimately reacquainted with every inch of Justin’s body. He didn’t have a care in the world.“I mean why are you here?”Justin rolled over beneath him, and Brian was almost too distracted by his sudden proximity to Justin’s cock, soft as it might be, to remember exactly why he was there. He’d hoped to avoid this conversation for a while longer, but he should have known better. As he and Justin moved closer to being back in the same city, their visits shifted from spontaneous, whirlwind trips, to longer, planned stays that allowed them to readjust to living together. Showing up for the weekend like this when Justin spent two weeks in Pittsburgh last month, was a good indication that something was going on. Suddenly the state of Justin’s cock seemed rather appropriate.Brian pushed himself up on his elbows and exhaled loudly. He didn’t want to do this. Despite his concern, Justin still lay boneless on the bed. Brian didn’t want to be the one to change that, didn’t want to bring the bastard back into Justin’s life. But he had to. Moving up on the bed, Brian kissed Justin then brushed his hair off his face.Justin caught his hand, fear creeping into his eyes. “You’re not sick again, are you?”“No, I’m not.” Brian smiled reassuringly. He knew the time had come. “But your. . . Craig is. He’s dying, and he wants to see you.”“Fuck,” Justin dropped Brian’s hand and covered his face.“So soon?” It was a sad attempt at humor.Justin lifted his hands long enough to smile at Brian, but he didn’t take the bait. “I should call my mother.”“Yeah,” Brian agreed, rolling onto his back to lie next to Justin. He looked at the clock and realized Jennifer would have gone to bed hours ago. “It’s late; this can wait until morning. Come here.”Justin moved easily into his arms, but neither of them spoke. They stayed together in a silent embrace until they finally fell asleep. It would be so easy to change his mind. Brian was waiting in the lounge. If Justin said he was leaving, Brian would follow him without hesitation. No one could blame him for walking away. But Justin had never done the easy thing.He knocked softly before entering the room. If he hadn’t been sure he was in the right place, if a nurse hadn’t personally escorted him to this door only a few minutes before, he would have thought he was in the wrong room. The man in the bed was pale, gaunt, clearly dying, and looked nothing like the father he remembered. “Dad?” he said quietly making it more of a question then he meant to.“Justin,” Craig opened his eyes and tried to smile “I’m glad you came. Sit down.”“Thanks.” Justin sat in the chair closer to the foot of the bed. His eyes were the only thing Justin recognized in his father, and that brought home how in all ways this man was a stranger. He had no idea what to say. It wasn’t like he could ask Craig how he was or what he’d been doing. The answers to both those questions were obvious.“Molly tells me you live in New York now.”“I moved there several years ago,” Justin was grateful for a safe topic. “Molly’s visited with Mom a few times. They both like to shop.”Craig laughed. “I told her she should major in shopping instead of whatever it is this week, political science I think?”Justin shrugged. He didn’t know much about Molly’s life, but their mother had complained about her lack of direction. “She’ll find her way.”“Like you did?” Craig asked, his eyes sharpening.“I think she’ll have an easier time of it.” Neither of them spoke for a minute, and when Justin shifted in his chair he knocked over the portfolio he’d forgotten he brought. “Mom said you wanted to see some of my work. These are just prints; the actual paintings are much larger.” He set the portfolio gently on the bed, being careful not to hurt Craig, but also not to touch him.As Craig paged slowly through the prints, Justin found himself talking about technique, brush strokes, and experiments with color and texture. He knew Craig didn’t understand most of what he was saying, but he wanted to fill the silence. There was so much about the paintings he couldn’t share with Craig. He couldn’t point to a painting and tell him how he painted it after the first time he had a nightmare in New York, and he realized how far away Brian was. He wouldn’t show Craig which one he’d given Ben and Michael for their fifth anniversary or explain how the painting that had been the center piece of his first solo show was the closest he’d ever come to being able to express what he felt hearing Brian say “ I love you” for the first time. So instead he reduced his work to a process.“These are very intense. I don’t know much about art, but I can picture these in a museum.” Craig handed the portfolio back to Justin.“Thanks,” Justin decided to take it as an overture, not a qualification.“Do they sell?”“Very well actually. I do some contract graphics work, but painting has been my primary income for the last year.”“That’s good. You’re being careful with your money, making investments?”Justin wanted to laugh. He shouldn’t be surprised it would come back to business and money. “I have an accountant. Ted, he’s a friend of ours, and he takes money very seriously. You’d approve.”“Your future is important to me. I’ve always wanted you to have what you needed to be successful.”“I know.”“I want you to be happy. That’s all I ever wanted.”“I am. I am happy.” Justin spread his hands out on his thighs and flexed his fingers. He looked at them and wished he was wearing his ring. He wished in that moment that he and Brian were already married, that he could point to his ring and somehow his father would understand. Maybe a wedding ring, a symbol Craig would recognize, could explain what Justin couldn’t. His dreams might not have been the ones Craig had for him, but that didn’t make them wrong. He had a career he loved, a family who supported him, and he had Brian. He had love, and sooner rather than later, he’d have a husband and a house in the country. He sighed, realizing ring or no ring, his father wouldn’t understand. Letting him know he was happy would have to be enough.He saw Craig’s hand tighten momentarily and realized he was dosing himself with a painkiller. He stood up. “You’re tired. I should go.”“Wait!” Craig sat up a bit and looked at Justin with an intensity that bordered on pleading. “There are things I need to say to you. Stay, please.”It was the “please” that did it. Justin nodded reluctantly, but he didn’t sit down.“The things I did; I know you don’t understand. Maybe someday you’ll have children, and you’ll know what it means to protect them. I wasn’t trying to hurt you, but it was the only way I knew to make you see, to keep you safe. I thought if I pushed hard enough, you would see what you had to do.”“It’s okay.” What else could he say? It would never be right, but what point was there in arguing now?“Justin, I meant what I said before. All I want is for you to be happy. I’m sorry if I had to hurt you to try and make sure you could be happy.”Craig reached out his hand, and Justin took it, surprised by the strength of Craig’s grip. “It’s okay,” he said again, at a loss for words. “I forgive you.”“Thank you,” Craig squeezed his hand. His eyes drifted shut, but he forced him open. “Want you to know. . . love you.”“I know, Dad,” Justin met Craig’s eyes. When he felt the hand holding his go slack, and Craig closed his eyes again, he pulled his own hand back. He stood there for a few more minutes looking at the man who had once been his father, who he would never see alive again, and wondered why he felt nothing.Brian was exactly where Justin had left him. He stood when Justin entered the lounge, studying him carefully and reaching a hand out to caress his cheek. “Are you okay?”Justin forced a smile, but didn’t lean into Brian’s hand. “I’m fine. Let’s go home.”He barely spoke during the ride to the loft, responding to Brian’s attempts at conversation with half-hearted acknowledgements. Justin caught himself drumming his fingers on his leg faster and faster as Brian drove. He was becoming increasingly impatient to be home, to be as far away from the hospital as possible.As soon as they got to the loft, he headed for the bathroom. He was stripped and in the shower before Brian had the alarm reset. He wanted the hospital smells of medicine and overcooked food off him now. Justin was vigorously scrubbing his chest when he heard Brian in come in behind him.Brian began washing his hair, tilting his face up so Justin was forced to look at him. “What did he say to you?”Justin shook his head. “It’s not him. I’m fine. I just hate the smell. Hospitals always smell like death and fear, and I want that gone.”“Okay, okay,” Brian ran his hand through Justin’s hair, rinsing the shampoo out.Justin knew Brian was trying to comfort him, but he didn’t want that. He dropped to his knees and began licking Brian’s cock. He ran his tongue along the head before taking it in. He sucked and licked until it was hard and pulsing in his mouth. Then he stood up and faced the wall. “Fuck me,” he demanded pushing his ass out toward Brian.Two fingers pushed roughly into his hole, and Justin flexed his knees and moved with them. He moaned, eager for more. Brian knew him, knew what he wanted. He stretched Justin just enough to keep from hurting him, then it was Brian’s cock filling him.“Harder,” Justin braced himself against the wall when Brian began moving faster. He lost himself in the burn and the pleasure, in the tightness of Brian’s grip as he jerked Justin off while fucking him. Two more thrusts, one more stroke of Brian’s hand, and Justin arched his back and came. He held himself up just long enough to feel Brian reach his own orgasm. Then he let go. The funeral was ten days later. Justin’s plane was delayed, and they missed calling hours. Brian had never been more grateful for the inefficiency of airlines. He hadn’t been to a funeral since Vic’s and had no desire to repeat the experience, but Justin asked him to come.He walked with Justin through the receiving line, smiling politely when he was introduced to Justin’s grandparents and aunt. Craig’s parents and sister lived out of state, and Justin hadn’t seen them since shortly after Molly was born. Brian knew Justin still received birthday and Christmas cards from his grandparents, but he never mentioned his aunt. Brian had no idea if they shared Craig’s views on Justin’s “disgusting lifestyle” or not. Their smiles may have faltered a bit when Justin introduced him as “my partner,” but they didn’t say anything, and Brian had no interest in creating a scene.Molly was the last person in line. Justin spent a few minutes talking to her, and Brian noticed he was holding her hand. He hoped for Justin’s sake that without Craig between them, they could find some common ground. Brian hugged her and told her he was sorry for her loss. It was the best he could do and still be honest. He didn’t mourn for Craig for even a second, but he emphasized with Molly. She was the only person who looked like she meant it when she thanked him for coming.They sat with Jennifer in the second row right behind Craig’s other ex-wife. He’d met, married, and divorced her in less than two years. Justin didn’t know her name. Brian tuned out the ceremony. It was of no interest to him, but Justin seemed equally unmoved and that concerned him. He noticed Jennifer tear up a few times and reach for Justin’s hand, and while he comforted her, his face remained impassive.The graveside service was thankfully brief and held in a small pavilion nowhere near the actual grave. Once the coffin was taken away, people gathered in small groups to mingle. Brian hung back, wanting to give Justin time with his family if he needed it. He watched Justin spend a few minutes with everyone, smiling and talking, but keeping his distance. Accepting hugs and handshakes when they were offered, but never reaching out. The only person he made a real effort to interact with was Molly.Before long Jennifer joined him. She hugged him and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for coming. He’s going to need you.”“He’s strong,” Brian shrugged.“He’s had to be, hasn’t he.”She sighed, and Brian put his arm around her. “Are you okay?”“It must seem strange to you, knowing my recent history with Craig. And I don’t know that I’ll ever forgive him for the things he did to Justin, but I loved him once. He was a good man then. Or at least I thought he was.”Justin’s arrival saved him from having to reply. He hugged his mother before reaching for Brian’s hand. “You ready?”Brian nodded and took Justin’s hand. He noticed that most people had left the pavilion and were headed to their cars. Only Craig’s immediate family remained.“There’s a lunch at the church hall,” Jennifer put her hand on Justin’s arm. “Are you two coming?”Brian raised an eyebrow at Justin; it was his call. But he can’t help being relieved when Justin shook his head.“”No, I already said my goodbyes. It’s time to go.”Jennifer hugged them both again, and then Justin led him to the door without stopping to talk to anyone else. Just like after the hospital, the ride back to the loft was mostly silent. But instead of frantic, Justin was subdued. Brian thought that might be worse.“Are you hungry?” Brian asked once they were back home.“No,” Justin walked past the kitchen. “Do you need to go to the office?”“I think they can muddle through for one day without me.” Brian moved behind Justin and walked toward the bedroom, propelling Justin along with him. As they neared the bed, he began unbuttoning Justin’s shirt.“You should take this off, get more comfortable.” He slipped it off carefully, almost but not quite brushing against Justin’s skin. He shook his head when Justin reached for him. Moving even closer, he unbuttoned his own shirt leaving the space he needed to work the buttons as the only distance between them.“Isn’t that better?” he whispered letting his breath warm Justin’s ear. He smirked when Justin swallowed hard and nodded. Desire was already darkening Justin’s eyes. Brian kept the same pattern while removing the rest of their clothes. He remained close enough that Justin could feel the heat from his body, but never touched his skin.Once they were both naked, Brian walked in a slow circle around Justin still keeping the smallest of distances between them. Justin’s eyes were closed, and his breath came in small pants. Brian took a step back, then ran his fingertips under Justin’s palm. Justin gasped at this first contact between them. Brian curled their fingers together and pulled Justin onto the bed with him.He pushed Justin onto his back and crawled on top of him, holding Justin hands above his head. Brian buried his face in Justin’s neck, nuzzling, licking, kissing, biting the soft skin there. He moved his mouth along his throat and collarbone tasting salt and the bitter flavor of Justin’s cologne.“God, Brian,” Justin wrapped his legs around Brian’s and bucked his hips.Brian let go of Justin’s hands and dragged his own down the length of Justin’s arms. He spread his fingers wide wanting to touch as much of Justin’s skin as he could. He tangled his fingers briefly in the hair at Justin’s armpits, and made sure to brush his nipples as he slid his hands over his chest. When he reached the small of Justin’s back, Brian brought his hands under Justin’s ass, kneading the firm flesh there. He pushed up and brought their cocks together. Justin shuddered and moaned.Justin wrapped a hand in Brian’s hair and pulled him up for a rough kiss. Brian smiled against Justin’s mouth before pulling back. He leaned down and bit Justin’s nipple. Hard.“Fuck!” Justin arched beneath him.“You want this?” Brian growled.“Yes,” it was barely more than an exhaled breath.“Good,” Brian smacked his hip. “Turn over.”Justin rolled onto his stomach, and Brian settled between his legs. He wasted no time pulling Justin’s hips up and spreading his cheeks so he could eat his ass. Brian pushed his tongue in immediately, wriggling as much as he could with Justin tense from the sudden invasion. He withdrew and licked the entire length of Justin’s crack before sucking hard at his hole. He licked and sucked until Justin’s hole was relaxed and wet enough from his saliva that he could push fingers in along with his tongue. Justin begged him for more, moving back every time Brian started to withdraw. His cock was hard despite neither of them touching it.“Brian, need to come NOW!” he demanded.“Not yet,” Brian squeezed the base of Justin’s cock, laughing a little when he yelped. He grabbed a condom and hastily put it on. After slicking himself up, he thrust hard into Justin’s ass, making sure to hit his prostrate on the first stroke.They both moaned, and Brian wanted nothing more than to pound into him, but he didn’t. Withdrawing almost completely, he began to thrust slowly keeping his strokes short and measured. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough and that’s exactly what Brian wanted. He ghosted his hand around Justin’s cock, teasing him constantly by dragging his fingers down the length of his cock or letting his balls rest in the palm of his hand. He’d circle Justin’s cock gently, holding it but not squeezing.Justin was begging almost constantly. Brian loved the sound of his voice as he pleaded for more or yelled at Brian to fuck him harder. He randomly thrust deeper making Justin shout in surprise and satisfaction when he hit his prostrate. Then he pulled back and started again. Brian kept it up as long as he could. Finally they were both sweating and he could feel Justin’s leg’s shaking beneath him. His own balls ached with the need to come, and he decided it was time. Brian began jerking Justin off as he thrust as hard and deep as he could. He felt Justin’s whole body shudder as he began to come, and then his own orgasm hit, leaving him blind to anything but his own pleasure.Stretching his legs out, Justin collapsed on the bed. Brian rested against him, trying to catch his breath. “Love you,” he whispered in the space between Justin’s shoulder blades.Justin reached a hand back and awkwardly stroked the skin along Brian’s side. “I know. Thank you.” Brian was already dressed for work when Justin woke up. “Hey,” he called from the bed, wanting to catch him before he left.“I thought you might sleep all day,” Brian shrugged his jacket on and he walked back up the steps to the bedroom. He smiled and leaned down to kiss Justin.He tasted like coffee, and Justin lazy licked the inside of his mouth as they kissed. “You wore me out,” he said stretching.“My pleasure,” Brian licked his lips. “So what are your plans for the day?”“Mom wants to have lunch, and my plane leaves in the early afternoon so I’ll just take a cab from the restaurant.”“Okay,” Brian dragged the word out slightly.Justin saw the hurt and confusion in his eyes, but Brian didn’t ask any questions. They hadn’t talked about when he was going back, and normally Justin would have stayed as long as possible. But right now, he just wanted to get away from Pittsburgh as quickly as he could. “I have a deadline coming up in a few days so I need to get back.”Brian nodded, “Painting or graphics?”“Graphics,” Justin wrinkled his nose. “Nothing too difficult, but time consuming.” Nothing Justin couldn’t do from Pittsburgh, and Brian knew that. Justin hoped he wouldn’t call him on it.“Call me when you plane lands.” Brian kissed him one more time then left without waiting for a response.Lunch with his mother was as awkward as Justin expected it to be. He knew what she wanted, but he played along with her attempts to pretend she didn’t have an agenda. She waited until their plates were cleared to bring up Craig.“Justin, we haven’t really had a chance to talk about your father. How are you?”“I’m fine,” he smiled to reassure her.“I can’t have been easy to see him after all those years under these circumstances.”“What other circumstances would I have seen him under?” Justin tried not to sound bitter, but it wasn’t like Craig had tried for a reconciliation or anything. He’d just wanted another chance to plead his case, to make Justin see he’d been right.“Honey, I know there had to be a part of you that hoped someday Craig would accept you. I thought maybe at the end?” Jennifer looked hopeful.Justin shook his head. “He wanted understanding, maybe forgiveness. I gave it to him. He got what he needed from me.”“What about you? Did you get what you needed?”“When has that ever mattered to Dad?”“It matters to me,” Jennifer reached for his hand.Justin forced a smile. “I got what I expected.”Her face fell. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry.”“It’s okay Mom, really.” Justin stood and walked around the table to hug her. “I have to go, but I’ll call you soon. Tell Molly she can call me if she wants to talk or something.” A few nights after the funeral, Michael showed up at the loft with pizza, ribs, chili dogs, and fries. He also had, if Brian’s nose wasn’t deceiving him, some really strong pot. “Is Justin here?” he asked, looking past Brian.“No, he went back to New York.”“Oh,” Michael walked in and set the food on the counter. “I just thought,” he said gesturing to the pile.“You know,” Brian began, rubbing a hand over his face. “Most people bring the grieving family casseroles and baked goods not marijuana and toxic take out.”Michael shrugged and smiled. “It’s always worked for us.”Brian smiled back. “True and it is a sin to waste food.”An hour later they were both stuffed and more than a little buzzed. “Mikey, you truly are your mother’s son, but at least you don’t make me eat tuna.”“I think I should be offended, but I’m not sure why.” They both cracked up laughing. “I didn’t come just to see Justin. Are you okay?”“Other than having raised my cholesterol ten points tonight, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”“I just thought this might have been hard on you too.”Brian snatched what was left of the joint from Michael’s hand. He took one last deep drag before stubbing it out. “No more pot for you. Mikey, even you could not have become so family friendly as to believe I give a shit that Craig’s dead. Frankly, it’s a relief. The one hard part of this whole thing was not standing up at his funeral and telling everyone what a sanctimonious, no good bastard he was.”“That would have gone over well,” Michael rolled his eyes. “I meant because of your own dad.”“What’s Jack got to do with anything?” Brian looked at Michael as if he’d lost his mind.“You had a hard time when he died, and well, this is a pretty similar thing.”“Michael, Michael, Michael, did you come to save me from tortured memories of my father? For once, this is not about me. Jack and Craig were nothing alike.”“They both treated you like shit, and then made a half-assed attempt at being nice before they died. Doesn’t sound so different to me.” Michael crossed his arms and tried to glare. Brian thought he looked more like he was crossing his eyes.Obviously Michael wasn’t going to let this go. “I need a drink. Come on.” He motioned for Michael to follow him to the living room. Brian poured large glasses of whatever was in the first bottle he found, setting both the bottle and the glasses on the coffee table with a thud.“Shoes,” he demanded when Michael collapsed onto the couch. He tossed his drink back while Michael took off his shoes, socks, and for reasons known only to him, his shirt as well.“So where were we?” Brian asked as he settled into his favorite chair.“Your dad,” Michael supplied helpfully.“That’s right. Jack who is not Craig who is not Jack. Exactly,” Brian nodded. “Justin didn’t get it either. When he first left home he missed his father, thought someday Craig could accept him and they’d be one big happy family again.” Brian snorted. “He couldn’t understand why I didn’t want anything to do with Jack, why I wished he’d fucking disown me.”“He always hurt you,” Michael said sadly.“What you seem to have forgotten, is unlike Craig, Jack hated me long before he knew I was gay. That was just the icing on the fucking cake. Jack hated me for breathing, for tying him to my bitch of a mother. Then he hated me for being everything he wasn’t-young, rich, handsome, and most importantly, free. I could have married Lindsay, and Gus could have really been our son, and he still would have hated me. He wanted me to be as miserable as he was, and then he would have hated me for being a failure. It was always lose-lose with him.Christ, I need another drink.” Brian sighed loudly and refilled their glasses. “It was different for Justin. Craig made very clear exactly why he hated Justin, and what Justin could do to change that. Be a straight businessman, and everything’s cool. Fuck that. Fuck Craig, fuck Jack, fuck all of them.” Brian and Michael both raised their drinks, then downed them quickly.They sat in silence for a while. Brian poured them fresh drinks, but they only sipped them. Brian was studying the way the light reflected off his glass when something occurred to him. “I’m glad Gus is in Canada,” he said abruptly.“Huh?”“Lindsay was right to take him away.”“She didn’t, I mean that’s not why they went,” Michael sat back up.“Oh, I know that wasn’t the reason, but it was still a good idea. It’s a lot harder for me to fuck up his life from another country.” Gus was safe, he thought, not just from a homophobic government, but from his own screwed up idea of parenting.“You’re not going to fuck up his life,” Michael sounded indignant.“Not now, I’m not. But if they stayed here, things would be different. It’s not like I’ve seen any shining examples of fatherhood.”“Look, just because your dad and Justin’s dad-”Brian interrupted him, “And Emmett’s and Ted’s and Lindsay’s and Ben’s?” Brian raised a questioning eyebrow. He’d never heard Ben mention his family, but he wasn’t surprised when Michael nodded reluctantly.“That doesn’t mean anything. And we’re all gay.”“Oh that’s encouraging. If who you fuck is the problem, Gus is screwed. He has, what, a ten to fifteen percent chance of being gay and an almost ninety percent chance of being straight. He’ll be the first kid to have his father fuck up his life because he’s straight.” Brian laughed.“You’re missing my point,” Michael waved his finger at Brian in what would have been an eerie imitation of Debbie if he hadn’t been aiming over Brian’s head. “Ben and I are doing good with Hunter and JR.”“As much as I admire you and the professor’s bond with your foundling, considering his background anything short of, oh I don’t know, murdering him in his sleep would be considered a triumph.”“You love Gus. You’re a good dad,” Michael insisted.“Mikey,” Brian shook his head. Michael had been raised in a loving home, insane, but loving none the less. He didn’t get it. “It’s not about love or wanting to be a good dad. Odds are I’ll find some way to make Gus wish Melanie’s balls were fully functional. Distance will just lessen the impact.”Michael’s only response was a loud snore. Brian laughed and forced himself up. He shifted Michael so he was stretched out on the couch and covered him with a blanket. As he went around the loft shutting off lights, he thought about calling Justin. But he realized it was late, and he didn’t know what he might say as trashed as he was so he went to bed instead. Brian passed out more than slept that night, but the following night he dreamt of his father. In his dream, he went about his day like he always did, but Jack was in the background laughing at him. The next night he dreamt he went to New York, but Justin’s apartment was empty and he wouldn’t answer his phone. Brian walked around the city trying to find him, but every time he turned a corner Jack or Craig was there. He’d asked them where Justin was, becoming more and more frantic, but they just laughed and walked away. It took Brian hours to shake that dream, but Jack wasn’t done with him yet.His father was dressed like a lumberjack and holding Gus at the age he’d been the one and only time Jack had seen him. Brian knew if he didn’t get Gus away from Jack he’d never see him again. But every time he took a step toward them, Jack took one back, shaking his head and laughing. It wasn’t as if the dream was hard to figure out, but it took several more nights of his dead, but not dearly departed, father haunting his dreams for him to call Lindsay.“So I thought I’d come up for a weekend some time soon, spend a little time with Gus.” Brian tried not to sound too eager.“That would be great,” Lindsay said warmly. “I’ll check the schedule and email you some dates, if that’s okay?”“Fine.”“Will Justin be coming with you?”“I don’t know.” As soon as Brian said it he knew it was a mistake.“How is he?”“He says he’s fine.” Again, Brian revealed more than he meant to. Talking to Lindsay did that to him.“Brian,” her voice held a warning.“Don’t start Linds, just don’t.”“Look, I know this has been hard on you, too, but-”“Fuck,” Brian cut her off. “You’re as bad as Michael, thinking Craig kicking the bucket has set off my own daddy issues. But you’re both wrong. Like I told him, this is not about me.” He wished they’d give him a little credit.“Then why don’t you know if he’s fine? Why don’t you know if he wants to visit Gus with you? Why aren’t you with him?” Lindsay sounded more confused than accusing which is the only reason he didn’t hang up on her.“Justin’s a big boy. He can take care of himself, and he’s a lot stronger than people give him credit for.”“You’re right, Brian. Justin can take care of himself; he’s been doing it for a long time. But normally you’re right there with him, making sure he doesn’t have to do it alone. Don’t you think he depends on your presence, your strength, even if he doesn’t need it?”“Lindsay, just let it go.” Brian didn’t fully understand his own reluctance to push things with Justin, but he knew he didn’t want to analyze it with Lindsay.“Fine, but let me say one thing. I’m sure you have your reasons for staying away from Justin-”“I’m not staying away from him,” Brian interrupted, starting to get a little angry. “We do live in different cities, something I’m sure you remember.”“You know what I mean.” Lindsay was using her “mother” voice. Brian knew better than to argue. “You may think this is what Justin wants or that he’s handling everything just fine. But you know better than anyone, no matter how bad his relationship with Craig was, he’s going to struggle with his death. Given your history with Craig, he may be unsure of your reaction to his grief. Don’t make him ask, Brian. Be there for him.”“Are you done?”“Yes, I am. I’ll send you those dates in the morning, and I look forward to seeing both of you soon.”“Goodbye,” Brian said pointedly, hanging up before she could say anything else.Brian should have known calling Lindsay would be a mistake. She knew him too well, and she had a way of making him think about things he’d rather ignore. Despite his denials, he knew from experience that Justin was probably rethinking his entire relationship with Craig, wondering how it could have been different. His conversation with Lindsay made him realize it was his own role in Justin’s split with his father that he hoped Justin wasn’t examining too closely. Giving Justin the time and space to work through this on his own was a convenient way to avoid hearing about any regrets Justin might have. Brian was a fucking coward, but it wasn’t like that came as a surprise. It was late when his phone rang. Brian smiled in relief when he saw it was Justin. They hadn’t talked in a few days, and with Lindsay’s words still fresh in his mind, he was starting to worry. “Hey,” he greeted Justin softly.“I haven’t painted anything in three weeks,” Justin said flatly. “I haven’t even tried.”“Fuck,” Brian was up and pacing. It only took a second to do the math, not since he saw Craig in the hospital.“That’s kind of my thought, too.”“He’s not worth it. Justin, you know that.”“That doesn’t change anything, does it?”“Justin,” Brian said, hearing the desperation in his own voice.“Why aren’t you here?” Justin asked quietly.“I can be,” Brian was already looking for his pants, shoes.“No, don’t. I’m just being melodramatic.” Justin laughed. “I think I need to get very drunk, and then we can both forget I called. I’m sorry, Brian.”“Are you sure?”“I told you I’m overreacting. You know how I get when painting isn’t going well. It’s not a big deal.”Justin sounded fine, almost too fine. Brian knew the difference between not being happy with his painting and not painting at all. But he didn’t want to get into it over the phone. “I love you,” he said because it was all he had to offer right then.“You too,” Justin sounded tired. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”Brian was on the road in less than ten minutes. Even at night the drive took too long, but it was the quickest way to get to Justin. He turned his radio up louder than normal and tried to lose himself in the music. He didn’t want to think, didn’t want to waste hours worrying about something he couldn’t fix. Brian reminded himself again and again of what a drama queen Justin could be. It was a cold comfort.It was still dark when Brian finally made it to Justin’s apartment. The sun wouldn’t be up for a few hours yet. But when he let himself in, he found Justin sitting on the couch, staring out the window. Brian came up behind him and rested his hands on Justin’s shoulders. “You’re not drunk.”Justin shook his head. “I wasn’t sure if you’d end up coming or not, so I waited.”“You could have asked.”“I wasn’t sure if I wanted you to come or not.” Justin tilted his head back so he could see Brian. “Besides, you’ve been avoiding me.”“I’m not the one who left. If you wanted to see me you could have stayed instead of taking off,” Brian bit his lip and stopped.“That wasn’t about you, and you know it. I couldn’t stay, not then.”“And now?”“And now I’m wondering when you are going to stop thinking one day I’m going to regret this, regret you.”Justin had always been too smart. “I don’t know,” he said honestly, dropping a kiss on the top of Justin’s head to soften his answer. “Am I that transparent?”“To me you are,” Justin laughed and reached his hand up. Brian took it and walked around the end of the couch to sit next to him. Justin turned to face him, his expression a mixture of frustration and amusement. “Did you think when Craig died, I would start to think if I hadn’t met you, been with you, stalked you, loved you, my father and I would somehow have been okay?Brian didn’t say anything; he didn’t have to. Justin shook his head again.“Brian, you weren’t waiting outside St. James trolling for twinks. I went to Liberty Avenue all on my own. I was ready, and it was all going to fall apart with or without you. If I hadn’t met you, maybe it would have taken longer or maybe I would have gotten into something I couldn’t handle and ended up a tweaked out mess.” Justin shrugged.“Instead you met me.” Brian tried to sound casual, but he knew what could have happened to Justin. He’d always known. Those were the scenarios he fought against that first year when he wanted nothing more than to get Justin out of his life. But he’d never been able to do it, never been able to take the chance.“Instead I met you,” Justin smiled for the first time. “And I became the best homosexual I could be. I don’t regret that, and I never will.”“So why aren’t you painting?” Justin had said everything he needed to, and Brian had heard him. He had more pressing concerns now.“I feel like I don’t have anything to paint.” The hand Brian was holding twitched restlessly so Brian stroked it with his thumb. “I went to see him because I felt like I had to, but part of me was hoping we’d be able to, I don’t’ know, fix things before he died. But the man in that hospital room, Brian, he wasn’t my father.”Justin looked away, but Brian didn’t push him to continue. He waited, idly running his free hand over Justin’s thigh.“He wasn’t the father I remembered from before. The one I was sure loved me and was proud of me so I couldn’t say goodbye to him. And he wasn’t the bastard who rejected me, who had me arrested, who never came to see me when I was in the hospital because at heart he believed I deserved what happened to me. He was just a stranger who was dying and wanted me to tell him everything he did was okay. What else was I supposed to do?”“You did what you had to do,” Brian said it with conviction. He wished he’d forced Justin to tell him about this sooner, that he hadn’t let it build.“When I left, I felt empty. It was like everything I’d ever felt for him was gone. But it wasn’t. It’s all still there, the anger, the hurt, the need for him to see that I’m fine the way I am, that I’m not less. He’s gone now, so what the fuck am I supposed to do with all that?” Justin’s eyes were bright with anger.“You could say those things to me, or we could go to his grave,” Brian said with obvious distaste. He hated psychobabble, but for Justin he’d be willing to try. He rubbed his forehead, trying to think of something that would help. “Can’t you write him a letter and then burn it, or some shit like that?”Justin looked at him for a minute then started laughing. He laughed so hard tears ran down his face, and he could barely breathe. He pulled his hand from Brian’s and wrapped his arms around his stomach. Justin laughed so long that Brian started laughing with him.“Oh God, Brian that’s so wrong. I love you for offering, but no. I think we should stick with what we know best, drugs and sex.”Justin leaned against him, and Brian could feel the lessening of tension in his body. But something was still bothering Brian; he knew something wasn’t quite right. “Why did you call tonight?”“I got this in the mail yesterday,” Justin leaned over Brian to reach the end table. He handed Brian a single piece of paper.Brian skimmed it quickly. It was a letter from Craig’s attorney outlining the steps needed to execute Craig’s will, and estimating the amount of money Justin could expect to receive from his share of the estate. Brian’s eyebrows rose when he saw the figure. “This is a lot of money,” he said neutrally.“I don’t want it,” Justin said flatly.His first instinct was to argue. Justin could do a lot with this kind of money, or he could blow on something extravagant at Craig’s expense. But he thought about everything Justin had just told him; he thought about Justin not painting, and all he said was, “Okay.”“I talked to Molly, and she agreed to let me sign over my half of the house and car, but she won’t take the money. She said Dad told her after he found out he was dying, he changed his will to give me half of everything. She said he wanted me to have it,” Justin looked uncomfortable.“What do you think?” That was all Brian cared about.“Maybe he did want me to have it, but it was for the wrong reasons. If I take it then I’m accepting more from him than just money. It would be like letting him into my life, and I can’t do that. I don’t want it,” he repeated.“What do you want to do?”“I was thinking,” Justin said the glint back in his eyes. “I want to give it to PFLAG and the Matthew Sheppard Foundation. He would hate that, but I want it to do some good, help kids who aren’t as lucky as me.”It still surprised Brian that after everything Justin had gone through, he thought of himself as lucky. “There is a certain poetic justice in that,” Brian smirked. “Debbie will be thrilled.”“I thought so.”Brian smothered a yawn, and Justin stood up. “Why don’t you get some sleep,” he suggested pointing to the bed he kept in what was supposed to be the dining room. The small bedroom had the best light so he used it for a studio.“Join me?” Brian asked as he stood and stretched. Sleep sounded good.“No, I think. . .” Justin hesitated. “I think I want to work for a little bit.”He pointed to his studio not the computer so Brian knew he meant he wanted to paint. “Are you sure?” he asked, trying to disguise his relief.“Yeah,” Justin smiled. “I’ll probably end up trashing anything I do now, but I want to try.”“What are you going to paint?” Justin always described his painting in terms of the feeling or theme he wanted to convey. Brian was impressed with the number of ways he found to paint desire.“Irony,” he said looking at the letter they’d left on the couch. “Or maybe triumph.” He leaned up and kissed Brian.Brian held him close and deepened the kiss, letting his hands linger in Justin’s hair even as he pulled away. “Don’t clean up too much when you’re done. I want to fuck you while you still smell like paint.”“Promise?” Justin stepped back reluctantly and headed toward his studio.“Promise,” Brian echoed, making his way to the bed. He’d sleep for a few hours, and if Justin was still painting, like Brian expected, when he woke up, he’d join him in the studio. He wanted to watch Justin paint, wanted to watch him lose himself in something other than grief and doubt. He knew one painting couldn’t fix everything, but it was a start.
10032953	Altissia	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Gladiolus Amicitia, Ignis Scientia", "Fandom": "Final Fantasy XV", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by AtropaAzraelle (Polyoxyethylene)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-01T00:00:00", "words": "2,947", "Additional Tags": "Angst, Injury, it's about that time", "Relationship": "Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Of Walls and Nerds", "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 wasn't like waking up, and it wasn't an overwhelming pain that woke him. It was just pain, present, like the ache of tired limbs the morning after a hard won battle, the sting of magically knitted flesh, too raw and too fresh for the body to have ceased issuing warnings against further damage, that swam through the darkness of unconsciousness with him as he slowly drifted towards waking once more.Ignis awoke, for lack of a better word, to a body that ached like he'd taken a beating as well as delivered one, and a face that burned and throbbed uncomfortably. He groaned unhappily, trying to sit up. It was dark, and he couldn't open his eyes; something was over them, holding them closed, and he lifted a hand that moved slowly through the fog of rising consciousness to find out what it was.Another hand grabbed his, “Hey,” said the voice. Gladio's deep, low thrum meant safety, and Ignis relaxed, letting Gladio take his hand and squeeze gently. “Morning.”Ignis inhaled deeply, feeling Gladio's weight shift the mattress as he settled onto it. He'd sat on the bed he realised, which was odd, because Gladio never rose before he did. Then again, Ignis was injured. He remembered that. He remembered fighting, evacuating, Leviathan rising out of the waters, the horror and fear of knowing Noct would be facing the wrathful goddess alone. The empire had arrived, complicating matters.He'd got hurt, he knew. The last thing he remembered was Ardyn's ship, heading off away from them.“Is it?” He asked, drily. He raised his other hand and touched the right side of his face, the lip, where it had been split and the gash still ached, and then up. His fingertips met something soft, but not cloth. Bandages. He'd expected little better; he could feel where the pain was. “I can't actually tell.”There was a silence that felt burdened and pregnant for a moment, and then Gladio replied, “Unconscious to sarcastic in three seconds, at least we know there's no brain damage.” There was a tone to his voice that Ignis couldn't quite discern, unable to decipher whether it was happy, or sad, or relieved. The mixed emotions of the morning after a fight that had been won, but barely, perhaps? Or had it not been won?“Gladio?” He asked, concern creeping into Ignis's tone. “How's Noct?”“Sleeping off the fight, still,” Gladio answered, with a confidence that Ignis knew meant it was truth, and that Noctis was fine, if exhausted. “He might be a while yet. He really put on a show.”Ignis relaxed, visibly and audibly, his shoulders settling at the news. “What of Prompto,” he pressed, “and you?”“We're fine,” Gladio said, a shade too quickly. “Prompto and I are fine. Prompto's watching over Noct.”There was, without question, something wrong. Gladio's hand squeezed his, and Ignis frowned. He could hear Gladio, ahead of him, and to the left, he could feel where the mattress of the bed dipped, feel the pinch and pull in the sheets over his thighs where Gladio was sat atop them. He wished he could see, but the pain at the left of his face told him that removing the bandages wasn't an option as yet, and his right eye felt bruised. “Gladio?” He asked, the name alone being question enough.The silence drew on past the point of comfort, and Gladio squeezed his hand again. “You're hurt,” he said, quietly, “and Lady Lunafreya,” his voice trailed off, and Ignis felt dread tighten in his chest, “is gone.” Ignis inhaled again, slowly, taking in the words.Gone. That word had a weight of meaning that settled into the pit of Ignis's stomach. He tilted his head back, and exhaled slowly, steadily. This was time to think, not react emotionally, no matter how much his heart leapt out to Noct, who had already lost so many. To now lose Lady Luna, his reason for pressing on, would be devastating.“The ring?” He asked, hoping beyond hope that it had been recovered. They had fought so hard, and lost so much, they could not lose the ring too, on top of the Oracle, on top of Lucis.“Noct has it,” Gladio answered, his voice quiet, his tone distant. “It was clutched in his right hand when we found him,” he continued, and there was a pause and the sound of Gladio swallowing, “he won't let it go.”Relief settled over the dread. They had, then, achieved one goal, at great cost. Obtaining the ring, in exchange for the Oracle's life, in exchange for Lady Luna's life made it a trinket that had not come cheaply, but still, tolls had been exacted, however devastating they were. Noct had the ring. They were, for better or worse, on track.“Did Noct win the Hydraeon's favour?” The last thing they required from Altissia, and then they would take their time to recover from their wounds and their losses, and then move on to reclaim the crystal.“We don't know,” Gladio replied, his voice growing ever quieter, and so unlike himself. “Ignis,” he began. Ignis noted that Gladio eschewed the diminutive he normally used for him. “You're hurt,” he said, haltingly.“I can feel my own injuries, Gladio, I'm not unaware,” he replied, a shade sharper than he wished. He softened the words with a squeeze of his fingers, and Gladio squeezed back, and then didn't let go.“No,” Gladio said, and his voice trembled in a way that worried Ignis, “you need to listen a minute.”Ignis couldn't tell if Gladio was scared, or upset. His injuries couldn't be that severe, surely? He could feel the ache in his limbs to know he had all of those, his chest and back were bruised, his head throbbed dully, and his face all but burned under the bandages. He was whole, at least. “I'm listening,” he reassured, his own voice quieter in response to Gladio's clear discomfort.“You,” Gladio began, and a hand pressed against the side of Ignis's throat, startling him briefly. He jumped, and then stilled, because the fingers were familiar, and they curled at the back of his neck, a thumb stroking gently at his jaw. No further words came, but he heard Gladio take a shaky breath.Ignis rested his other hand over Gladio's wrist, fear creeping up his spine at the pause, and the sound of Gladio struggling with himself to maintain his composure, to say what he needed to.There was a sniff, and then a huff, and then Gladio's voice, oddly thick, came again. “You took a bad hit,” he said. “The quacks here,” Gladio inhaled again, and it was all Ignis could focus on, the shaky inhale, exhale of Gladio fighting to keep it together while he explained, “patched you up best they could.”“What is it?” Ignis asked, moving his toes just to be sure he still could.“They called it a globular rupture,” Gladio said, hesitating at the unfamiliar words. “Your eyeball popped,” he said, unnecessarily. Clearly someone had explained it to him in the more brutalistic terms at some point hence, Ignis found himself thinking. “They didn't have to remove it, but,” Gladio hesitated, and then said, in a rush, “you'll never see out of it again.”Ignis took that in, slowly, twisting and turning the words over in his mind. “Both?” He asked, in a whisper.He listened to Gladio inhale, and then exhale. “Just the left, but,” he trailed off, and Ignis found his breath caught horribly on that 'but', waiting for the rest, for his life to crash down around them both. “They don't know about the other eye, yet. They said, with the hit you took, that eye might be damaged too. They're going to look at you again later today.”Ignis frowned, bowing his head, and finding that the burn and ache in his face felt more present now. Had he really been that badly injured? He couldn't recall seeing an incoming blow he couldn't avoid, but then, after Ardyn's ship departing, everything slipped through the fingers of his memory, like a dream you'd woken from, there, and yet not. “Then don't mourn for me yet,” he said, quietly. He ran his fingers up along Gladio's arm, and to his shoulder, fingers trailing over smooth, warm skin, and catching the vest he'd been wearing yesterday. Perhaps Gladio hadn't changed his clothes. Perhaps he hadn't had the chance.He trailed his fingers along until he found the curve leading up to Gladio's neck, and then he followed that until he met the familiar scruff of unclipped wiry hair that was long enough to class as a beard, and yet too untidy that Ignis didn't still think of it as advanced stubble. There was wetness he realised, and the thought made his throat catch. Gladio had shed tears, perhaps still was shedding them. He hadn't been able to tell he was crying, Ignis thought, distantly. He'd seen Gladio cry before, once for Insomnia, in the dead of night after seeing smoke pouring from their lost home, once more with relief, when Iris had finally made contact, albeit with Noctis, and then once again, some time later, when a tearful Iris had shared with them the further loss their family had suffered. Gladio had clung to him those nights, once the tears had been replaced with an unhappy, exhausted sleep, and Ignis hadn't slept at all, held too tightly in Gladio's arms and unwilling to pull away for the sake of his own comfort.When he'd wished, on those nights, never to have to see Gladio cry again, this wasn't how he'd intended that wish to be granted.“I thought I'd lost you,” Gladio murmured, turning his head so that his lips brushed against Ignis's palm, and Gladio's fingers curled at the back of Ignis's neck, getting lost in fine hairs and rubbing against Ignis's scalp in a way that was pleasant, in contrast to the aches he felt everywhere else.Gladio had lost so much, Ignis knew. His home, his father, and any chance at reconciliation, Jared, whom Gladio had known since he was little, who had been there through all of Gladio's life. For a while he'd feared he'd lost Iris, and the loss of Jared had only brought to the fore how close he'd come to losing her the second time. She was safe now, sequestered away in Caem, with the Marshal and remaining Crownsguard to protect her, but she, and Noctis, and Ignis, and Prompto were all Gladio had left.“It will take much more than the Empire to wrest me from you,” Ignis said, his voice firm, his tone matter-of-fact. Gladio's face shifted under his hand, so scruffy bristles scraped against his fingers once more and Ignis felt the weight of Gladio's cheek pressing there. He could feel the way Gladio's skin moved as he screwed his eyes shut, the wetness where tears had dripped, and he rubbed at that wetness with his thumb, brushing the tears away, wishing he could brush the need for them away with it.He was blind, then, potentially. A further visit from the doctors would confirm any damage to his vision in his right eye, but the left was done for. Ignis had never had much cause to read on the subject of burst eyeballs, so he had little choice but to accept the prognosis for that one, and now he must wait on the other. He'd never in his life been without a plan, without a schedule. Since he was very small his tasks had been laid out for him, one after the other, and his first task had always been to tend to the Prince.Now he had nought to do but wait, and it felt like he was flapping loose in a dark and unfamiliar world. He'd once navigated the Citadel with his nose stuck in a book so adeptly he'd never needed to look up short of other people crossing his path, but he realised he had no idea of the layout of this room, of even where this room was. Was he in a hospital? A hotel? What in Altissia had survived, and what had not? He no more knew where this room lay in relation to the building, to the port, than he knew where this bed lay in relation to the door to his room, to a window.It was like being utterly, and helplessly lost, and the fear that had crept into his spine and enrobed its fingers around his heart returned, insidious and cold.He'd never known a life without his vision, and now the loss of that put so much else on the line. What would he do if he couldn't read? Without one eye, he couldn't safely drive. What if he couldn't see sufficiently well to fight, and he began to become an impediment on the others? Would his presence threaten Noct's safety? What of Gladio's?He swallowed that sense of fear. Emotions wouldn't help right now. Clear thought was needed to get through this, and emotions would hinder that. They had a plan, one way or another, and if Noct had received the Hydraeon's favour then the plan remained unchanged whatever condition Ignis himself may be in. Press on, move forward, it was the only hope they had. The world, with its darkening days and lengthening nights, could not afford them to surrender now. They had seen daemons in Altissia, lurking in the alleys; they'd hunted them for rewards, but none but Ignis had considered the implications. Daemons in Altissia, daemons in the midst of lights and people, lurking out of the way, true, but still here, where they had no business being.The world was becoming so much more dangerous than even it knew. If the waning light was no longer safe, then the darkness was now a constant threat. They could ill afford to halt, Ignis could ill afford to grow emotional and mourn his losses. There were stories that the crystal fended off the daemons, protected the light, but with it buried in the empire, in Gralea no doubt, that protection was insufficient. They needed to recover it, or Ignis's own eyes would be but one of many, much larger sacrifices made in the world.“That better be a promise,” Gladio's voice broke through the curtain of Ignis's thoughts. Ignis could still hear the crack in his voice, and it wrenched at his heart to hear him so upset.Perhaps the world owed them a little of its time, still. Noct was yet to awaken, and would need time once he had to process what had happened, to learn of Lady Luna's passing, to mourn for her as he had never really had chance to mourn his father. Ignis too would need time to think. Gladio would need time to recover. The world had little enough time to give them, true, but they needed a little more or they would be unable to continue on their march, this fight.Ignis leaned forward slightly, tucking his fingers around the back of Gladio's neck and urged him forward, moving to take the man into his arms. Gladio's weight was warm, and familiar, and safe, and for all Ignis floated untethered in a bed that could have as readily been in Gralea as Altissia as Insomnia for all he knew of its location, Gladio's weight and heat meant safety here. He wasn't untethered in a dark and unfamiliar world, so long as there was Gladio's voice, and Gladio's touch, and Gladio's warmth nearby. “You got to me, didn't you?” He asked, softly, as Gladio's weight settled around his chest and shoulders, and Ignis felt his arms tightening. He curled his own tightly around Gladio's back and held him with a fervour he wouldn't wish to admit. Gladio did not, right now, need to know of the roiling fear and uncertainty in Ignis's own head. He had enough of his own to contend with. “I'm alive, as promised.”He could hear Gladio swallow, hear the gulp, and the shake in his breath. “If I'd been faster,” Gladio began, the words whispered behind Ignis's ear, into his hair.“Do not do that,” Ignis told him, firmly. That was an unhelpful train of thought regardless of their situation. “You did what you could, I would ask no more. I am sworn Crownsguard, just like you, not some inexperienced and unequipped civilian. My injuries are not your failing.”There was a moment, while Gladio swallowed, and gave a faint nod against Ignis's shoulder. He squeezed Ignis gently in his grip, tight enough that Ignis felt the press of bruises at his back, and chest, but gently enough that he didn't desire to pull away. “They're not yours either,” Gladio replied.Ignis smiled, faintly, at that, and ran his hand up Gladio's back and into his hair, tucking his face in against Gladio's shoulder. Gladio was searching for someone to blame, he realised, and perhaps he thought Ignis was too. “I know,” he replied, gently. “We saved many, many people that would have been lost, and Noct has the ring. We succeeded in what we set out to do. I don't consider that failure.”“You,” Gladio said, his voice cracking, “and Lunafreya, are a hell of a price for success.”“I'm not lost,” Ignis answered, softly, surely, “merely hindered. I'll recover. Give me time, and I'll recover.”Gladio tucked his face in against Ignis's neck, fingers curling into the clothes at his back. “Take all the time you need,” he said, thickly.
10059956	That Cliche Plot Again	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "James Caddick, Wallid Kanaan, Ian MacLeod", "Fandom": "Asagao Academy: Normal Boots Club", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by orphan_account", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-03T00:00:00", "words": "1,038", "Additional Tags": "Caddy and Wallid do the stupid, Claustrophobia, This is cliche and everyone in the story knows it, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hidden Block is supremely unhelpful", "Relationship": "James Caddick/Wallid Kanaan", "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 }	It had been a great plan. Would have been really funny, too. Just get Moosey to walk into the storage closet, and glitter would get all over him. It would have been great, everyone would have laughed. He’d even convinced Wallid to help him out, and they’d snuck into their club room during lunch to set it up. But no, he just had to trip on the way into the closet while Wallid was setting the glitter up. And the door just had to close behind him, didn’t it? And it just happened to be a door that locked on the inside? Seriously, when was the school built, wasn’t that a safety violation? As he paced back and forth, Wallid sat down and watched him before finally sighing and interrupting his panicked train of thought. “Caddy, chill. We’re not stuck in here.” “The door’s locked!”, Caddy exclaimed, rattling the unmoving doorknob for dramatic effect. “We are!” Wallid’s only response was to hold up his cellphone. A sigh of relief left his mouth. “Oh thank god. You can just tell someone to come get us!” Wallid opened up the group chat and added a quick explanation of what had happened, omitting the prank part, before asking them to come help them. It took too long for anyone to respond. But, after a few anxious minutes, Jimmy responded with a wave of laughter emoticons. “r you kidding me?”, he wrote. “we’re in class dumbasses” Luke chimed in with much the same thing. “Class already started gonna have to sneak out to save you guys but it might take a while” He could almost hear sarcasm oozing from Ian’s comment. “wow real smooth james.” Caddy took the phone from Wallid and angrily typed a reply. “Just go to the bathroom and walk by here on your way, Moosey!!!” “I’d do it but we have a quiz! =(“, Jeff apologized, but Ian didn’t say a word. Or rather type a word. Eventually, after enough silence, Wallid put his phone up and sighed. “Okay, so, maximum we’ll be in here three hours,” he mused. “Well, since I should conserve the phone battery, let’s just do something else.” “F-for three hours?”, Caddy stuttered. “What if we run out of air in here?” “Don’t think that’s a thing, Cads,” Wallid assured him. “Just, stop breathing so fast, you’ll start feeling like you are.” Was he hyperventilating? He hadn’t realized it but yeah, his breaths were getting quicker and quicker. Oh god… What if they did run out of air? This room was so narrow… What if he’d ended up killing them both? He knew that was mostly paranoia, but it still made his breathing faster and his heart start beating like it was trying to break out of his chest and out of this room… He started to stand back up, rushing the door and trying to break it down, but Wallid stopped him and pulled him back. “Relax, please. You’ll just hurt yourself if you try and fight a door.” Okay, okay, Wallid was right. He just needed to breath slower and- A pair of arms wrapped around his waist. “Come on, just chill,” Wallid murmured. “You’re fine.” “What the actual hell are you doing?”, Caddy exclaimed. “This isn’t the time to flirt!” Wallid smirked. “Have you ever like, even touched a romance manga. This is the perfect time to flirt.” “This isn’t a romance anything!”, Caddy almost screamed. “Just because we’re locked in a closet together doesn’t mean we should make out!” Wallid gave a strange laugh. “Of course not, but my idea’s working, isn’t it?” “This isn’t working in any way!” A small laugh. “Caddy, you’re breathing normally and you aren’t thinking about the closet, just about being mad at me,” Wallid explained. “Isn’t that working enough for you?” Oh… Oh. Yeah, his breaths had evened out a bit, hadn’t they? “Uh, thanks?” “No problem!”, Wallid exclaimed with a grin. He wrapped his arms tighter around Caddy, reminding him they were there and making him blush. “But, you know, I can think of one way to make time pass faster while we’re in here.” “We aren’t making out!”, Caddy loudly reiterated. “Seriously?” Wallid laughed loudly. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Caddy, I was gonna suggest you take a nap.” Well that made more sense. “Okay, but you’re my pillow; I’m not putting my head down there, I think I saw a rat.” He slid down to put his head in Wallid’s lap. Only slightly less flirty than actually making out, he realized. Oops, but it was comfortable, just as… the fingers rubbing circles on his back were? “What are you doing?”, Caddy questioned. “I mean, it’s fine, but where the actual hell is all this flirty shit coming from?” “Is this flirty?”, Wallid questioned, seemingly holding back a giggle. “I was just trying to make my platonic friend comfortable!” “No, not flirty at all,” he deadpanned in response. “Just shut up and let me sleep, okay? We can take turns, wake me up and I’ll cuddle you to sleep next or something.” A small giggle, and Wallid whispered a “sounds good” before falling silent. Caddy nearly made it to sleep before the door opened. “Okay, had to use the bathroom anyways,” explained the voice of a certain Moose. “So, here, you’re free to-” Ian stopped mid-sentence to stare at the two. Wallid’s hands had migrated from Caddy’s back to his hair, Caddy was curled up close to him, and all around this probably looked really suggestive to anyone looking in. “I swear I can explain,” Caddy assured him. “This isn’t what it looks like.” But Moosey just smirked. “Sure, sure. Want me to close the door back so you can continue?” “Just leave it open,” Wallid groaned. “You’re just jealous…” Stepping away and leaving the door wide open, Ian left, and Caddy let out a sigh. “Don’t really wanna move, to be honest.” “Yeah, me neither,” Wallid admitted. “But, if you feel like it, we could not go back to class and just go back to my dorm and watch movies!”By movies he meant Shrek or the Bee Movie, Caddy knew this. But still, he found himself agreeing. “Sounds great.”
10066265	That Which Has Been Your	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Phryne Fisher, Jack Robinson, Tobias Butler", "Fandom": "Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by Sarahtoo", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-03T00:00:00", "words": "7,242", "Additional Tags": "Open Relationship, Angst, Smut, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Porn With Plot, Death, But not a major character, still gonna hurt though, Sorry Not Sorry", "Relationship": "Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Phrack Fucking Friday", "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 }	Jack stood on the porch at Wardlow, his heart heavy in his chest. He hadn’t been invited here tonight—in fact, he was pretty certain that Phryne had other company—but he hadn’t been able to stay away. He’d gone home after his shift, and he’d spent two hours sitting in his darkened living room, a glass of inferior whiskey in his hand that he had barely sipped from. He’d felt himself falling into melancholy, and he’d been on his feet and out the door before he’d really considered where he was going. He’d arrived here almost without thought, his feet carrying him through the darkened streets to the stately house where his heart resided. Now that he stood here, however, he was hesitating. If she had company, he didn’t want to interrupt… and yet he did. Over the past year since she’d returned from London, he and Phryne had settled into an arrangement that suited them both. They kept their separate residences, but spent more nights together than apart. On their nights apart, she would occasionally take another man to her bed. Although the first few times had been difficult for Jack, she’d returned to him every time with a renewed ardor. Once he’d realized that the other men didn’t affect how she felt about him—that they did, in fact, reinforce her feelings for him—it had ceased to matter. This was something she needed, and he was happy when she was happy.But even wanting her to be happy, it seemed that he would be pulling rank, as it were, with tonight’s suitor. With a small shudder, he rapped softly at the door. After a short wait, it swung open, and Mr. Butler stood in the doorway.“Inspector,” the older man said, his smile genuine. “We weren’t expecting you tonight, were we?” He stepped backward, allowing Jack to move inside. Jack glanced right as he did so—the parlor doors were closed.“No.” Jack’s voice was rough, and he cleared his throat. “No, I hadn’t intended to come by, but I…” He swept his hat off of his head, turning it between long fingers.“Are you quite all right, sir?” Mr. Butler’s expression was concerned, and Jack wondered absently whether he looked that bad.“I’m…” He closed his eyes a moment. “No, I’m really not, Mr. Butler. I’m sorry, but I need to see her.”“Of course, sir,” Mr. Butler said, taking Jack’s hat and then guiding him to turn so that he could remove his overcoat. “Why don’t you head up to the boudoir, and I’ll send her up.”Jack nodded, attempting a small smile that felt more like a grimace. He moved tiredly up the stairs, each step a dragging weight. He hoped that Phryne would forgive him for this, and yet he couldn’t seem to convince himself that it was a bad idea. Pushing through the door to her bedroom, he sat down on the sofa, resting his elbows on his thighs, his hands dangling between his knees. He closed his eyes, letting his head droop forward as he waited for Phryne.***The light knock on the parlor door made Phryne raise her head from the back of the chaise. The handsome young man currently kissing his way down her chest didn’t appear to register the sound, so she set her hands on his shoulders to push him gently away. Mr. Butler was far too discreet to interrupt without a good reason, and Phryne’s first reaction was concern.“What—” The young man, a jazz musician from New Orleans whose name was Remy something-or-other, blinked lazily. “You’re not going to get that, are you?”“I am, yes,” she said, a note of apology in her voice. “It’s likely important.” She nudged her blouse back up over her shoulders, fastening the buttons before moving to open the door a crack. “What is it, Mr. Butler?”“I am sorry to interrupt, miss, but the inspector is here, and he doesn’t look at all himself.” Mr. Butler’s warm brown eyes were concerned, and Phryne’s eyebrows drew together.She drew the door farther open. “What’s wrong? Is he injured?” It didn’t seem like Jack to come over on a night he knew she was entertaining for anything less than an emergency.“He didn’t say. He appeared to be physically well,” Mr. Butler murmured, “but he rather looked like he’d received a shock of some kind.”“Hm, thank you, Mr. B. Where is he?” Phryne felt her stomach twist. This was very unlike Jack—she needed to go to him.“I sent him upstairs, miss, to your bedroom.”Phryne’s eyebrows went up. If Mr. B had sent Jack to her boudoir, he truly was concerned—and he was certain that Jack would need her for long enough that she’d be sending her other company home. She nodded her understanding.“Thank you. I’ll go up in just a moment.”Mr. Butler gave a small bow and withdrew; Phryne closed the door behind him carefully. Remy moved up behind her, sliding his arms around her waist and leaning close to kiss her neck.“Shall we start again, cher?” His drawl was delightful, if not as deep as Jack’s, but Phryne eased away, a smile on her face.“I’m terribly sorry, Remy,” she said, taking his hands in hers and turning to face him. She looked up into his handsome face, an apologetic twist to her lips. “Something urgent has come up this evening. Perhaps I can see you again another time?”Remy’s mouth, which had been curved in a seductive smile, fell open. “You’re sending me away?”“I’m afraid so.” She moved past him to pick up his jacket and hold it out to him. He opened and closed his mouth several times, as if grasping for something to say as he took the jacket and swung it around his shoulders. Finally, in the face of her gentle smile, he seemed to realize that there was nothing to be said. Taking her hand in his, he lifted it to his mouth and gave her a smouldering look. Phryne found that although he was very attractive with his dark hair and eyes and his lithe physique, knowing that Jack had come to her in some sort of distress was enough to extinguish her arousal for this man as if she’d blown out a candle.“Until I see you again, then,” he said.Phryne’s smile never faltered as she slid her hands from his and moved to open the parlor door. Mr. Butler stood in the hall, holding Remy’s hat.“Good night, Remy,” she responded, watching as Mr. B ushered the young man out the front door with a minimum of fuss.When the door was closed behind him, Mr. Butler turned back to her.“Shall I bring up refreshments? Perhaps some sandwiches?”Phryne considered for a moment, then shook her head. “I’ll take up the whiskey, Mr. B. If we need more than that, we’ll call.”“Very good, miss.” He gave her a tiny bow and moved through the dining room doorway, back toward the kitchen.Phryne gathered the whiskey decanter from the parlor, along with two clean glasses, and headed up the stairs. As she ran up, her mind was racing. What could have brought Jack to this?The door to her boudoir was ajar, and Phryne pushed quietly inside, her eyes searching for Jack. She found him, sitting on the sofa, his head in his hands.“Jack?” He lifted his head at the sound of her voice, and she was shocked to see that his eyes were shiny with tears. She set the decanter and glasses down on the table beside the bed and moved toward him. “What is it, darling? What’s happened?” She crouched in front of him, placing one palm on his thigh to steady herself and grasping his hand, lying limply between his knees, with the other.“I’m sorry, Phryne,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t want to interrupt your evening, but I couldn’t be home alone tonight.”“Jack,” she said, lifting her hand to his face. “You’re frightening me. Tell me what’s going on.”He swallowed, hard. “Elsie Tizzard died this morning.” The statement was bald, and his voice broke in the middle of it.Phryne gasped. “Oh, Jack! I’m so sorry.” She cupped his cheek, her thumb stroking away the single tear that fell from his eye. “What happened?”“She… she…” Jack shook his head. Phryne could see that he was struggling not to weep. Standing, she dropped a kiss to his forehead, then moved to pour two glasses of whiskey. When she turned to look at Jack, he had leaned backward into the corner of the sofa, his hands raised to his head. She tilted her head, a sorrowful warmth filling her chest. He would have fought himself over coming here tonight, she knew. Foolish man. He should know that no there-for-an-evening dalliance could be rated above him. He was her partner and her love. He would always come first.She took the two steps back to where he sat. “Jack.” When he opened his eyes, she handed him one of the whiskeys. He took it, blinking. Setting a hand on his shoulder, Phryne slid into his lap. His arms wrapped convulsively around her, and he buried his face in her neck. “I’m glad you came.”With a harsh sound, he began to cry. Phryne drank her whiskey in one quick gulp, then set the empty glass on the couch cushion beside them so that she could enfold him in her arms. She held him close and stroked his neck and hair, murmuring soft words of love and comfort as his body shook against her.When his sobs began to ease, Phryne spoke quietly into his ear.“Let’s get you into a bath, love.”Jack nodded, his breathing choppy. Phryne stood, pulling him up beside her and leading him into her bathing chamber. Guiding him to stand in the middle of the room, she reached over and turned on the taps, scattering in a double handful of bath salts scented with soothing peppermint. As the fragrant steam rose into the room, she turned back to Jack, who still stood where she’d left him, his cheeks wet and his eyes lost.Gently removing his untouched whiskey from his fingers, she set it aside on a table by the tub and began to undress him. She laid his jacket and waistcoat carefully over the suit stand that stood in the corner, then pushed his braces off of his shoulders. Bending, she untied his shoes and removed first them and then his socks, setting both neatly aside. She divested him of his trousers and shirt next, dropping his cufflinks into a small dish set atop the cabinet. His eyes remained on her as she helped him out of his underthings, though not with the heat that these actions would usually call from him; today, he watched her as if she was the only thing holding him together.Once he was naked, he followed her meekly to the nearly full tub, stepping carefully into the steaming water. He sighed as he immersed himself, and she reached across him to turn off the tap.“Lie back, Jack,” she said quietly. “I’ll be right back.” With a stroke over his hair, she moved back out into the bedroom, finding her whiskey glass and refilling it, then swiftly removing her clothing and pulling on her black-on-silver silk robe with the deep V neckline in front and back. Taking her whiskey along, she returned to the bathroom, where Jack had laid his head on the edge of the tub, his eyes closed. She thought for a moment that he’d fallen asleep, but when she set down her whiskey on the table beside his, he lifted his head to look blearily at her. Her heart clenched. His eyes were red and swollen, and so sad that she thought she might cry.She removed her robe, hanging it on a hook beside the tub; naked, she moved to gather up a pair of towels, which she hung beside her robe. Only then did she turn back to Jack, whose eyes were following her.“Sit up for a moment,” she said quietly. When he obeyed, she stepped into the tub behind him, lowering herself to sit down, then sliding her legs around his waist and wrapping her arms around his chest.He nestled back against her with a heavy sigh, his head falling back to rest on her shoulder and his hands settling on her knees. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed a kiss to his temple. After a few silent minutes during which she held him, stroking his chest and arms gently and listening to the sound of his breathing, he spoke.“Elsie came into the station looking for me, apparently. The constable on duty didn’t know her, didn’t know that I knew her, and he sent her away.” His voice was thick with exhaustion and grief, and so low Phryne thought if she hadn’t had her cheek pressed to his, she might not have heard him. “She was drunk. It was midmorning, and she was drunk already. I’d taught her that I’d keep her safe when she’d been drinking, but he turned her away, wouldn’t let her wait in the lobby.” He drew in a shuddering breath. “The evening patrol found her, two blocks from the station. She’d passed out in a puddle, apparently, and rolled or was rolled.” He swallowed hard. “She drowned, Phryne. In bare inches of water.”“Oh, Jack,” she breathed, her arms tightening around him.“I should have protected her,” he whispered, and she felt warm tears streaking down his cheek again. “She was a rare and wonderful lady, and I let her down.”“No, Jack, you didn’t. She came to you, as you’d asked her to do, but she’d made the choice to drink to excess. And you would not have turned her away.” She kissed his cheek, her hand on his chest pausing over his heart. “I told you once that you had a heart as big as the Pacific Ocean, but I think that wasn’t big enough. Your heart is big enough to encompass all the world.”“I wish it wasn’t,” he said, his teeth clenched. “I’m not sure I can bear it.”“You can,” she said simply. “I’ll help you.” She kissed him again, and he leaned his head into the pressure of her lips. “What did you say to the constable?” She asked the question, but she thought she knew. Jack’s reaction would have depended on the young man’s. And since Jack was an excellent judge of character, she rather thought the young man would have been almost as upset as Jack himself was.“He was already distraught, realizing he’d made the wrong choice and blaming himself. I couldn’t find it in me to reprimand him past a reminder that the police are intended to serve and protect.” Jack shook his head slightly, his eyes closing. Phryne marveled at him, at his control. She wasn’t sure she’d have been able to hold back, in the same situation. And she rather thought Jack’s way was better. That young man would come away from this with a memory that would likely make him a better officer in the long run.“I’m afraid that I’ll never be able to look at him again, though,” he whispered. “His actions killed my friend.”“I suspect that it would be a relief for the both of you if your schedules didn’t overlap, at least for a while.” She murmured, reaching for a sponge and a bar of soap. She worked up a lather and began to stroke the sponge gently over his arms, shoulders, and chest.Jack nodded, releasing a long sigh. “He’s a good man, and you’re right that Elsie made her choice to take to drink. I just…”“I know, love,” she said quietly. She dunked the sponge under the water, lifting it to rinse his skin.“And after that, I had to drive up to the prison to tell her son that his mother was gone.”“Oh, Jack…” Phryne’s hand stilled. She didn’t have fond memories of Matthew Tizzard—he’d held her at gunpoint and been a friend to the man who’d killed her little sister—but she knew that he and his mother had been close.“I could have called, I know, but she was my friend, and she loved her son. I couldn’t let him be alone when he heard the news.” He swallowed hard. “His face, Phryne…” Jack’s breath hitched again, and she saw that he’d closed his eyes, another tear leaking out to trail down one cheek. “Matthew just lost the one person in the world who believed in the goodness of him. I hope that he’ll hold to that goodness in her memory and make a fresh start, but I’m very afraid that he’ll fall farther away without her to center him.”“Did you have to go back to the station, or did you come straight here from the prison?” Phryne had wrapped her arms around him again, and she lifted her feet to wrap them around his hips. *Jack’s hands slid up and down her legs as he tried to decide how to answer that. Truthfully would be best, he supposed. He grimaced a little. “Neither, actually. I went home.”“Jack!” Her voice was shocked, and he felt her hands jump against his skin. He wrapped his hands around her legs, glad that he was leaning against her so that she wouldn’t be able to walk away.“I didn’t want to disturb you—I knew you had company, and…” He trailed off. Said aloud, the words sounded ridiculous, as if he didn’t know where her priorities lay.“Jack Robinson! I can’t believe you. Why would you even hesitate to come straight here?” He could hear the hurt in her voice, and it struck him hard. He moved to sit up a little so that he could twist enough to meet her eyes. They were wide, and the stricken look on her face made his heart squeeze.“I’m sorry, Phryne, I don’t know what I was thinking.” He shook his head. “I guess I wasn’t thinking very clearly. Can you forgive me?”“Never doubt that you are important enough for me to put you first, Jack.”He winced. He knew how integral loyalty was to Phryne’s character. “I don’t, really, love. I just… I don’t know. I didn’t wallow, though. I did come eventually.” “Hmph.” Phryne tugged him back against her, wrapping her arms around him. “And that is the only reason why I’m not angrier with you. Just… don’t do it again.”“I’ll do my best not to.” It was his turn to tilt his head so that his cheek rested alongside hers. “I never want to hurt you.”She sighed, and he hoped she was letting her anger and hurt go. “I know it. And I suppose we hadn’t actually talked about what to do in a situation like this.”“We shouldn’t have had to. I know who you are and where I fit into your life. I won’t forget again.” The soft kiss she laid on his temple let him know that she believed him. They sat together quietly for a while longer, until the water cooled. Finally, Jack stood, stepping out of the tub to the rug and reaching for a towel. When Phryne stood too, he wrapped it around her shoulders and held out a hand to anchor her as she climbed over the tub’s edge. He reached into the water to pull the plug, and she turned to grasp the second towel she’d pulled out. When he stood, she was there, her own towel bound around her breasts and the other in her hands. He reached for it, but she shook her head and began to dry his body herself.She stroked the soft toweling across his skin, starting with his chest. He stood quietly under her hands, his mind at rest for the first time that evening. He could feel the heaviness of exhaustion in his limbs even as she dried them, though her nearness and the feel of her hands was having a predictable effect on his body.He leaned toward her, covering her lips with his, and she kissed him back. She made a soft noise of pleasure in the back of her throat, but pulled away to move around him to dry his back. Jack caught the edge of her towel between his fingers, and as she stepped away, it slid off, leaving her nude. She looked at him, a glimmer of humor in her eyes, and continued her work. When she’d dried his back, she dropped the towel to the floor and pressed herself against him, her hands coming around his hips to grasp his hardening cock.“Phryne…” he breathed, his head falling backward at the feeling of her hands stroking him and her breasts against his back. She laid a kiss on his shoulder blade, the rhythm of her hands slow and firm, pulling and pushing against him. Jack reached back to put his hands on her hips, his fingers digging into the flesh of her buttocks. Her ministrations sped up, and he could feel himself building toward climax, but he didn’t want to go there without her. Not tonight.“Phryne, wait,” he said hoarsely, one hand moving to cover hers on his hard flesh. “I want to be inside you.” He took a step away, his hand still on hers, and turned to face her. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, and she’d caught her lower lip between her teeth.She shook her head slightly. “I wanted to comfort you,” she said, her tone hesitant. He could tell that she was still hurt that he hadn’t come to her straight away, and he wanted nothing more than to banish that look in her eyes.“Let me love you.” He said, raising his hands to cup her cheeks, his fingers playing along her cheekbones as he gazed at her. “I came here tonight because all I could think was that being with you, surrounded by you, would make the pain go away.”*Phryne’s eyes searched Jack’s, and she could see the sincerity in them. She wished that she could remain angry at him for not coming directly to her, but she did understand. She’d made it clear that she needed the freedom to take other lovers occasionally, and he had given that, unhesitatingly. Knowing Jack, he’d been fogged with grief and yet his first thought would have been for her comfort.“I love you, you know,” she said. “I do know, and it is the greatest miracle of my life.” “You are my miracle, Jack.” Her voice was softly sincere. “I never thought that I could have a man I loved, who loved me in return, and still have the freedom to make my own choices. You gave me that.” She lifted her hands to his wrists, keeping her eyes on his. “Let me be perfectly clear on this. If you are ever in need, I want to help. You’re my priority.”“I’m sorry to have made you doubt that I knew that, Phryne.” He leaned closer, resting his forehead against hers. “You’re my priority too.”“Then make love to me,” she whispered, and rose on her tiptoes to press her mouth to his.He kissed her back, his tongue sweeping inside her mouth. She slid her hands up his arms to twine around his neck, pulling herself up against his chest. The hard length of his cock lay hot against her stomach, and she pressed closer.With a groan, Jack wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up off the floor; she raised her legs to wrap them around his waist, never breaking their kiss. Turning, he moved through to the bedroom, one hand out to guide himself through the bathroom doorway. When his knees hit the edge of the bed, he turned around to sit, still kissing her. Phryne clung to him, all of her attention on the feel and taste of his mouth. She could still detect the whiskey she’d drunk before climbing onto his lap, but his taste was unadulterated Jack, sweet and warm and smooth. She feasted on him, pulling his lower lip into her mouth, then sweeping her tongue in to feel the softness of the skin behind it. She sipped at his upper lip, and moaned when he captured her lower between his teeth. The tiny bite of pain was immediately soothed by his tongue, which she moved to intercept with her own.With her legs looped behind him, her pelvis tilted just so and she could feel the hard length of him lying hot against the outer lips of her sex. Phryne rolled her hips, sliding her damp folds along his cock. She whimpered at the sensation, and Jack’s hands slid down to grasp her hips and help her move.Biting her lip, Phryne lifted her mouth away, focusing on the slide of his flesh along hers. Between his pressure and her own, his cock was between her folds now, and the friction against her clitoris was quickly ratcheting upward. Jack took advantage of the freedom of his mouth to duck his head and lick one of her nipples, the warm wetness of his tongue a delicious counterpoint to the warm wetness between her legs.Phryne raised her head, looking down at him; his eyes were closed, and he’d pursed his lips around her flesh. Farther down, she could see the slick red head of his cock between their bodies, appearing and disappearing as she moved along it. “Lie back, Jack,” she murmured, and he raised his head, his eyes opening to see hers. His gaze was blurry with arousal and his lips were slightly swollen from her kisses and his own. “Phryne?”“Lie back,” she repeated, lifting her hips and pushing against his shoulders so that he’d move fully onto the bed. As soon as he’d stretched out, she settled down on top of him again, this time on her knees. She continued to pulse her hips against his, her hands resting against his chest, her fingers toying lightly with his nipples. His breathing was uneven, and he stroked his hands up to cup her breasts. Even after having made love so many times, the way he touched her breasts still made Phryne gasp. He always paid attention to the undercurves, touching them softly with his fingertips and weighing them against his palms before lightly pinching her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.Phryne looked down at him, loving the way that he kept his eyes on his hands, seemingly mesmerized, even as she teased his cock. Quite suddenly, she couldn’t wait any longer. She raised herself up on her knees, trailing one hand down his body to grasp his cock. Drawing him carefully downward, she rotated her hips to circle the soft head around her clit before moving him into position. When his cockhead was set at her entrance, she watched his face as she slowly sank down upon him. He groaned her name as he entered her, his neck going taut; when he was fully seated, she circled her hips gently against him, stimulating her clitoris and his scrotum with the combined heat of their bodies. Leaning forward, she pressed her breasts into his hands.“Phryne…” His deep voice got deeper when he was fucking, Phryne had noticed, and the change in timbre was a joy to her. She smiled as she slowly slid up his length and then back down again, grinding against his base when she reached it. “Oh god… so good… love you so much…”With that last, Phryne’s surges became considerably less controlled. She sped up, her hips pumping against him, and raised her hands to where his lay upon her breasts, catching his wrists again to brace herself. “Jack!” His name was torn out of her by pleasure, and she pushed hard against him at groin and chest, hands clenching and neck arching as her orgasm ripped through her. She opened her eyes as the spasms passed to see his gaze fixed on her face.“That is the most beautiful thing.” His whisper was more like a growl, and he surged up against her, his arms sliding around her back. Phryne’s hands slid up his arms to twine around his neck, her fingers spearing into his hair. Her muscles were loose, but she could still feel the hard length of him inside her. Wanting to see him shatter too, she pressed her lips to his neck, trailing kisses up the strong tendon there. She began to move again, her hips gliding against him. Trying to keep the movements of her hips slow, she put her focus on tracing her tongue around the outer shell of his ear, dipping occasionally in to trail along the inner ridges. She felt him shudder slightly, and groan her name; his hands moved to her bottom, urging her to move faster, but she resisted. “I love you, Jack,” she breathed, imagining her breath swirling around the whorls of his ear like smoke before sinking into his head. On the soft click of the consonant at the end of his name, she drew his earlobe between her teeth, laving it with her tongue and then sucking lightly.“Fuck,” Jack’s curse was percussive, and with a sudden jerk, he rolled them, covering her body with his. Raising his head, he tilted a look at her, and she smiled, delighted to have made him lose control. “You…”“Oh yes, Jack.” She said, smiling. “Fuck. Me.”“You are a menace,” he growled, beginning to thrust, long and slow.“And you love it,” she agreed. She bent her knees, setting her feet flat on the bed to widen her hips.“I am a fortunate man.” She laughed at that, the sound turning into a moan as he applied himself to his rhythm. He set one elbow on the bed beside her shoulder and pulled his other hand down her chest, pinching her nipple lightly as he stroked past her breast. He held her eyes as he turned his hand and burrowed it between their bodies to place his fingers on her clit. She whimpered; the combination of his cock stroking in and out, root to tip and back again, with the slide of his fingers as he circled them against the already sensitized knot of nerves was exquisite.She kept one hand in his hair, grabbing it tight—something she knew that he loved—and trailed the other downward. She traced his ear—the one she hadn’t already tormented—trailing beyond it to his cheekbone, then stroked down his jaw to the small cleft in his chin, his day’s beard growth slightly scratchy against her fingers. On down his neck then, fingers light on his Adam’s apple as he swallowed, and feeling the vibrations of his voice at the base of his neck as he groaned her name. His rhythm was becoming choppier now, long strokes alternating with short, sharp thrusts or deep pulses, and she reveled in it, watching his face.He’d closed his eyes, his attention obviously on the sensation of their bodies coming together, and she loved the furrow in his brow, the glimpse of his teeth as his mouth fell open, the sheen of sweat on his forehead. Her soft caresses moved down farther, stroking across his chest to lightly circle his nipple, her fingernails scraping gently across the pebbled flesh. Eyes on his face, she pinched his nipple softly, her other hand clenching in his hair, and then he was coming, his final thrust hard and deep, the warmth of his release within her palpable. His face as he came was beautiful, his cheeks flushing, the lines around his eyes deepening as he squeezed them shut, his jaw clenching to keep his shout contained. Whatever it was that made him so very attractive when he was in control was quadrupled for Phryne when he lost that control, and just the sight of him shattering with pleasure sent her pelting over the edge for a second time.With a grunt, Jack collapsed, rolling with her again to lie on his back, Phryne sprawled atop him. She laid her head on his shoulder, one hand flat against his chest; she loved the feeling of him softening inside her, second only to having him hard inside her. Well, maybe third, as orgasms have much to recommend them. She smiled at her own thoughts even as she arched into Jack’s hands as they stroked her back warmly.“You’ll stay the night, won’t you?” She murmured against his skin, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. A sudden thought struck her. “Did you eat supper?”“I…” He paused, and Phryne lifted her head to look at him. His eyebrows were furrowed, as if he was thinking back. “I don’t think I did, actually. I didn’t even think of it.”“Well, come on then,” she said, dropping a kiss to his lips as she pushed away from him, letting him slide out of her body. He let out an inarticulate protest, his arms tightening for a moment, then letting go. “Let’s go raid the pantry. If we don’t, you won’t be able to sleep.”“I was comfortable,” he mumbled, but he rose, following her to the bathroom to clean up. She watched as he pulled a pair of pajama bottoms from the drawer of the bureau, and then shrugged into his robe, which hung just inside Phryne’s closet. Phryne studied him as she tugged a short, amber-satin slip-style nightgown over her head, then pulled on her silver-and-black robe. He looked better, more like himself, though she could tell that he was exhausted. Between the crying jag and their lovemaking, he likely had used up all of his reserves. She’d get him something to eat, then tuck him into bed—and herself with him. A good night’s rest would do him good.She blinked and found Jack watching her; he stepped closer as she tied the robe’s fabric belt. “I love that robe when you wear nothing underneath it,” he murmured, tracing a finger along the wide V of the robe’s neckline, and bumping across the scoop where the nightgown covered most of her chest.“So do I.” She lifted on her toes to kiss him softly. “But Mr. B was concerned about you—it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s still up. I don’t mind scandalizing him, but there’s no need to be cruel.” Her smile was sly, and Jack returned it. She slid her hand into his, their fingers intertwining, and they headed down to the kitchen. She’d been right—Mr. Butler sat at the kitchen table, nonchalantly polishing the silver tea set that Phryne almost never used. She gave him a small smile, which he returned.“Mr. B, Jack managed to miss supper. Is there anything in the house that can ease a starving man?” She laughed as Jack sputtered out a denial of the urgency of this request, and Mr. Butler’s smile widened.“Of course, miss,” he said, setting his polishing aside and moving to wash his hands. “I have some roast beef that will do nicely for sandwiches.” “You’re a gem, Mr. B.” Phryne pushed Jack down into a chair at the table and moved to pull down the tin of shortbread that Dot had made the previous day. Setting it on the table, she pulled a napkin from the sideboard and sat beside Jack just as Mr. Butler set a plate with two thickly stacked sandwiches in front of him. As Jack dug in with a murmur of thanks, she exchanged a glance with her butler. Mr. B’s eyebrows went up in inquiry, and she nodded reassuringly. He flashed a relieved smile, and Phryne returned it. She loved that her butler cared about Jack so much—he’d obviously been worried, and she rather thought he’d had the sandwich ingredients ready in case food was needed. Mr. Butler poured a tall glass of milk and set it beside Jack’s plate, looking pleased at the fact that Jack had devoured almost half of what he’d been served already. “If you don’t need anything else, miss, I’ll head off to bed.”“I think we’ll be fine, Mr. B. Thank you.”***Jack looked up and smiled at the older man. “Yes, thank you, Mr. Butler. This is delicious. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was.” “You are very welcome, inspector,” Mr. Butler’s voice was warm. “I’m pleased that you’re looking more like yourself.” He nodded to them both and withdrew.Jack turned surprised eyes to Phryne. “If Mr. Butler was concerned enough to mention my improvement, I must have been quite a sad sight.” He sobered, thinking of his state of mind when he’d arrived this evening.She reached out and rubbed his arm, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “You had reason,” she murmured.He sighed heavily. “I’ll miss her. Elsie, I mean.”“Of course you will.”“Have I ever told you about the first time I met her?” He slanted a look at Phryne, a small smile ticking up one corner of his mouth. Lifting the first half of the second sandwich to his mouth, he took a bite, and the flavors of rare beef and horseradish mingled agreeably on his tongue. “No, I don’t believe you have,” she said, pulling her chair closer so that she could tuck in beside him. “Though I remember she told me once that she’d been your first arrest?”Jack laughed softly. “She was. It was almost twenty years ago—my first night on the job. I was patrolling somewhere in Collingwood, and I heard shouting. As I turned to investigate, two men came pelting out into the street, both of them with their hands up to protect their heads.” Jack lifted his hands, crossing them over his head in illustration. “And here comes this virago—five feet nothing in her bare feet—running out behind them with a cast iron frying pan lifted high over her head.” He shook his head. “She was screaming ‘Get out’ and ‘How could you?’ as she chased them; one of the two tripped almost at my feet, and she whacked him across the buttocks. His howl was tremendous.” “She hit him? In front of a constable?” Phryne’s eyes were wide.“She did. And she was drawing back to hit him again when I caught her arm. I said something like ‘hold on there,’ and she looked up at me as she stopped her swing. Her eyes were furious, and she was breathing like she’d run a mile.” Jack looked down at his sandwich. “I was frankly speechless at the anger on her face, and she told me that her man and this one had hatched a scheme to use her son, who was no more than six, to rob a bank. Apparently they needed someone small to crawl through a culvert and let them in.”Phryne gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.“But Elsie wouldn’t have it. When she’d heard the scheme, she’d picked up her frying pan and proceeded to beat both men about the shoulders.” Jack smiled a little grimly. “She told me later that she’d never been prouder of herself than in that moment, when she was protecting her son’s innocence.”“But Jack… you arrested her?” Phryne’s voice was incredulous.“Mmm,” he said, around a mouthful of sandwich. “I did, for affray. I took her pan away and let her get her boy, then took them and the would-be bank robber in. The man who’d got away was her son’s father; we picked him up the next day.” He swallowed. “But Elsie and Matthew spent the night at the station because she didn’t want risk meeting him at home. With her testimony, both her man and the other went to prison for a number of years.” He shook his head. “We dropped the charges against Elsie the next day, and she took her son home. But thus was a friendship born.”“However did you manage to avoid Welfare being called in? And how was it that they let Matthew stay with his mother in the cell?”“Well,” he said sheepishly. “They didn’t exactly spend the night in a cell. They stayed in the front waiting area with me.” He glanced at her and took another bite of his sandwich.“And I suppose that you conveniently forgot to file her arrest papers or the Welfare information?” Phryne said, a slight smile curving her lips. “I really did have trouble with paperwork in those first years.” He winked at her as he popped the last bit of sandwich into his mouth. “Much like an honorary constable I once knew.”“Ha, ha.” Phryne leaned in to nudge his shoulder for his cheek. “Drink your milk, inspector, and let’s go back to bed.”Jack raised his glass to her and drank his milk down, then pushed away from the table to carry his plate and glass to the sink and rinse them. When he turned back to her, Phryne was standing beside the table, and she reached out her hand to him.Jack took her hand and, stepping forward, bent to put his lips to it. She shivered a little as he held her eyes, a tremor seeming to travel up her arm as his mouth warmed her skin. And when he turned her hand over in his and pressed kisses first to the inside of her wrist, and then to her palm, she drew in a shaky breath. Straightening, he laced his fingers with hers, trapping that kiss between their hands, and tugged her toward the stairs.They didn’t speak until they were back in her boudoir and had shed their robes to climb into bed. Jack pulled Phryne close in the darkened room, burying his nose in her hair and breathing deeply in.“Thank you, love,” he whispered, and he felt her shift against him.“What for?” She cuddled closer, wrapping an arm around him.“For being here. For being you.”“Well, I can’t help the latter, I’m afraid, so I’m glad it pleases you.” He could hear the thread of laughter in her voice, though her tone was loving. He chuckled a little. “And as for the former…” He felt the press of her lips to the skin over his heart, and her voice dropped to a murmur. “I’ll always want to be here when you need me.”She shifted to wrap a leg over his, surrounding him with her warmth. “Go to sleep, darling,” she whispered. “I’ve got you.”With an exhausted sigh, he closed his eyes and breathed her in. The knowledge that she would be his bastion, that she would catch him if he should falter, made it easy to give in to sleep. He kissed her hair, feeling his body relax. His belly was full, his heart felt emptied of the grief he’d carried in, his desire was sated, and he held Phryne Fisher in his arms. All’s right with the world, Jack thought muzzily as he dropped off gently into sleep.
10061426	In Loving Memory	{ "Archive Warning": "Major Character Death", "Category": null, "Characters": "Denise Gant, Shane \"Scarecrow\" Schofield, Buck \"Book II\" Riley Jr., Gena \"Mother\" Newman", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by sevenholypathstohell", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-03T00:00:00", "words": "748", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "REILLY Matthew - Works, Scarecrow Series - Matthew Reilly", "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 }	October 30th 2003 Denise Gant, soon to be Denise Murray, has finally packed up all of her belongings and picks up her cell, she’s about to call her fiance to pick her up. Things are looking up for her when there is a ring of the doorbell.“Deedee!” her elderly father bellows raspily from the bathroom “Get the door!”“Of course, daaaad!” she replies.She hops down the stairs and swings the door open, all ready to greet the man who she will so eagerly share her future with.“Hey Dave! Didn’t expect you to get here so-”It is not her fiance she sees at the door. Instead, she is greeted by a United States Marine dressed in the Corps’ distinctive blue coat. He carries only two things- a yellow letter in his right arm, and a stoic expression. Denise’s expression falls through the floor.“Good morning, miss.” the Lance Corporal greets with practiced ease “Is this the family of Elizabeth Gant?” November 11th, 2003 Denise can hardly bear to watch. The sister she grew up with, the sister she admired for so long, is gone. In her place is a solid wooden box with the stars and stripes draped over it. As the funeral contingent ready their M14s for the 21 gun salute, the senior Mrs Gant sobs into her husband’s chest. Mr Gant too, weeps a tear for her and for the buddies he lost in the jungles of Vietnam. Denise simply leans on her fiance’s shoulder, staring dumbly at the lead coffin.To her knowledge, her sister’s squad suffered an ambush while hunting terrorists in Afghanistan. She doesn’t see Gena clench her fist when she hears the case officer lies through her teeth about what happened, but she does hear her muttering something as she stomps away, something to the effect of “Fucking desk-drivers”. She isn’t to know her sister’s remains are really half a world away, never recovered from the shark pool at the Forteresse De Valois, but Gena swears on her life to tell the real story. What they see before them now is in fact an empty coffin. She is owed the truth.Denise finally lets go of her rose, letting it fall and wither on the lowered coffin of her sister. She looks up for the first time that day and scans the faces of the soldiers who cared for her. Buck Reilly Jr.- the stoic sergeant’s face is once again inscrutable, but this time he is thoughtful- he plans to spend the rest of the day remembering his father and teammates. Gena Newman- the big lady with the crew cut, is openly dabbing her cheeks with her handkerchief, one of her best friends in the entire world was gone. Shane Schofield- her eyes widen. This is the first time she is seeing the legendary Scarecrow without his shades, and she realizes why he goes to such lengths to hide his face. She also realizes his face looks exactly like hers right now- blushed and puffy, the look of someone exhausted from crying. The very same Marine who delighted in sharing her sister’s life and fought entire armies with her, now an empty husk. Things will never be the same for him, or for herself, she is convinced. March 1st, 2004 Denise hurries her little Scion down the street, having finally cleared the traffic jams in downtown Richmond, witnessing a very familiar looking man in silver shades about to enter a Chevrolet Camaro.“Oh hell no, ‘Scarecrow’. I’ve spent far too long getting here for you to be driving off like this.” She mutters.She parks right behind Schofield, slamming on her breaks right before she bumps into his car. That’s got his attention.The next hour is spent divulging some of the less sensitive details of the mission under a swear to complete secrecy. When Denise hears the last of it, she takes a moment to run everything through her mind, before grabbing everyone in a gigantic hug that belied her petite stature.“Thank you. Thank you all for taking care of her. I wish I could’ve been there for her too, y’know? And Schofield?”“Yeah?” he responds quietly.“She would want you to continue living in her name, so don’t give up. Don’t you dare give up, because there’s plenty more baddies to be fought in this world and we need good people like you to fight the good fight. She will always, always, be your side, alright?"
10059962	Pack Street Snacktime	{ "Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Betty (Pack Street), Remmy Cormo, Ambiguous Voices", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by orphan_account", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-03T00:00:00", "words": "2,204", "Additional Tags": "Hallucinations, Having Arm ripped off, Then having to eat said arm, Blood and Gore, Vomiting, Mood Swings", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "The Woes Of A Hornless Ram", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Zootopia (2016), Pack Street - Fandom", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	"Betty, seriously." I try my best to body-block the massive wolf in front of me, but she simply kicks me aside. It's not a rough kick, and it doesn't hurt either. It's more like a shove then anything. She stomps through the doorway, setting a few duffle bags down on my kitchen counter. I stare suspiciously at a particularly familiar one..."Oh, quit your complaining. I'm just staying over for a few days. A week, at the most. Shouldn't take longer then that to get you sorted out." "No, you really don't have to-" I'm cut off by a condescending glare. "I'll turn around and leave right now if you've got any better ideas." I open my mouth to protest, but I realize that I really don't. I mean, not that any of this seems like a good idea in the first place, but...well....emphasis on 'better.' Although.. "What's the worst that could happen? I could just tie myself down or something." "Tie yourself down? Really?" Ok, that sounded way less naive in my head. But if I just lock my door, then there's nothing I can really hurt myself on... I'll probably make a lot of noise though. Shit, there's really no way around this. Aside from how uncomfortable I can see this being in of itself, I can't have her finding out where I work. She'd probably bust a gut and shout it from the rooftops. "Look, I'm here, weather you like it or not. So what's the point of arguing?" Without waiting for an answer, she sits down onto my couch. The door isn't even closed got pete's sake. I trudged across the room to close it, and my ears begin to ring. She's just gonna come into my house, disrespect me, and pretend like it's nothing. She's using MY problems to get close to me. To humiliate me. To spite me. To hurt me. No, no we got a reeeaaall fuckin' problem here. No, this ain't gonna fly. This b- A sharp pain in my hooves snaps me out of my thoughts. Looking down at them, I realize that I've been clenching the doorknob a bit too hard. Gee, what was that? First nightmares, then sleepwalking, now unnreasonable anger? God, maybe I do have a problem. "Hey, earth to Remmy." I'm snapped out of my thoughts yet again by something slightly less painful. "You ok?" "Yeah, fine. Just sort of spaced out." Betty glares at me. "Was that a pun just now?" Pun? "What? No." She snorts at me. "Good. I'm gonna put your ass through a wall if you start telling puns, fair warning." "If that's your idea of a punishment, maybe you should re-think what the word means." The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, and the hooves I slap over my muzzle a second later do nothing to help. I'm sure that's not what I meant to say. There's no way. Judging by her expression, Betty's just as confused as I am. After a second, it melts into what somewhat resembles a grin. "Nightmares, sleepwalking, shitty inadvertent puns, and now crappy flirting? What on earth am I gonna do with you..." I can feel myself about to say "Anything you want, babe." But I press my hooves a bit harder so all that comes out is "Anbmph yu wambph, bpph" Betty shakes her head and picks up the T.V. remote, saying nothing. Ok, maybe this is a legitimate problem. Still, It's dangerous. Every time I try to think of an excuse I find myself more and more inclined to give in. But having to LIVE with Betty? No, I've got to put my foot down now."Betty, listen." She glances at me out of the corner of her eye with mild amusement. My voice is a bit shaky, but not so much that it completely betrays me. "I understand that you're trying to take care of me and all, but I'm an independent adult, and would prefer that you take your things and go." I'm a bit surprised and proud that I didn't stutter. somewhere in there. She turns the T.V. off before bringing to fully face me, propping her head up on her paw. "No." Plain and simple. "And there ain't a damn thing you can do about it." Son of a- "Betty, this is MY apartment, and I'm asking you to leeaaAAAA" My words turn into a bleat as she suddenly lifts me off the ground like a rag doll, standing up to her full height. "Yeah, well your MY Omega." Her voice is stern and forceful, but I can hear traces of amusement. "So stuff it. My show's about to be on and I'm not gonna miss it because you don't know what's good for ya." Rather then set me down, Betty sits back onto the couch, holding me against her in a possessive hug. Gosh, this is cute and all, but I've had it up to here with this. I struggle a bit against her, trying futilely to get up. "Betty, let go of me." "Or what, you'll bite me with your nubby little teeth?" "I said, let go." She chuckles a little. "Make me, fluff." "Let go." I can feel my lungs starting to into burn. The smell of smoke begins to fill them. Betty shifts position, holding me out in front of her by the ribs. She tilts her head, staring at me. "You ok, yarnball?" I tense up as she talks. I never noticed how sharp her teeth were. The practically poke out of her mouth. Like long, ivory needles. "B-betty let go of me." "Hey, calm down." She leans forward a bit, so that my face is right in front of hers. Her warm breath spreads across my face as she stares at me, her maw part way open. Her teeth are even closer now. "Betty, s-seriously, let me go. T-this isn't funny." Fear begins to course through me as she opens her mouth again to speak. "Easy now, Remmy. Deep breaths. You're going to be ok." No, no. She's trying to get my guard down. Trying to soften me up before she eats me alive. No, no no no. I'm not letting that happen. I don't want to be eaten. I wrap my hooves around Betty's wrists, squeezing them tightly. "Let go of me. Right now." "Remmy, I need you to-" "No. LET GO OF ME." "Whoah, keep it down-" " "I SAID LET GO." I kick suddenly, hitting her square in the muzzle. She drops me, yelping a little in surprise. I immediately begin to crawl backwards. Blood trickles out of Betty's nose. She wipes it on her arm, before staring at it for a second and licking it off. Her gaze slowly shifts towards me. The sweaty, vulnerable, defenseless ram on the ground. "C'mere for a second, lambchop." She gets up suddenly, beginning to walk over to me. It's a slow, careless walk. Her foosteps are heavier then usual. "No." I mutter, crawling backwards. "Get back! Stay away from me!" "Ssshhh. It's ok. Just come a bit closer..." She kneels onto the ground once she's closer to me, so that she's almost prowling towards me on all fours. "I don't bite." She grins menacingly before snapping her jaws. "Like hell you don't! Stay back!" I look around for some sort of weapon, but there's nothing within reach. I crawl back some more before realizing that I'm backed against a wall. It seems that Kitty's noticed this too. She giggles quietly, licking her lips. The giggle soon rises into a chuckle, which turns into loud, blood curdling laughter. Her jaws wide open, the Timber Wolf lunges at me. Instinctively, I throw my left arm out in front of me. Her jaws close on it, and sharp, jagged teeth begin to rip through my flesh like daggers. I cab feel them digging into the bone beneath. I cry out in pain as blood begins to leak from the wounds, despite the multiple teeth lodged into them. I can feel tears of pain beginning to flow from my teeth. A sudden jerking motion prompts me to look up at my now heavily torn up arm. Betty whips her head to the side, taking my arm with it. I can feel it beginning to come loose from my arm. She presses a claw against my shoulder before jerking her head one last time, growling. With the unmistakable, sickening noise of tearing flesh and disconnecting bone, my arm is roughly dislodged from my shoulder. Laughing triumphantly, the beast in front of me shakes it's head from side to side, my arm dangling loosely from it's mouth. A mix if blood and saliva trails from it's half open maw. I clutch the mutilated mound of flesh that was once my left shoulder. I can feel warm, wet, sticky blood spilling out through my hooves. I feel like vomiting on the spot, but the pain is too intense. God, the pain. I can feel myself beginning to get dizzy. I look back to the beast. It finally spits my arm out. It's been cleaned to the bone, save for a few small bites. Some of the marrow's even been sucked our through large, roughly made indentations. The beast picks a few stray pieces of wool from it's teeth. They're stained with blood. My blood. A few pieces of sinew hang out of them... My vision is beginning to cloud over, and turn black around the edges. It focuses and unfocuses with the beat of my heart. My head's beginning to hurt almost as much as my shoulder more and more by second. My head begins to tilt downward. Getting your arm ripped off and eaten in front of you really takes a lot out of you... But a rough claw pulls my head back up by the chin, so that I'm staring right into the blood stained face of that fucking monster. It stares at me, grinning contently. "Now now, don't go falling asleep on me. It's not nap time yet." I shudder at the sound of it's voice. It's so sickeningly similar to Hers... "I've had my little snack for the time being, but we've still gotta get YOU taken care of." The monster plucks my mostly eaten arm off the ground, waving it in my face. "What? Thought I'd just eat it all without saving some for you? Open wide, lambchop~" It pokes at my muzzle with one of the few remaining chunks of flesh. I tilt my head to the side, avoiding it. "Y-you...you s-ick fuck..." I manage to wheeze. It gives me a disappointed stare. "Hey now! Don't you talk to me like that young man." It forces my head back to center. With a well placed claw, it forces my mouth open. "Here comes the airplaaaane!" It croons. I grab at it's arm with my remaining one, but my efforts are futile. It shoves the flesh into my mouth, before forcing my jaws shut over it, slicing it off and into my mouth. I try to spit it out, but my mouth is being held shut. I gag roughly as the creature holds my head back. "Swallow." I choke and sputter before my need for air gives way. The chunk of sheep meat slides down my throat and into my stomach. "W-w ha t the f-fuuucck.." I tilt my head to the side the second it's released and throw up. The piece of soggy mutton lies in front of me in a pool of blood, saliva and stomach acid. I open wide and dry-heave over it. "Aaw, looks like someone has an upset tummy..." I'm suddenly lifted off the ground from behind, and into the arms of the great black monster. It feels like I'm burning alive right now, from all the heat and pain, but I'm still shivering. "Maybe we should get this stomach of yours removed, huh?" It raises it's claw, but stops suddenly in mid air. "But y'know, it'd be rude of me not to share. We'll have to take a raincheck on that for now. I've got some friends who'd KILL for a taste of you~" With that, the creature plants a sloppy kiss on my muzzle. "I love you, ya know that?" It's faint, and echoey, but I can still hear it. My vision is finally reduced to blackness, and all the pain is gone. My body is numb. Yet somehow, it still feels like I'm floating. That weightless feeling of floating in the air. Somehow, I can still hear voices too, over the ringing in my ears. They're faint, and almost impossibleto recognize. Yet, they're there."Is he going to be ok?""I'm not sure. His heartrate is stabilizing, but it's already below average pace and dropping.""Damnit, there's gotta be something you can do.""We'll try our best, ma'am.""Hey, we care about him too you know!""Yes, of course.""Just, take care of him. Please.""I'm sorry, but you'll all have to wait outside." "I love you. Don't die on me, damnit."....."Don't die..."...."I love you....." And everything fades to silence.
10020728	Forever is Our Today	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Locus (Red vs. Blue), Lavernius Tucker", "Fandom": "Red vs. Blue", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by ZaliaChimera", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-02-28T00:00:00", "words": "4,166", "Additional Tags": "Implied/Referenced Character Death, Immortality, Far Future, Angst, Sexual Content, last ones alive, Alcohol, Memories, Immortals in Space, Enemies to Friends, Survivor Guilt, Loneliness, Affection, magical alien swords, Consensual Sex, Light Angst", "Relationship": "Locus/Lavernius Tucker", "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 last bar had closed down about a decade ago, but a new one had opened on the same street, on the same small, out of the way planet where they'd first encountered each other. Chorus has changed a lot in the couple of hundred years since the civil war. Iona, the second city which had been a mostly abandoned ghost town, is now a thriving capital, full of skyscrapers and some of the most advanced Human-Sangheili research facilities in the galaxy. It still gives Tucker a jolt every time he sees it. The bar is tucked away on a side street in the oldest part of the city. It's an area that's been preserved as it had been during the war, and is, much to his amusement, called Hero's Quarter. Every time he visits, once every five years or so, he asks about the name and god, he's heard some bullshit. It's supposedly the area where the last stand took place. Oh no, it's the area where both the Feds and New Republic signed their peace treaty. It's the area where the the Chorus Republic was founded. All manner of stuff.Truth be told, Tucker had never actually visited the area until about a decade after the war for a commemoration ceremony, and mostly they'd been using an old military base ten miles away to do all that stuff. People just love stories. Tucker loves them too. There’s something fascinating about hearing about yourself and your friends from someone who wasn’t even born until over a century after you ‘died’, and whose knowledge had been filtered through history books and research documents and that one movie with the completely made up love interest (some cute generic blond chick) and the actor playing him with a complete lack of fantastic abs. (The less said about the Earth-made film where Tucker had been played by Generic White Dude #23 the better. He’d been so mad! There had been complaint letters written and that was how he knew he’d got old.)The bar is popular with locals, but a bit too small and old fashioned to be a hot spot. Most of the off-world researchers don’t even know it exists, but it gets a fair few students in search of a quieter night than the nightclubs in the centre of the city. There’s no vid-screens and the music is soft and unobtrusive. It’s definitely a place to drink more than anything else.Tucker looks around, squinting in the dim light until he spots him. He’s picked out a booth in the furthest, darkest corner of the bar, because some things never change, no matter how long you live, and one of those things is Samuel Ortez, aka Locus, aka god knows what right now, being a paranoid drama queen.Tucker heads over to the bar first and orders himself a beer, then slopes over to the booth and slides into the seat opposite Sam. He’s wearing civvies, like Tucker is, but he’s a bit more put together with a shirt and tie and black slacks, where Tucker has just gone for jeans and a t-shirt and a belt that lets him hide the sword at the small of his back. Sam has his on him somewhere too, Tucker would bet on it. It can be tricky hiding the swords now that armour isn’t a thing (it’s all energy fields and implant bullshit these days) and Tucker had ditched the armour once all of the ‘thanks for your service’ had changed to ‘oh hey, are you doing historical re-enactment?’ Ugh.“You’re late,” Sam says, giving him a cool, steady look.Tucker rolls his eyes. “Oh right, sorry about that. Why, in that half hour, you could have died of old age.”Sam gives him a look. Sure, it might have terrified people when he was wearing his armour, but Tucker has been the recipient of those looks for several centuries now. He’s absolutely immune. He smirks and sips at his beer instead.“What’ve you been up to?” Tucker asks finally. It’s been five years. Five years already, and Tucker can’t remember what he did with the time. He wonders sometimes if this is how things will continue; watching people with their mayfly lives, losing hours, days, weeks to apathy, until a century feels like a day.“Travelling,” Sam says, and he’d leave it at that if Tucker didn’t clear his throat expectantly. “I took a few jobs. Bounties.”Tucker grimaces but Sam just gives him that steady, unflinching look again. He’d slipped into that sort of job like putting on an old, well-worn glove. And he was good at it, Tucker knew that. He’d hunted down the remnants of the forces working for Hargrove with brutal efficiency. And it wasn’t as though Tucker had settled down to live in the suburbs for the past centuries. Not since- Yeah, that still hurts, the loss of his friends, his family, a dull ache in his chest. He swallows it down and hides his discomfort behind his beer. He’s pretty sure that Sam sees through it, but he doesn’t say anything. Tucker appreciates it. “You?” Sam asks instead.“I dunno. Delivered a few shipments. Had a tropical holiday.” “You’re bored.” Sam says it blandly. It isn’t a question, just a statement of fact. Tucker clenches his jaw and turns away. He hates that Sam can read him and for a moment, fiercely misses his helmet, no matter how nice it had been to not have to wear it after the war. It’s true though. He can’t deny that. Escorting shipments is the work of a glorified delivery boy, and even tropical islands and cocktails served in hollowed-out pineapples lose their appeal when there’s no-one to share it with. And there hasn’t been anyone to share it with for a long time. One night stands are fine, but anything longer… what’s the point when you’re gonna outlive them? He can’t go through that again.“You sticking around for the centenary?” he asks, voice tight and aggressive in lieu of responding.Sam frowns, brows drawing together and making the distinctive scar on his face crease. It’s faded since the first time Tucker saw his face. Maybe in another century it’ll be gone altogether. He sort of wonders why he hasn’t had it removed; there’s some amazing treatments out there, but he still has that ugly spreading scar along his stomach where Felix had stabbed him. He can’t quite bring himself to erase the evidence, the proof that it was real, it happened. They’d mattered.“It isn’t my place,” Sam says. “I was the enemy.”“And none of the people here will have a fucking clue. They’ll just think you’re some tourist. And I heard they throw a hell of a party.” “Last time I tried to attend, you protested. Vehemently.” Sam says it in the same calm tone, but there’s an undercurrent to it. Curiosity maybe. Anger. It’s hard to tell. Tucker scrutinises his face for a moment before slumping back in his seat.“I was pissed off,” he says. “It had been, what, fifty years? And I was-“ Grieving. “I wasn’t in a good headspace and you turned up with that fucking armour and-“There’s another wound on his ribs, a cauterised mark from where they’d fought. Locus… Sam, could have killed him then, but he hadn’t. Tucker isn’t sure if he resents that or not. He could have died while there were still people around to grieve him."That was before,” Tucker says, swallowing around the lump in his throat. Before he was alone. Before he watched the others age and get sick and finally die. Before they stopped being heroes and turned into legends that people taught classes about in Chorus History 101.“I will consider it,” Sam says. Tucker tries not to focus too much on the wash of relief that his acquiescence brings. It’s just… he doesn’t want to be alone.Tucker rubs his thumb against the condensation on his glass, smearing it clear. Sam is never the most talkative person. Not that Tucker found that surprising, but would it have killed the universe to land him with a companion in immortality who was a bit more chatty? “There is a conflict brewing in an outer system,” Sam says eventually, his gaze fixed on his own beer bottle. “I hear they might be hiring mercenaries. I might head there.”Tucker goes cold, hand tightening on the glass. “Because that went down so fucking well last time,” he says. Why does the surprise trickle like ice-water down his neck? God, why had he hoped for better? Sam stiffens, his eyes wide, and he shakes his head vehemently. “No. I- I researched it.” He leans forward, one hand splayed against the ragged table-top. “I have read every scrap of information. I have made contacts. This is different. Towns wanting protection against raiders and bandits. I swear it.”Tucker narrows his eyes, scrutinising his face. There’s something deeply earnest in Sam’s voice, edged with desperation, a need for Tucker to understand. Maybe, Tucker thinks, he isn’t the only one who needs this, needs that one person who understands. It’s hard though, when the last mercenary job led to the near genocide of a planet. How can someone ever come back from that?Tucker groans and drags a hand down over his face. “Christ, why couldn’t you have taken up accountancy?”It breaks the tension and Sam snorts, sitting back in his seat. “I am not sure either of us is cut out for quiet lives,” he says. He twists his fingers around the bottle, and Tucker had never taken him for a fidgeter but here’s the evidence. It’s weird to see him nervous. Sam looks up again, meeting Tucker’s gaze. “You could come with me.”Tucker stares, actually struck speechless and that is a damn hard thing to do. He’s been known to mouth off while bleeding out. This should not have that much of an effect on him. “What?” he manages to stammer after a minute.Sam looks away. “Never mind,” he says and swigs the last of his beer before standing up. “I should leave.”“Hey! I didn’t-“ Tucker reaches out to grab his sleeve, stopping him, although if Sam really wanted to leave, he could pull away easily. “Sit the fuck down,” Tucker says. To his surprise, Sam down, shuffling awkwardly back into the booth.“I shouldn’t have said anything.”“Fuck that,” Tucker replies. “You just surprised me, okay? What did you expect when last time you were a mercenary…” “I have been trying,” Sam says. “I am trying. No bounties without evidence of their guilt. No mercenary contracts where I cannot be sure that- that I am doing more good than harm.”He sounds so solemn, and god, Tucker wants to believe him. Does believe him. He’s kept tabs on him, is the thing, ever since Chorus. He’d been tough to track at first, but Tucker has learned what to look for, and since the man known as Locus should be long dead, he doesn’t need to hide so much. But the point is that he’s seen what Sam has been doing since he vanished at the broadcast tower. He’s seen him work and work hard. Seen him be meticulous when he takes bounties, to make sure that he’s not going after someone innocent. Seen the mystery donations of huge sums of money to various charities, all anonymous, with no expectations of gratitude. He’s pretty sure that Sam is the one who took out a few would-be assassins and people trying to destabilise Chorus’ government, thinking it would be ripe for further exploitation.And hell, it doesn’t make it right. Fuck, Tucker knows it doesn’t. You can’t overwrite genocide. Can’t weigh it up against any number of good deeds and say ‘hey, you’ve made it better. Have a cookie and a commemorative pin’. It doesn’t work that way. Maybe Tucker is just being selfish, wanting to believe that he’s not stuck for eternity with the same asshole merc that they’d fought on Chorus all those years ago. It’s not as though he has anyone else he can talk to about this. He wishes he had Wash’s blunt, unpolished thoughts, or Kimball’s reason, or Carolina to fucking kick his ass and tell him to stop being a moron.But they’re gone. Long gone. And Sam is the only person who isn’t going to act like he’s fucking crazy if he talks about the war on Chorus like he was there. So he lets out a slow breath and nods. “I know, man. It’s all we can fucking do.” They lapse into silence. It’s not entire comfortable, but it’s not awful either. Sam goes up to the bar and orders more drinks, while Tucker watches the group of tipsy students who settle at a table nearby. One woman has the same accent as Kimball, and has her arm wrapped around the waist of a pretty red-haired woman and it makes Tucker ache to see, until he has to turn away.Sam returns and sets down another beer. It’s about fifty-fifty at any of their meets, whether they get absolutely wasted or not. Tonight, apparently, it’s not. Tucker doesn’t mind. “Thanks man.”“Where will you head after this?” Sam asks.Tucker shrugs. he’s not really been thinking about it. “I dunno. Travel to some exotic colony. Maybe visit Sangheilios again. They know about me. There are people there.” He was tied in to their mystic bullshit, which had turned out to not be so bullshit.And there’s Junior’s family there. Tucker hasn’t seen them for a while. Kids and grandkids and great-grandkids by now. “That sounds like a good plan,” Sam says, with an approving nod. “I may visit the AI at the temple while I am here.”“You mean Santa?” Tucker says and he bursts into laughter at Sam’s grimace. He thinks that Caboose would enjoy the fact that he’s still causing Locus discomfort so long after the fact.“Yes,” Sam grinds out.“Great. I’ll come with you,” Tucker replies easily.Sam looks surprised. Tucker can see it in the widening of his eyes. But he doesn’t protest, just nods and looks thoughtfully down at his drink.It’s getting noisier, more people entering to celebrate the upcoming weekend. Tucker swears he hears Grif’s voice, sees a flash of Wash’s hair or Caboose’s laugh. Shit. He rakes a hand through his dreadlocks and wonders if Sam sometimes hears Felix’s voice. Wonders if he wants to.He leans over and touches Sam’s wrist. Sam startles and gives him a curious look. Tucker jerks a thumb towards the door. “Let’s get out of here.”Sam looks around and then nods. He pushes himself to his feet and Tucker follows. Their seats are almost immediately taken by another group.The cool night air hits them as soon as they leave and Tucker pulls his jacket closer around himself. There’s a fancy new tram system, but they wordlessly agree to walk, heading up to the city centre past bars from which thumping bass emanates, and wide shop fronts and pristine office buildings. It’s a far cry from the desolate place that Tucker had first visited. They reach Sam’s hotel; a small, slightly dingy place, barely one step up from a motel. Sam stands awkwardly by the door and rubs the bridge of his nose before looking back at Tucker. “Do you want to come in?”Tucker gapes, staring at him while his brain grinds to a halt for a moment. In all the time they’ve known each other, so many meetings over the years which have gone from outright confrontation, to wary tolerance, to an odd sort of companionship, they’ve still never been in each others space. He has no idea what to do with this change of script. It’s Locus who had caused untold damage, but it’s also Sam, who is the only one left. The only person Tucker has who isn’t going to fucking die on him.He sucks in a harsh breath, lets it out and then nods. “Yeah. Sure.”He thinks he sees a small smile on Sam’s face.Sam’s room matches the outside of the hotel. There’s a bed, a wardrobe, a bedside table and a single chair, none of which match. It’s clean and neat though which is better than some places Tucker’s slept in. He admits he’d half expected some kind of penthouse suite with hot tub and minibar and every conceivable luxury. Something to prove that this was someone who didn’t care, who could wallow in money and luxury and rub it in his face on the planet he’d nearly destroyed. It’s stupid, he realises that, and god knows Tucker has been living things up now that he has money. It still sort of surprises him that Sam chooses to stay here.There’s a bottle of vodka on the bedside table and Sam picks it up, giving Tucker a questioning glance. He hesitates a moment before nodding. He’s on his way to being comfortably buzzed. Might as well go the rest of the way. The vodka goes down warm and smooth, and apparently good alcohol is one thing Sam is willing to spend money on. Where Sam sits on the chair, Tucker perches on the bed, watching while Sam pours himself a glass. As he drinks, he reaches into the drawer and pulls out a data pad. He taps at it and then holds it out to Tucker.Tucker takes it and looks at what Sam has pulled up. It’s full of maps and reports, endless information about some colony world out further than Tucker has ever been, and their problem with frequent bandit attacks, human and alien. Tucker sighs and then hands it back. “I’m not doing this, Sam,” he says. “I’m not gonna be your Jiminy Cricket.” When Sam gives him a blank look, he elaborates. “Your conscience. I’m not going to be your conscience.”Sam’s expression closes off and for a moment Tucker thinks he’s done it, he’s fucked everything up and the next thing he sees of Sam is going to be a news report involving war crimes.But then his shoulders slump and he just looks so tired. “That wasn’t my intention.”“Then what was your intention?”“I thought…” Sam begins, before clearing his throat. Tucker can practically see him trying to jigsaw the words together in the right way. When he speaks, every word is deliberate. “It is a job for more than one person. I have some contacts, but none who I would trust to understand my decisions, or to handle the sword if something happens to me. But you… I know that you would know what to do. And that you wouldn’t put money over lives.”“Christ…” Tucker says, and he can’t quite stop staring. “That’s a lot to take in.”“Of course,” Sam agrees, a bit too quickly. “I wouldn’t expect you to make a quick decision. There offer is there.”Tucker nods and then flops back on the bed, staring up at the slightly water damaged ceiling. It isn’t the first job like this he’s taken on. He has skills man, and sometimes he gets itchy and can’t settle into a civilian life. But mostly it’s been accompanying transports, finding shit out, maybe suggesting to gangs very pointedly that they want to leave his neighbourhood and not come back. Not outright mercenary work. And if Sam is right about what he’s dug up, it would probably be doing some good. There’s plenty of outer colony worlds could do with protection from one thing or another.“I just… lemme think about it.”“I will.” A second later, Tucker feels the bed dip as Sam settles on it. Tucker turns his head to watch him as he loosens his tie and the first couple of buttons of his shirt, and Tucker is buzzed enough to admit that he finds it kind of hot. Not that he generally needs to be drunk to find things hot.Sam rests his hand back down on the bed, and it brushes against Tucker’s arm. That’s when it starts. Or maybe it’s just after that, when instead of pulling away, Tucker curls his fingers against Sam’s hand. His skin is very warm, and Tucker just stares for a moment at where his hand rests, his skin a couple of shades darker than Sam’s. He rubs his thumb against the man’s wrist then down to a calloused palm.It’s definitely started when Sam leans down, slowly, so slowly like he’s the one expecting Tucker to punch him for this, and presses their lips together. It’s awkward; Sam’s lips are tense and Tucker isn’t much better. They’re pieces that were never meant to fit together, but at the same time, Tucker can’t claim to be surprised.He raises his hands to curl into the front of Sam’s shirt and pulls him closer. Sam gives a shuddering gasp and finally he relaxes and softens, his hands coming to rest on the bed at either side of Tucker’s head.“Is this okay?” Sam asks when they finally part.“I’d’ve fucking punched you if it wasn’t,” Tucker replies. It earns him a smile, a genuine one, and another kiss that’s miles better than the first.They undress quickly, not talking, and Sam keeps shooting him these uncertain little glances. Tucker wonders vaguely how long it’s been for him, if he’s found someone, or had a one-night stand, or if he’s suffering humanity’s longest dry-spell.Once they’re both naked, he doesn’t do a whole lot more thinking. Sam’s body is solid and strong and a patchwork of scars, some new, some faded to silvery near-invisibility with time. It’s nothing Tucker hasn’t seen before. He’d find it weirder if Sam didn’t have any.Sam is careful, but there’s something desperate when they fuck. It’s been building between them for a long time, like they’re trying to shed decades of loneliness by drowning in each other here and now. They grip a little too tightly, kiss a little too hard, cling to each other, hot and sweat-slick until they’re finally spent.They lie there afterwards, pressed together on a too small bed. Tucker has sprawled out on his stomach, face pressed against the pillow, while Sam rests a hand against his back, stroking idly against his skin. It’s sort of soothing, makes it hard to think.He must drop off for a bit, because when he stirs again, Sam’s hair is damp from the shower and he’s brought water for Tucker. It’s more considerate than he would have expected. He drinks it slowly, stretching out beneath the covers. Sam stands there, awkward, as though Tucker hasn’t already seen him naked. As though they haven’t just had their hands over each other and fucked each other into incoherence.“You gonna stand there all night?” Tucker asks, grinning at him. “I mean, I’m not gonna object. It’s a nice sight.”Sam gives a soft snort of laughter but slides back into bed next to Tucker, although he keeps a deliberate space between them.“That was…” he begins.“Yeah, it was.” He’s not going down that route. He recognises it too well, the one where they start overanalysing things. That way lies madness and too many memories. Sam opens his mouth like he’s going to press it, but after a moment he nods and shifts to get more comfortable on the bed. “You are welcome to stay the night.”“I’d hope so,” Tucker says. “Not going anywhere until i’ve slept.” It surprises himself, just a bit. Fucking is one thing, but sleeping here, unprotected? It feels more intimate somehow, and more dangerous, but all he can think of is how Sam had clung so tightly to him, had touched him with something akin to reverence. Tucker isn’t the only one who’s lonely, and that’s the foundation of it all, isn’t it? That trust that being the only one would be infinitely worse. It’s not the best of foundations, but Tucker’s spent a lot of time making the best of things. And now? Now he’s got a hotel room on Chorus for a week and nothing else. He hadn’t bothered to buy a return ticket. Hadn’t planned that far. Has nothing to plan for. It feels like fate. He wouldn’t have believed in that once, but you spend that much time around the Sangheili, and around the Reds and Blues, and you start to wonder. Sam’s half asleep by the time Tucker makes his decision. He stirs a little when Tucker elbows him in the side, squinting at him fuzzily and looking the least threatening that Tucker has ever seen him. “Hey, Sam,” he says. Sam looks at him with a dazed sort of curiosity. “This colony. The one with the bandits?” He takes a breath, releases it slowly. His stomach lurches. “Send me the information.”
10002347	Misunderstandings	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Kang Hyunggu \| Kino, Jung Wooseok, Adachi Yuto", "Fandom": "Pentagon (Korean Band)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by cottoncandyboys", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-02-28T00:00:00", "words": "3,785", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - High School, idk - Freeform", "Relationship": "Jung Wooseok/Kang Hyunggu \| Kino", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "Pentagon prompts", "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 had been the third time that week.The moment Yuto sighted Hyunggu, the boy was smiling and as he got closer he saw a book flying and Wooseok yelling and running after the shorter boy, Yuto had not expected any of that. Just as he approached them - or he thought he'd be able to do so -, they ran past him with such hurry that all the books and papers he held in hands were soon on the floor."Goddammit, Wooseok," he screeched and gathered all of his things quickly, shoving them inside his locker and running after his friends. He was quite unsure of where they had gone, Wooseok's long legs allowed him to run as far as he could in a short period of time, but Hyunggu was fast and he knew they were both even when it came to this.He ran, looking around and praying that Wooseok did not kill his other friend, despite looking all cute and adorable, Hyunggu had a devilish side and Yuto had only ever seen it coming out whenever the boy was in the same square meter as the giant one.It didn't take long until his eyes located them, after all, Wooseok was what? 2 meters tall or something close to that and Hyunggu had this habit of screaming when something wasn't of his liking and he looked extremely displeased over Wooseok carrying him on his shoulders like he was just a potato sack.It was his chance to catch them both before they ran away again, so Yuto rushed to catch up to them."I can't believe you guys are fighting again," he complained, delivering a friendly punch to Wooseok's left arm and earning a glare from Hyunggu. "It's just Wednesday.""He started it this time," Wooseok announced and Hyunggu grunted from his current position, he did look rather embarrassed than actually annoyed, he struggled to be freed but Wooseok had a tight grip around his waist. "I honestly didn't do anything.""AH, don't pretend you don't know what you did," Hyunggu finally said something, he pouted and Yuto would have called it cute but their current situation did not allow it. "Ain't you going to help me?"Wooseok spun once, Hyunggu did not look happy and Yuto had to hold back a laugh - something he was actually pretty used to already -, crossing his arms instead and glaring at Wooseok. "I don't really want to hear any explanations, but put him down, Wooseok. I don't think you'd like to be carried around like that against your will.""It's not like anybody can actually carry me on their shoulders, but I'll pretend I understand," Yuto thanked the heavens that his friend at least listened to him as if he was the voice of reason. "Now, if you excuse me, I'll take my leave, I have better things to do."What better things those were, Yuto had absolutely no idea since not even a few minutes ago Wooseok was bothering Hyunggu as if he had more than just enough time to spare. "I hope you'll trip and fall on the way."He wished Hyunggu had stopped there, but the short boy did not settle with just words and ran after Wooseok and kicked him behind his knees and Wooseok let out a screech before he was down on the ground and Yuto just had to audibly groan. Just when I thought they'd given up for the day.He was soon running after both again, Wooseok holding his sneakers in one hand and aiming at Hyunggu's head. "You know, I really like having you as my best friend," Hyunggu said as they lied down on the fluffy carpet of Yuto's bedroom. "But why does Wooseok tag along whenever we decide to study together?""Hey, I can hear you," Wooseok complained, eyes closed and long limbs sprawled on the floor, his left leg touching Hyunggu's thigh and the boy glared at him, even though he could not see it. "And ugh, I don't know if it's normal or not but I can also feel that you're burning holes on my face with your staring.""Well, I'm glad you can hear it so I don't need to repeat myself," Hyunggu groaned and Yuto sighed."Why can't you two just, I don't know, not fight?" Yuto asked, he should've known the reason already but he was so busy struggling to separate them or making sure they wouldn't try to kill each other that he never actually got to ask it. "Isn't it tiring?"Wooseok pushed himself up without notice, Hyunggu and Yuto just watched as he hovered over them, casting a shadow on their bodies. "It doesn't really matter, I know I'm not wanted here so I'm leaving."He did not wait for any reply and simply left the room, the door remained open as it was and the boys could hear Wooseok's voice saying something to Yuto's mother and then the sound of the front door closing shut."Do you think what I said was too much?" Hyunggu asked Yuto and all he could do was shrug, because he really did not know as well, he was so used to their verbal fights that he didn't expect Wooseok to just exit the place, he was usually stubborn and stayed just to piss Hyunggu off."Maybe it was the venom in your tone?" Yuto tried to think of something, he told that more to himself than to Hyunggu but his friend did not seem to like it."Did you just call me a snake?" he questioned, already on his feet with his brows furrowed and hands on his hips, Yuto got up as well, he did not want to have a conversation in that position."Uh? No?" he looked at Hyunggu, confused. "Why would I do that?"It did not look like his friend accepted it and, instead, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and sat down on the edge of Yuto's bed. "It felt like it," Hyunggu ran a hand through his dark hair and threw his body down on the mattress, Yuto decided to remain silent and see if he was going to say anything else."Sorry," that caught him off guard, Yuto had not expected any kind of apology, especially since he didn't know what he was saying sorry for. When Hyunggu met Yuto's eyes he saw the confusion and sighed. "Like, you know, for always being petty like this? I'm not usually so mean but I just can't help it? There's this little something about Wooseok that just bothers me quite a lot and the words are just out before I notice.""But why does he bother you?" Yuto pushed it further, taking a seat beside Hyunggu and poking his sides. "It's not like he did anything to you.""You're right," he finally agreed after a while. "I should probably start practicing on keeping my mouth shut."The situation was not something Yuto was actually used to, he didn't know what to say, so when the silence got too awkward, he patted Hyunggu's hair and hoped it was enough to show his friend that he understood and that he would try to help him, somehow. The next day at school could not have been worse, Yuto could not pinpoint what exactly was weird, the fact that when he saw both his friends, they were not at each other's throats, the fact that they did not glare at each other or maybe the simple fact that the moment he approached both, they just walked to different directions and he was left in a tightrope, he didn't know who he should follow because they were both his friends and choosing was not and option for him.Yuto sighed and leaned against his locker, hands coming up to his face and he rubbed at his eyes. "Why is this happening?""Hey," a voice said from his side and it was Hyunggu - Yuto was quite certain his friend had gone away while he was mourning over the whole situation. "Are you fine?""I think so," he replied, another sigh leaving his lips and Hyunggu tilted his head, his facial expression showing that he clearly did not believe Yuto. "I think I'm just tired.""Good thing that it's already Friday then," Hyunggu gave his hand a light pat and remained quiet. "I have to go, see you around."Well, that was the most awkward exchange of words they've ever had - and although Yuto is really bad with words, he'd never felt this kind of atmosphere between them even when he didn't know or have anything to say to Hyunggu.If his day couldn't be worse, Yuto saw Wooseok quickly coming towards his general direction five minutes before classes were supposed to begin. He still gave off the aura from the previous day and it felt even more awkward because despite looking like that - that meaning slightly scary as if he was constantly mad at something -, Wooseok was a pretty gentle person, well, of course with the exception of Hyunggu, Wooseok was anything but nice to him."Hello, Wooseok," Yuto was the first one to greet this time, he was in the same position he was before Hyunggu passed by and Wooseok was taken by surprise - not sure of what because Yuto could feel that Wooseok knew where he was going and why."Sorry," he said instead of greeting him back and, once again, Yuto was not sure of why he was receiving sorry's from his friends. He tilted his head and Wooseok kept his gaze on him."What for?" Yuto feigned innocence but, at the same time, he was curious, there really wasn't anything for him to apologize, as far as he knew, Wooseok didn't do anything wrong.The tall boy rubbed the back of his neck and fumbled with his hands. "I don't know, for just leaving abruptly yesterday. Uh, I have to go now."And, just like Hyunggu, Wooseok left without another word and Yuto was even more dumbfounded than he was before. He shook his head, too much going on on his mind at the same time and the bell rang the moment he closed his locker, so he did the only reasonable thing, put on his backpack and walked towards his first period class. It was incredibly uncomfortable.Yuto had asked both his friends to go out with him to get some coffee and cake somewhere and he was stuck in between them. They did not exchange insults, heck that, they didn't even look at each other and it was driving Yuto up a wall."This is all killing me," he breathed out and Wooseok looked at him the same time as Hyunggu, they looked at each other by accident and in less than a second their attention was back to Yuto."What?" Hyunggu asked, concerned."This," Yuto pointed at themselves in frustration. "It's so awkward, no death threats, no arguing."Wooseok, for some reason, let out a laugh and Yuto and Hyunggu turned to stare at him. "Weren't you the one who said you wanted us to stop fighting? Honestly, you should decide what you want us to do.""If this is some karmic thing you're pulling on me, I swear I'm going to kill you both," he pointed a finger but retreated, he was not about to waste his words on that, so he settled with sipping some of his americano in silence."I'm just behaving," Wooseok stated."And I'm just trying to be nicer," Hyunggu added."And none of it is being of any help, if behaving is keeping your mouth shut and being nicer is not saying anything at all, I'd rather have you two arguing till I want to pull all of my hair out of my head."Hyunggu laughed, hand covering his mouth and eyes crinkling. "That'd be rather rash, you'd look really ugly if you were bald."Yuto's hand automatically found its way to the bridge of his nose, he did not deserve to go through all that, he was a nice kid, never did anything wrong, he never skipped classes, he actually did his homeworks, ate all his vegetables and went to sleep when he was supposed to, why was he being punished like that? "That's not my point!"He got up, took a few bills from his pocket and threw at his friends. "I am leaving, please pay for my food and use the rest of my money to do something fun, by yourselves, I want to see you two being actual friends or I'll just have to not be friends with you anymore."Those words were not true, Yuto would be their friend despite they agreed to his proposal or not, but he'd rather have two best friends who got along well instead of two best friends who were enemies."Bye-bye," Hyunggu waved, he had the audacity, Yuto decided that it was not worth overthinking it and just waved back and left.Hopefully things would get better between Hyunggu and Wooseok, if Yuto had to be honest, at the beginning he was so sure they'd get along well, so well that he'd feel left out, not that he'd actually feel bothered by it, but he wished that he could see his two best friends being best friends too; although, Yuto's imagination went further than being just being best friends, Wooseok was an avid awful jokes teller and Hyunggu was amused by pretty much anything, he'd laugh and clap his hands and smile so brightly and Yuto had no idea how they just didn't get along since the moment he met them when he moved to South Korea due to his studies. They were, in his eyes, what people would call a match made in heaven.But they did not seem to agree to it.It's just too bad, he thought to himself, hands on his jeans pockets as he walked down the streets. Much to Yuto's dismay, first: he did not receive any update through the weekend on what had happened on Friday, he was a little pissed off, and second: as soon as he reached his locker he was surprised by two ridiculous boys jumping on him as if it was the best thing ever."Get out of the way," Hyunggu said as he pushed Wooseok away, Yuto sighed deeply, and he thought things would at least have improved."No," Wooseok shot back. "You get out.""Nobody's getting out," he interrupted the discussion and pushed both away from each other and away from him. "How was Friday?"Hyunggu was quick to raise a finger and fish for something inside his backpack. "Here's your money."Yuto stared at the hand extended in front of him. He looked from the bills to Hyunggu's face, from the bills to Wooseok and a frown found its place on his features. "Did you guys just ditch what I requested of you? Is that why I never got any words from you two?""It's really beautiful how he has so little trust on us," Hyunggu nodded and Wooseok agreed with his eyes closed and lips pulled into a tight line, arms crossed in front of his chest while he leaned his shoulder against the locker next to Yuto's.The scene unfolding right in front of Yuto's eyes caused him disbelief. "Am I missing something?"The first one to laugh was Wooseok and a few seconds later Hyunggu joined him and Yuto stared."No," Hyunggu answered, face suddenly serious. "We just stopped fighting for the sake of your sanity.""I see," Yuto pushed the door for his locker closed and quickly walked away from his friends. "Bye."After he turned his back to them, he heard Hyunggu screeching and Wooseok laughing at him and the sound of footsteps - and they were fighting again. Okay, so maybe it wasn't the wisest idea to just leave like that, but Yuto wasn't sure of how he should react or what he should do about them.The moment he found the boys again, they were not fighting but they weren't talking either, they were simply waiting for him and, even when he was already there, the silence was awkward and infuriating."Hey," Yuto greeted once both looked at him, he tried cracking a smile but his lips just twitched and went back to being a thin line. "I was wondering if you guys ever thought about being nice to each other like, really nice.""No," Hyunggu replied and shrugged, Yuto stared at him with a disapproving glare and shook his head then turned to Wooseok, who just shrugged back and was of no help at all."I just treat him the way he treats me," Wooseok answered when Yuto stared for too long. "You know like, I have nothing against Hyunggu, but he was never nice to me so I thought that there was no reason to be nice to him to begin with.""What the fuck," Hyunggu exclaimed and Yuto sighed, rubbing both hands on his face and groaning internally, he was sensing a new fight ensuing and he was not there for it. "I am always nice."The snort Wooseok let out was so loud that a student who was passing by turned to search for the unknown sound and left confused. "Are you kidding me? The moment we met you were already being a fucking ass to me, I'm just giving it back to you.""Let's go outside, boys," Yuto took hold of their arms into a tight grip and pulled them to somewhere else less crowded despite the protests, hopes high that they would not start arguing like usual since it looked like they were about to come into an agreement and offer peace - or not, but it was closer than they've ever been. "Now, keep talking and no cursing, no screaming and I don't wanna hear any sarcasm in your tones or you'll never get along with each other.""What if I don't want t-" Yuto glared at Hyunggu, eyebrows knitted and mouth pressed so hard that his lips were a shade lighter. "Yes, sir."The mediator pointed at the bench near them and Wooseok and Hyunggu did as they were supposed to and sat down side by side, not exchanging glances."Now, please, Hyunggu, explain why you were being rude to Wooseok since you guys met," Yuto started, more as a command than a request and Hyunggu gulped, hands finding its way to rest at his knees."I don't like tall people," he blurted out. "At least not at first, I always end up sounding rude because I'm salty over not being as tall as I wanted to. Usually, the person is nice to me and we end up friends, like Yuto and I, but Wooseok just ended up being straight up rude and I did not like it despite the fact that I was rude first.""Did you expect me to just ignore the fact that you glared at me and made rude remarks?" Wooseok threw his hands up in disbelief. The serious nod he received from Hyunggu was not the expected and he made a face at it. "You're ridiculous.""Yes," Hyunggu yelled and threw his backpack on the floor. "I'm ridiculous, I'm sorry but I just can't help it."Wooseok covered his mouth with his hands, watching as Hyunggu threw a fit on his own, Yuto watched the exchange from where he stood, not daring to interrupt, the whole conversation was starting to get interesting."Are you laughing?" Hyunggu inquired in incredulity. "At me?"That didn't make Wooseok laugh less, Yuto started to wonder if there was something he was missing, but apparently Hyunggu was not feeling as amused as Wooseok, seeing that he had his arms crossed in front of his chest along with a look of irritation as clear as water, so Yuto wasn't the only one lost in the situation."You're so cute," Wooseok wiped a fake tear from the corner of his eyes. "Are you seriously telling me that you were rude to me for no reason at all and then were hurt because I reciprocated it?"A hand was raised and Wooseok stopped speaking when he noticed it, Yuto neared them and rested a hand on Hyunggu's shoulder. "Why don't you guys just fucking date and stop being like this?"Disbelief crossed Hyunggu's eyes again and he gaped at the suggestion. "You said no cursing. And are you crazy? What gives you the idea that I'd date a tower?"Yuto raised his hand again and pointed a finger at them, as rude as it might be, he was done with all the bullshit. "I am serious okay, I'm honestly questioning why I am even offering this but Hyunggu, please, Wooseok is the only one who can deal with the sass and shade you throw at everyone. You talk more to him than to me because you guys are always arguing over the most stupid things, if you ever sat down properly and talked like two civilized human beings, you'd see that you have more in common than you do with me.""Okay," Wooseok smiled and Hyunggu kicked his shin. "I mean, I did say you were cute, it was not just about your demeanor."Hyunggu remained silent, he placed a hand under his chin and tried to show his friend that he was actually thinking about it. "I think it wouldn't hurt that much," he finally replied, Yuto did a little dance of victory inside his mind. "But i don't want to just go and date him, let's go out for coffee at the end of this week. I need to sort out my thoughts and depending on how it goes, I'll consider it.""Fair enough," Wooseok agreed and Yuto was amazed at how easy it was to solve the whole problem. "We can use the money Yuto gave us.""If anything goes wrong at least we didn't waste our own money," Hyunggu reasoned with Wooseok and Yuto was internally regretting what he had just done, but at least it looked like they'd get along well - way too much for his liking, but he let it be for the time being, anything was better than daily fights. The very next week, Yuto was once again left without news during the entirety of the weekend, left to guess how their 'date' went on Friday.When he saw Hyunggu and Wooseok waiting for him in front of his locker with shy smiles on their faces and a light atmosphere around them that Yuto could feel from afar, he already knew the answers.
10046600	Second Chances	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Original Metahuman Character(s), Barry Allen, Iris West, Joe West, Caitlin Snow, Cisco Ramon, Harrison Wells \| Eobard Thawne, Eddie Thawne, Linda Park, David Singh", "Fandom": "The Flash (TV 2014)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by superherofan95", "chapters": "19/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-02T00:00:00", "words": "88,813", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Barry Allen/Original Character(s), Eddie Thawne/Iris West", "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 }	Life has its moments where it can bring a gift or bring a curse. Sometimes a gift can be a curse. Sometimes a curse can be a gift. Either way, they change our lives. Mine began a little over a year ago. That night was supposed to be a triumphant victory in the field of science for S.T.A.R. Labs. Instead of changing history for the better, it changed the lives of many people.Dr. Harrison Wells was the lead scientist at S.T.A.R. Labs. He had a vision to change everything in the world of physics, health, biology, chemistry, and evolution. He created the particle accelerator to make this vision of his into a reality. Wells hosted a press conference to turn the particle accelerator on. It was a huge success. Well, at first it was. Then something happened. No one knows the exact cause, but something in the accelerator had malfunctioned. The malfunction resulted in an explosion that killed seventeen people.The apartment I live in is relatively close to S.T.A.R. Labs and I could see the explosion from my unit. It released something. I’m not quite sure what it was or how it happened, but it changed me. It might have changed others, too. My neighbor, Thalia Neilson, found me unconscious on the floor when she got home from work. She heard about the blast and wanted to make sure I was okay.There wasn’t any serious damage apart from a nasty bruise from falling. Then a few days later, that’s when the weird started to happen. I started to hear voices. People were talking, but their mouths weren’t moving. I thought I was going crazy at first. I couldn’t explain what was happening to me.Over time I began to realize the voices I kept hearing were people’s thoughts. At first it was extremely overwhelming. I would get frequent headaches that would last for hours or sometimes all day. There were times that the headaches were so painful I got sick. Once I understood exactly what was going on, I tried really hard to train myself. I forced myself to focus on one sound to listen to and eventually the white noise of so many voices became background noise. Even a majority of the painful headaches went away. For now, usually the headaches happen when I’m around too many people. Rock concerts and sports games for instance.I’m not the only one, though. There are others out there like me. There’s a guy out there who can control fire, some can fly, another can change his appearance, and the most famous one is a guy who can run impossibly fast. Central City’s calling him the Flash. I found out about these other people with abilities through a blog run by a woman named Iris West. She posted quite a bit ever since the explosion and it’s actually interesting to read. She posted a few stories about him and how she’s been saved by him a few times. In short, she sees him more as a hero than some guy who is easily capable of robbing banks.I guess a nice thing to know is that I’m not the only freak out there. I don’t know if I will ever meet others out there, but at least I know I’m not alone. For now I keep my ability a secret to myself. If someone found out, I could be captured by the military and they’ll force me to use my ability for interrogation, or some lab facility would experiment on me. Hell, even some guy could be rounding us up to create an army for his personal use. Maybe the world would be afraid of us and ship us off to a facility for super powered people. Oh wait, that’s basically a juiced up version of prison. Never mind. Either way, I don’t want to end up being forced to do something. I’d rather keep my abilities hidden than the world being afraid of me. The music was cranked up to a volume where it wouldn’t disturb the other tenants, but still help block out everyone’s thoughts. My mind reading ability made life a little difficult. I would hear secrets no one wants to hear; a partner being unfaithful, accidental pregnancies, planning for divorce, or someone planning to commit a crime or already did. Then there are the thoughts of the people who can’t keep it in their pants. Most of the time it was men. They’d have day dreams of doing it with some random chick walking by and start panting like a dog in heat. It’s absolutely pathetic, but it’s also human nature. We can’t control it.Ever since I first got my abilities, it’s made my love life nonexistent. I found out the guy I was dating was cheating on me. I caught him in act and ended the relationship on the spot in front of his fuck buddy. Obviously a blond with fake boobs, large ass, slathered in makeup, and her fake tan made her look like an Oompa Loompa from the 1970’s Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. After that horrible experience, I’ve kept to myself. This ability can be a curse sometimes. Instead of feeling sorry for myself, I focused more on my artistic abilities of painting, drawing, sculpting, and photography along with piano, guitar, and the band I play in. We’re terrible with names. The best we’ve got so far is Beefy Answer of the Haunted Library and Clan of the Something Cave. We have a horrible habit of changing names.I think we sound alright for a small group. We usually do covers of songs of other bands, but we write our own material as well. We’ve had a few gigs every now and then within Central City and it hasn’t been too bad. There was one gig we had where everyone looked pissed off at us and gave me the death glare. That was before I had my abilities. Thinking about it now, I wonder why they acted like they had sticks shoved up their assholes. I could’ve been able to read their thoughts to understand why they acted like such pricks.As my brush moved across the canvas my mind wandered off. It tended to happen whenever I was painting or drawing. Unfortunately that was when my mental barrier was down and I could hear everything. The smell of the paint reached my nose. It was getting to my head a little since I’ve been painting for a while.The painting was acrylic and vibrant colored. Working with paint was one of my personal favorite mediums. I liked the texture of the paint and mixing the colors. Sometimes it took a bit to get the right shade of color, but only if you know how much of one color to mix with the other then it wouldn’t take so long. The painting I was currently working on was of a mountain landscape that overlooked crystal blue lake.It was a lovely painting. At least I thought it looked nice. I would have to let art galleries here in Central City be the judge of that. Lately, though, their judgment in art has been quite poor. They’ve chosen simple designs and call it art. I’ve seen one painting where the canvas was painted in three different colors all divided up in thirds and it was still ‘art’. It looked like the friggin’ flag of Italy. It pisses me off.I pulled myself out of my work and studied it. Doesn’t look to bad. Then again, biased opinion. I gathered my brushes and headed to the sink and rinsed them off. My hands were smeared with paint from hours of working. My ratty clothes I paint in were also smeared with paint. I don’t think there has ever been a time where I painted something and didn’t make myself a huge mess.Once my hands were rinsed off and my mess was cleaned up, I flopped on the couch lazily. My phone buzzed, alerting me that I had a text message. Wonder who that could be? I sarcastically thought. Seventy-five percent of my text messages came from my best friend Natalie Winters. The other twenty-five percent came from my band mates Todd, Chloe, Adam, and Matt. Chloe and Matt were high school sweethearts while Todd met his girlfriend in college. Adam and I dated way back in high school, but broke up when he went to Julliard for percussion and I went to Central City University. He and I are still pretty good friends.I met Natalie while I was in college. She was my roommate all four years and she has a degree in theater performance. I found out quickly that Natalie was a party animal. And that she had difficulties trying to find the right guy. When we shared an apartment together she had guys over several times, but she also respected my privacy when I was dating Grant the Cheater. She helped me the most when I caught him. She even offered to kidnap him and cut off his junk so he couldn’t reproduce. It was an extremely tempting offer, but I declined.I checked my phone and found a text from Natalie. Surprise, surprise. You, me, clubbing tonight. Not buts. We need to get you a man in your life. I let out a groan. I hated going to clubs. The music was too loud, loo many desperate people, and the guys were a little too grabby. On a regular level that’s what they were like. On my level with the mind reading, it was much worse. Blaaaaaaah I don’t want to be social with other people. I’d rather be an antisocial introvert and stay home to binge watch Harry Potter stead of watching people awkwardly grind their bodies against each other on the dance floor to horrible music. NU-UH I WILL ACCIO YOUR ASS TO MY SIDE RIGHT NOW! You chickened out the last few times. You’re right outside the door, aren’t you? Yes :) I hate you… No you don’t, you love me. Give me a bit to open the door. There was no way to argue with Nat. She was headstrong and always argued until she was right. I heaved myself off the couch and headed to the front door. I looked through the peephole and found Nat standing there.“Nat, I’m not liking this idea.” I replied and opened the door.“Too bad.” Nat stood there with a smile and was holding a garment bag and her purse. I moved aside and let her in. “Tonight is going to be fun.”“The only fun thing about tonight is the drinking involved.” I replied.“Riley, you’re such a Debbie Downer.” Nat laughed and draped the garment bag on my couch. I closed the door behind her.“No, I’m just not a party animal like you.” I folded my arms across my chest. “God, how did we survive living with each other in college?”“Because I spent my time going out to parties and drinking.” She answered. “I felt too cramped inside.” I shifted a little. After college Nat left to head to Metropolis for acting opportunities. That plan didn’t exactly go well. She came back to Central City and moved in with her brother Ben. I owed it to her, though. I sucked up the inner pain of being forced to go out.“So where are we going tonight?” I asked.“We’re going to the Valiant.” She replied, unzipping the bag and pulled out a red dress. Nat does like to make herself presentable. Valiant was one of the biggest night clubs in Central City, which meant more people and thoughts I’d be reading. In general I don’t do well in big crowds. They make me very uncomfortable. I was about to protest, but then I kept my mouth shut. She wanted to go out and have fun and I haven’t done that much with her lately.“Yay.” I gave a weak smile, but Nat didn’t notice.“We are going to find you a man tonight, Riley.” Nat strode around the apartment with purpose. “We are going to be hot, we are going to be sexy, and we’re going to be too damn irresistible.” I let out a mental moan of horror at Nat’s words. This was going to be a disaster. “Come on, let’s go make you look slutty!” She grabbed my hand and her dress then dragged me to my room.“I don’t have anything slutty.” I replied as we hurried to my room. “Besides, it’s five and they don’t open until eight.”“Girl, we gonna need the time to make you look hot.” She looked narrowly at me. Oh great. We reached my room and Nat laid her dress on my bed. She then skipped to my closet and browsed through it expertly. I lounged on my bed, waiting for my demise. “My God, you need to upgrade your fancy clothes.”“I’m sorry.” I shrugged. “I have the wage of a starving artist who makes money on the side by playing in a band that is super shitty.”“Oh shut up, your band sounds awesome. You guys just need a better name.” Nat continued her search through my closet. “Aha! I found one!”“Which one?” I asked as I sat u. She pulled it out and held it up. It was a black dress that had thick shoulder straps that thinned in the back, held together by a rhinestone ring. It showed more of the back than the front where a V-neck cut exposed the upper chest area; not my boobs, but my collar bones. It was actually more classy and elegant than Nat’s standards. I only wore it for special occasions like if my art was going to be featured at a gallery. Too bad that didn’t happen often.“You do realize that’s meant to be classier than slutty, right?” I raised a brow. “It’s gorgeous! It brings out your hair color quite nicely, even if it’s short.”“Oi, don’t diss the hair. Just means less work for me to do in the morning.” I ran my hand through my auburn hair that reached along my jaw.“We’re curling your hair, too. You’ll look super cute!” She squealed with excitement.“If you do makeup, don’t go overboard.” I headed to my dresser to grab the necessary undergarments. “I don’t want to look like a stripper or a clown. Or a stripper clown.” I shuddered a little at the thought.“Just relax and go shower.” Nat shooed me away. I grabbed my dress from her, headed into the bathroom, stripped down, and took a quick shower. I scrubbed myself down, shaved, and once I got out I used moisturizer to make my skin soft. I wrapped a towel around me and proceeded to blow dry my hair. After ten minutes I finished drying off and then got dressed.When I walked back to my room, Nat was in her red dress she brought over. It was a little too short and had too much of a plunging neckline, but Nat was Nat and could pull anything off. She had the model body every woman desired. She was athletically fit, curvy, piercing blue eyes, chocolate brown hair, and boobs she was super proud to show off, hence her cleavage enhancing wardrobe. How we clicked as roommates is something I never fully understood.Nat’s mouth dropped when I walked in. “Oh, my God, you look amazing.” She let out a squeal.“Can you zip me up? I’m not coordinated enough to do it by myself.” Nat walked up behind me and zipped my dress up.“Hair and makeup.” She said, turning me around and guided me to my bed. She dug around in her bag and pulled out a case of makeup. Good God she comes prepared.“No hooker, clown, raccoon eyes look, okay? I’m not selling myself out.”“Relax.” She had me sit down. “I’m just going to curl your hair and use a purple eye shadow for a smoky look. You’ll be fine.” She plugged in a curling iron and set it aside to proceed on my makeup. “You should really wear a little makeup in your life, Riley.”“Too much of a hassle.” I replied with a shrug. “It makes my face itchy as well.” Nat grabbed the deep purple eye shadow from her bag and opened it up.“Close your eyes.” Nat instructed. I did as I was told. “You’re just not used to it. That’s why your face gets all itchy from it.” I felt her beginning to apply the color on with the brush. She was gentle and careful. Her years of wearing makeup made the routine of putting it on very quick. “I’m not going to put blush on because you look fine without it.” Within a few minutes she was done. “Now we need a bit of eyeliner.” I opened my eyes as she rummaged through her bag again.“Good God, did you bring everything?” I widened my eyes.“A girl has a big purse, so she fills it with makeup.” Nat shrugged, pulling out black eyeliner. “And then there’s you.” She let out a small chuckle. “You and your messenger bags filled with sketch books, pencils, and cameras.”“Those are my tools for beauty.” I replied with a smile.“And you’re damn good with them.” She smiled back. “Now look up.” I did as she applied a bit of the eyeliner on both eyes. “There, now we’re half way done. All we have to do is your hair.”“Now that I can do myself.” I took my curling iron and walked over to the mirror. “You go finish getting ready.” I set to work on my hair putting in small curls and adjusted them so my hair came out a bit wavy. It was a bit tedious, but I got the job done. Nat had finished her makeup that really brought out her eyes. She decided her hair was wavy enough, but she stuck pins in to hold it up in a messy bun. There were a few strands that hung down her face, but it suited her. Nat looked at me with wide eyes.“Oh, my God.” She breathed.“What?” I panicked. “Does it look dumb?” This is why I hated dressing up.“No. God no, Riley.” She was still speechless. “You…you look very sexy. That is an honest compliment. You just need a little a little lip gloss.” She handed me a light tone and I put it on. “Have you looked at yourself? I mean really looked at yourself?”I started long and hard at my reflection. I was shocked at the person staring back at me. Nat somehow enhanced every natural feature. She didn’t do anything super drastic, but she really brought out my brown eyes. The dress I was wearing hugged curves that normally would be nonexistent due to my regular casual tomboyish attire. My hair hung around my face in waves, lightly caressing my cheekbones.“Oh, my God.” I gapped at myself. “What did you do?”“I enhanced your natural features.” She replied. “If a guy doesn’t approach you tonight, then they’re crazy.” If a guy knew what I could do, he definitely wouldn’t approach me. When we slipped our shoes on and pulled our jackets on, we were ready to go. My neighbor Thalia was coming home. She was wearing her waitress uniform at a diner that was located near the Central City Police Station. She was short, petite, had short blond hair, blue eyes, and a shy, but bubbly personality.“Going out?” She greeted with a smile.“Hell yes we are!” Nat exclaimed.“Help me.” I mouthed, mimicking a tightening noose around my neck. Thalia laughed. She knew how thrilled I was about clubbing. I locked the door to my apartment and stuck my keys in my pocket.“You look amazing, Riley.” Thalia complimented as she unlocked her apartment. “Be careful, okay?” She tended to worry just like my mom.“We’re cabbing.” I assured her.“Good, now go have fun.”“G’nite.” I waved as we headed out.“She seems very…” Nat spoke as we were outside, trying to hail a cab. “…introverted.”“She works as a waitress, Nat.” I defended Thalia. “They have a small wage and are expected to make up the rest of their salary in tips. She doesn’t go out a lot because she’s working her ass off to pay rent and have food.”“I know what being a waiter is like.” Nat retorted. “I was one when I was seventeen.”“Yeah? How long did that last?” I raised my brows.“About two weeks.” She replied meekly. “Or one. But that’s only because my boss caught me having sex in the closet with a coworker named Chuck.” Her face briefly went off into fantasy land and unfortunately I could see it. “Ah, Chuck. He was damn fine with that six-pack and-““Nat, I don’t need the mental picture!” I snapped her out of it. She pulled out of her fantasy and the torture stopped. I hate living like this.“Right.” She flushed with some remorse and embarrassment. “I’m opening up old wounds with you.”“Exactly, so your whole description of your sexual encounters don’t really help.” I felt a pain in my chest as the memory of catching Grant in the act. “But Grant was six months ago. I’m done with him and I just need to move on.”“Are you sure you want to go?” Did I detect concern in her voice about clubbing? This wasn’t like Nat.“We’re standing out on the sidewalk in dresses and makeup. It’s a little too late to back out now, especially since you were so adamant on going out.” I replied. Nat was silent for a bit.“I’m sorry.” She apologized. “Hug it out?” At first I was reluctant, but then we embraced in a sisterly hug. She was there to support me and help me recover from the incident when no one else did. I owe it to her that much. We broke away and a cab pulled up. Finally. We climbed in the back and I let out a sigh.“Where to, ladies?” The driver asked. He had a bit of a scruffy appearance; bit of a five o’ clock shadow, dark eyes, and his greasy dark brown hair was mostly hidden by a hat. There was a fain scent of cigarette smoke lingering in the fabric of the seats.“Valiant Night Club.” Nat answered. I closed the cab door and buckled in.Oh, my God, they look hot! Especially the brunette one, the driver thought. I’d like to take her home tonight and show her a good time at the club. He sat up a little straighter, every so often looking in the rearview mirror as he drove to the club. I rolled my eyes in disgust and looked out the window. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- As I sat in the parking lot of the art supply store, I fished my phone out of my pocket. I unlocked it and went to my contacts, scrolling all the way to Grant. I hesitated a little, but then dialed his number and waited. I waited and waited as the phone rang, but he never picked up. “This is Grant,” The voicemail recording played. “Sorry I’m unable to take your call. If you leave a message I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.” I hung up and let out a frustrated sigh. Something was up. Ever since I got my abilities, I noticed that Grant’s been acting weird. Maybe he was freaked out from the S.T.A.R. Labs explosion and how close it was to my apartment. I could understand if that was the case. If it were him in my shoes, I would be freaking out if I almost lost Grant. Grant’s been different, though. I try to not go through his mind, but it happens. He’s been hiding something. He keeps going out, claiming that he’s hanging with friends or doing stuff for work at Tech Village. There’s some blond girl that keeps appearing in his mind. It’s not his sister, Grant’s an only child. I think he’s cheating on me. I hate thinking that’s what the case is, but I lay wide awake at night and can’t sleep from it. I knew eventually I would have to confront him about it. Unfortunately, today was that day. It was sort of convenient that I was out getting art supplies. Grant claimed that he had a computer run with a client to go to and that he was going to a bar afterwards with friends to unwind so that he wasn’t going to be home at all. Reluctantly, I drove to Grant’s apartment. About six months into our relationship, Grant gave me a spare key to get into his apartment so I could come in whenever I wanted. My stomach felt like a lead weight when I pulled into the parking lot. Grant’s black Tahoe was in the parking lot. My grip on the steering wheel tightened up and I began to shake. He lied. I parked and got out of my car, walking with caution into the building. With each step I took towards the elevator, there was an increasing feeling of dread in my chest. I called the elevator and stepped inside, pressing the button to the tenth floor. As the elevator pulled up, I could hear the thoughts of other residents. It sounded like a small brook in my head. Some were pleasant, others were boring, some were dark, and depressing, some were…uncomfortable. Then I heard Grant’s as I reached the tenth floor. My hands shook as I heard them and my eyes welled up with tears. Yes, oh, God, yes, He moaned in his mind. Fuck, she’s good! God, yes! My breath was hitched in my chest. It’s true. He was cheating on me. The doors slid open and I stepped out. I could see what Grant was thinking. He was laying on his back in his bed. A bed I slept in with him. There was a woman sitting on top of him and she rode him. Pleasure flowed through Grant with each thrust. I shook my head to clear my mind. I walked up to the door I was so familiar with. My hand trembled as I reached the knob. It jiggled a little, but it was locked. The key in my hand felt so heavy. The key slid into the lock and I turned the key, unlocking the door. I stepped inside and shut it behind me. I shut my eyes tight and took a deep breath, then opened them again. Clothes were thrown on the floor in the living room. I recognized the shirt I bought for Grant on his birthday last year. Next to it was a dress. As I walked to Grant’s bedroom, there was a trail of more clothing. “Oh, yes!” I heard Grant cry from behind the door. “Come on, Babe, come on!” Moans and groans of pleasure erupted from the door. “God, you’re so tight!” “Fuck!” The woman cried. “God, you feel good!” “Just like that.” Grant groaned. “Yeah, just like that. God, damn that feels amazing. You’re better than my girlfriend.” Their cries grew louder as they reached their climax. I couldn’t take it anymore. I went up to the door and barged in. The two of them groaned loudly as they finished. Grant suddenly sat up. The woman didn’t notice me yet. She let out soft moans and kissed Grant on his neck. My hands clenched into fists. “Babe, why’d you stop?” She asked in a purring voice. She followed Grant’s gaze and then her mouth dropped. “Oh,” She hastily pulled the sheets around her busty chest in embarrassment. “Riley,” Grant’s voice cracked. “What are you doing here?” “Don’t stop on my account. What the hell, Grant?” My voice cracked. “What in the actual fucking hell?” “I can explain.” He began. “Oh, please do.” I stared coldly at him. My eyes burned with impending tears. “Please explain why you would lie to me about meeting with a client and hanging out with friends at a bar, when instead you’re here fucking the brains out of some other woman.” “I…” Grant stammered. “You what? You screwed up? Yeah, you did. Big time.” I didn’t let him finish. “May I remind you how there was the chance that I could have died from a catastrophic explosion near my apartment a month and a half ago?” “Riley, I’m sorry.” “Sorry doesn’t even come close.” I felt tears of anger fall down my face. “I had a feeling something was up with you and turns out, I was right. I can’t do this anymore.” “What are you saying?” “You know damn well what I’m saying.” I replied. “It’s over, Grant. We’re done. Have fun fucking her.” I turned on my heel and walked out. “Riley!” He scrambled out of bed, pulling the blanket around his waist. “Riley, wait!” “I’m done, Grant!” I yelled. I tossed the key to his apartment on the counter when I reached the kitchen. “I can’t be in a relationship with you if you lie to me and sneak off to bang other women. That’s not how a relationship works.” Grant grabbed my hand, but I yanked it away. “Don’t touch me.” “Riley, please just give me another chance. I swear to you that I will make up for this.” He begged. He was begging. He was actually begging. I reached the door and turned around. “You can’t fix this, Grant.” I looked coldly at him. “You broke my trust. You betrayed me. It’s over.” I opened the door behind me. “If you leave, you’re not coming back.” Grant promptly spoke. “Not a problem.” I answered, stepping out and slamming the door behind me. I headed to the elevator and called it. When the doors slid open, I stepped inside and pushed the button for the ground floor. Thankfully, no one was in there with me. I was alone. I slid down to the floor and cried all the way down to the ground floor. This ability wasn’t a gift. It was a curse. It’s caused nothing but pain and trouble since the day of the accident. I hated it. “Riley.” Nat called my name. “Riley, earth to Riley!”“Huh? What?” I shook my head, clearing my thoughts.“We’re here.” Nat replied. “Are you sure you want to go?”“I’m sure.” I answered. We paid the fare and climbed out of the cab.“You seem off today.” Nat noted as we got in line to wait to get in. “Are you sick or something?”“I’m fine.” I assured her. A few guys gave Nat a wolf whistle and catcalls, but Nat acted like she didn’t hear them. For me, it was uncomfortable.“Maybe this was a bad idea to take you out so soon after the whole incident.” For once Nat actually looked worried.“I’m fine.” I shrugged it off. “Let’s just go.” After waiting for a little while, we headed inside and I was hit with a wall of sound, color, and thoughts. I could feel Nat’s gaze on me as I winced. “I forgot how loud club music is!” I hollered over the booming music. It somewhat distracted me, which was good. Ahead of us was the dance floor where people danced beneath bursts of color. Dance wasn’t exactly the best word to choose. A lot of them were grinding on each other. I shuddered. Another reason why I hated clubs. Other people “dancing” made me feel extremely uncomfortable.“If they wanted to have sex, they could just go into one of those rooms around here!” Nat noted the dance floor. The club was constructed from an old industrialized warehouse where there were plenty of rooms to go sneak off to. As soon as she said it, a couple broke away from the crowd and headed off. “Oh, my God, I can predict the future!” I put up the mental wall toblock out everyone’s thoughts. Nat grabbed my hand. “Let’s go dance!” I groaned inwardly, but followed as she dragged me to the floor.Nat found a somewhat clear area to dance at. I swayed to the beat of the music as Nat pretty much unleashed herself. I hate this, I hate this, I hate this.“Come on, party pooper! Lighten up!” She danced around me.“This is cruel and unusual punishment for me!” I replied.“Just a couple of songs and then you can go sulk off!” She promised. I sucked it up and continued my uncomfortable dancing. I’m not sure how to describe Nat’s dancing, but to sum it up as best as I can, she looked like an enchantress and gave guys around her sultry looks. A few replied by sandwiching between her and no space existed. I looked away and tried to find other things to focus on. I tried. I really, really tried to stay on the floor, but I couldn’t do it.“I’m going to get a drink!” I hollered to Nat.“Aww, why don’t you come join us?” She whined as she rolled her hips against the guy in front of her. Well, multitasking was one of Nat’s specialties. I shook my head.“I’m good! I’ll be at the bar!” I jabbed my thumb in the direction I was heading to. She nodded and went back to her dancing. I moved as quick as I could, avoiding people as I headed to the bar. Luckily not a whole lot of people were occupying it. I sat on a stool and wearily massaged my temples.“What can I get you?” A voice spoke. I looked up to find the bartender standing there. He was tall, fit, and very muscular.“Scotch on the rocks, please.” I replied.“Been here a while?” The bartender grabbed the ingredients.“Sort of.” I shrugged. “My friend forced me against my will to come here. I tried dancing, but that didn’t last long.”“So you’re already hitting the alcohol.” He laughed.“My friend’s the party animal.” I laughed a little. “I’m not even close to be on the edge of being called a party animal.” The bartender began mixing the drink and I watched in fascination. The muscles in his arms rippled with each movement.“Nothing wrong with that.” He gave a wistful smile. “More drinking for you.” His smile caught me off guard and the wall came down. She’s pretty cute for a nonparty animal. “So what’s your name?”“Riley Lewis.” I replied. The bartender finished making my drink.“A pleasure to meet you, Riley.” He set the drink in front of me and stuck a hand out. “I’m Tyler Mason.” I took his hand and shook it.“Nice to meet you.” I smiled. So far, so good. He’s actually pretty cute for a bartender. His eyes were a very striking blue and his dark hair was spiked up a bit. His grip was pretty firm, but gentle as we shook hands. The best way to describe him in my artistic abilities, he looked like he was sculpted from marble by the Greek gods. And his scent! My God, it was very intoxicating!“What do you do for a living?” Tyler asked with interest.“I’m an artist.” I explained. “I mostly do paintings and photography. If I’m not doing that, then I play guitar and piano in a band.” I took a sip of the scotch, letting the alcohol burn down my throat. Tyler let out a low whistle.“Damn, girl.” He was taken by surprise. “That’s impressive. Maybe one of these days I could model for you in a painting. Besides bartending I have a model career.”“Really?” I wasn’t convinced.“Yeah, I’ve done some work for some magazine companies around here.” Just lie. Make it a really good lie. Make it convincing.“Maybe one of these days.” I shrugged. Oh, who am I kidding? Hell no. Is there anyone in this city who doesn’t want to get into a woman’s pants?“Don’t go anywhere. I’ve got another customer to take care of.” He quickly said before tending to a gentleman who recently approached the counter. I turned my back and leaned against the counter as I drank, watching the people before me. My mind wandered as I looked for Nat. It wasn’t that hard because she a few guys around her and she was practically rubbing up against them. I sighed in dismay.There were a few guys out there who sort of perked an interest, but after hearing their thoughts it was a complete waste of time. Nat eventually danced over to me, breathing hard from all of the dancing.“Come dance with me, Riley!” She hollered over the music. “It’s so much fun! I even met a guy that seemed interested in you when I was talking about you!” “Was that before or after the grinding on each other part?” I asked. Nat stopped dancing and her face fell.“Oh….” She realized. “After.”“Right.” I grimaced. “I’m pretty sure he was just agreeing and looking at your boobs.”“Well, shit! I was hoping to hook you guys up!” She whined with disappointment. I shrugged it off.“Oh well.” I continued drinking my scotch.“Is that scotch?” She asked. I nodded. “I’m going to need something stronger than that.” She sat down on a stool. “Bartender!” Tyler walked over, his face lit up at the sight of Nat.“What can I get you?” He flashed a smile.“The strongest thing you’ve got.” Nat gave him a dazzling smile back.“I’ve got just the drink for you.” He headed off to his liquor storage. He pulled out a bottle of rum and a few other ingredients. As he mixed he would occasionally look over at us and smile. Hmm, which one to take home? The redhead’s got a nice personality and great taste, but the other one has a nice rack. Decisions, decisions. I mentally rolled my eyes. Friggin’ pig. As Tyler finished Nat’s drink he lit a match and topped it off of the drink. Instantly, the top of the beverage burst into flame and little sparks appeared.“Oh, my God!” Nat exclaimed. “That’s so cool! How’s it doing that?”“I call it,” Tyler dramatically showcased the flaming beverage. “The Goblet of Fire. The cinnamon burning is what creates the sparks and the rum on top is what is making the alcohol burn.” Nat watched the flames with a transfixed gaze. She pulled out her phone, took a pic of it, and then Tyler blew the flame out. Nat took a sip.“Oh, my God, this is delicious. How much do I owe you?” She asked.“It’s on the house. The same for you, Riley. No charge.” Well, at least that was nice of him. I finished my scotch and sulked around for a few hours. Well, this really sucks. Nat had a few more drinks and was a little more than tipsy. She had a pretty animated conversation with Tyler and I’m pretty sure she gave him her number.“Are you having fun?” Nat eventually found me again. “Yes.” I lied. “So much fun.” No, I hated being here.“Cut the shit, Riley.” Nat slurred a little. “I know you don’t actually like it here. I appreciate that you came. I just feel so bad that you don’t have anyone.” Yeah, she was a little hammered. “Nat, I think you’ve had plenty to drink and dance tonight.” I responded.“No, no, no, no I don’t want to go.” She slurred again.“Nope, you’re drunk and tuckered out. We need to go home.” I replied. I helped her up as she slid off of the stool. “Come on, let’s go back to the apartment.”“Are we going to do something fun?” She stumbled.“We’re going to go home, get cleaned up, and watch movies-““Are we going to have a sleepover?” Her eyes went wide. This always worked on a drunk Nat to cooperate.“Yes, we’re going to have a sleepover.” I gently pulled her along. “How many Goblet of Fires have you had tonight?”“Um…three? Four?”“Is she okay?” Tyler asked walking over to us.“She’s just drunk. How many did she have tonight?” I explained.“She had six.”“Well, she’s going to be hung over tomorrow. No water either?” Tyler shook his head. “She’ll definitely feel that in the morning.”“Does this mean you’re leaving?” He sounded a little sad.“She’s a mess and can barely stand.” I replied. “I’ve got to get her home or someone will take advantage of her.” Someone like you.“Oh.” He responded, a little flushed in the cheeks. There goes my plan. “Well, it was nice meeting you.”“Yeah, you, too.” I replied while heaving Nat out of the club. Tyler headed back to the bar as I awkwardly dragged Nat out. It was a relief to be out in fresh air. The deafening noise of music and thoughts subsided immediately.I hailed a cab and helped Nat inside, then climbed in next to her. Nat let out a moan that clearly meant she was not feeling well.“Too much partying?” The driver asked.“Yeah, she had too much for one night.” I replied.“I know what that’s like.” He chuckled once.“Don’t we all?” I gave a casual smile. The driver laughed again.“Where to, miss?”“324 North Glendale.” I replied. The driver took us back to the apartment building. The drive took fifteen minutes and during those fifteen minutes I kept a wary eye on Nat. Each bump for hard turn made me nervous that she would lose her contents all over the car. Luckily she didn’t. When we reached the building, I paid the fare and climbed out while awkwardly helping Nat in the process. As we approached the entrance, Nat stopped.“Riley?”“Hmm?”“I don’t feel so good.” She bent over a little. I quickly helped her over to a trash can and she leaned into it. I held her hair back and looked away as Nat vomited into the can.“Get it all out of there.” I patted her on the back. “It’s okay. Get it all out of you.” She heaved again as more contents spilled out. I pulled a napkin out of my bag and handed it to her. She gratefully took it and wiped her mouth. “Are you okay?” She nodded, still out of it and shaking.“Can we go inside?” She asked. I nodded, taking her in. I pressed the button for the elevator and we headed in once it reached our floor. Nat leaned against me as the elevator moved up to my floor. “You’re a good friend, Riley.” She weakly mumbled. I gently rubbed her back in a friendly and comforting manner.“We’re almost there.” Once we reached my floor, I slung Nat’s arm around me and let her use me for support again. I moved as quickly as I could to the door, fumbling for my key in the process. My muscled screamed out in protest as I hauled Nat in. I flipped the lights on to find my cat Link sitting on top of the couch. He meowed a hello.“Hi, pretty boy.” I cooed at him. Link blinked a few times. I headed into my bedroom and laid Nat on my bed. I pulled her shoes off, searched for pajamas, helped her get out of her dress, and helped her into bed. I changed into my own pajamas and grabbed a pillow, blanket, and my copy of Les Miserables. My couch was serving as my bed tonight. As I made my bed, Link was still sitting in the same place watching me carefully.“What do you want, judgy?” I looked at him. “Do you want food?” Link jumped off the couch and headed to the kitchen. “I’ll take that as a yes.” I followed him to my small kitchen, grabbed a can of wet cat food, and Link’s food dish. The ripe scent of the cat food reached my nose as I opened the can. I could feel Link’s eye son me as I scraped his dinner into his dish. Once I finished, I set it back on the floor next to his water dish that had plenty of water in it. He immediately swarmed in on it and greedily ate his food. Tea sounded good at the moment. I browsed the cupboard and found some chamomile tea. I grabbed my favorite mug I used for tea, which had the Hufflepuff crest. Totally nerdy, but completely underestimated.I took a kettle and filled it with water before sticking it on the stove. I filled a glass of water and grabbed a bottle of Advil for Nat and stuck it on the night stand next to her as she slept. When the kettle began to whistle after a few minutes, I poured the hot water into my mug and steeped my tea. I turned the TV on to the news at a low volume as I flopped on to the couch.The news reporters were doing a story about the Flash. Ever since he made an appearance while he faced off Leonard Snart, aka ‘Captain Cold’, and Mick Rory, aka ‘Heat Wave’, the city’s been on a frenzy covering every story about him and trying to figure out who he is. The guy’s making a good reputation for himself. Better than the Arrow guy in Starling City, but hey, when you kill criminals and try to make amends, it will take some time for me to trust that person. At least he’s doing better. Tonight’s story was of how the Flash thwarted a few bank robberies and saved a few people from a car wreck that caught on fire. I smiled a little. At least I’m not the only one in this freak show world.After a while I turned the TV off and read some of my book. The book was pretty thick, but I was always up for a challenge. There was a sizeable dent I made from weeks of reading. My tea had a calming effect as I read. By the time 2:30 in the morning approached, my eyes struggled to stay open. I gave up and marked my spot in the book before turning the light off. I curled up in my blanket and Link jumped up, curling up in a ball on my lap. “Hi, buddy.” I scratched him affectionately behind the ears. He began to purr. Shortly after that, I succumbed to sleep. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- I woke up to whiskers tickling my face the next morning. Light blinded me as I opened my eyes. I winced in pain at the sudden brightness. Link was inches away from my face and meowed loudly. Food, he seemed to be saying. Give me food! I gently pulled him off of me and got up, stretching to get the sleep out of my system. Then I walked into the kitchen with Link following behind. After I got him his breakfast, I grabbed a bowl and filled it with Honey Nut Cheerios. Then I grabbed milk from the fridge and poured it in the bow. After that I brewed a pot of coffee. The aroma of brewing coffee filled the kitchen and set a relaxed feeling to everything.As I ate breakfast, Nat shuffled out into the kitchen in a zombie-like fashion. She even looked a bit like one.“Sup, Party Animal,” I greeted with a quiet voice and a mouthful of Cheerios. Having a hangover sucks major ass if you don’t take the precaution like drinking plenty of water and eating food. Your head’s killing you, your eyes are sensitive to light, and everything sounds all grainy against your skull. Nat winced.“Hi,” She sat down. “Did you bring me back last night?” I nodded. “Why?”“You were flat out wasted and I wasn’t going to let anyone take advantage of that.” I replied. “Especially the bartender you gave your number to. Plus my place is closer to the club than yours is.” Nat weakly chuckled.“He was a nice guy.” She drifted off a little. “God, my head is killing me.” She laid her head down on the table.“You need to drink plenty of water and need to eat something greasy.” I replied while getting up to clear my dishes.“Please and thank you.” Her voice was muffled. I pulled bacon, eggs, milk, and juice out of the fridge. I fried up the eggs and fluffed them a bit with milk, friend the bacon in a separate pan, put some bread in the toaster, and poured a glass of orange juice. Once the meal was ready I dished it all out on a plate. “So what’s your plans for the day?” I handed Nat her plate of food. She took it and dug in.“I have a photo session for a couple today at the park. It’s with some people named Iris and Eddie. Iris said she wanted to do a photo session and use a few of the pictures as a present for moving into the apartment she’s living in with her boyfriend.” I explained. “Afterwards I might go for coffee at Jitters.”“Sounds like an interesting day.” She nibbled on a piece of bacon.“What about you?” I asked.“I’m going to get rid of this hangover, play hard to get with our friend the bartender, and go work on rehearsal for ‘Macbeth’.” Nat had a part for one of the three witches. She was pretty good at it. “Thanks for taking care of me when I’m at my worst.”“You helped me getting over Grant. It’s the least I could do.” I shrugged. “Feel free to use the shower.”“Oh, God,” Nat sniffed her dress. “I definitely need one after last night.”“Take it easy today.” “Will do.” “And drink plenty of water.” I emphasized. “Not alcohol. The main reason why your hangover is so bad is because you didn’t drink any water last night. You have to stay hydrated.”“Why weren’t you a science major at CCU?” Nat asked.“Science actually isn’t my strong suit. I know this from firsthand experience.” I explained. Nat shrugged and went back to eating. My appointment with Miss West and Mr. Thawne was at 10:30, so I had an hour to make myself presentable to my clients. As much as I wanted to wear my nerdy shirts with ripped jeans, I refrained myself. It was quite the struggle to be honest.I found a nice pair of jeans, a blue and gray-striped V-neck sweater with black sleeves, and my classic black Converse high tops. It was casual, yet professional. I kept my class ring on my ring finger of my right hand and my necklace I earned in high school for my years in band. I know, it’s nerdy, but they mean a lot to me.I brushed out my nappy hair and straightened it a little. There were still some waves in it, but overall it looked nice. I brushed my teeth, put on some deodorant, and sprayed a little perfume on. Once I was dressed I grabbed my camera bag and my messenger bag. Link was perched on his scratching post, gazing at me with his yellow lamp-like eyes. I scratched him behind the ears and he purred, bunting my hand with his head. I chuckled softly in amusement.“Love you, too, Link.” I replied. Then I kissed him on his head. “Nat, I’m heading out. Do you need anything?”“No, I’m fine. I might take a nap after I shower to help get rid of the hangover, though.” He flopped on the couch.“Sounds like a plan.” I slipped my black leather jacket on and opened the door. “I’ll be back later.”“I’m not going anywhere.” She waved. Link left his post and sat next to Nat. “Link and I will binge watch some Doctor Who. Have you seen the new episode yet?”“Spoilers! Shut up! You’ll ruin it for me!” I made a face. Nat laughed.“Have fun with your clients.”“I’ll try to.” I stuck out my tongue and closed the door behind me as I left. At least Link could keep her company. I headed downstairs to the parking lot and climbed into my 2010 Black Ford Focus. The drive took fifteen minutes because I had to cross the bridge. The sun was rising over the river and reflected its light off of it. Behind me was the vast structure of S.T.A.R Labs.After the explosion the building practically shut down. I don’t blame Dr. Wells for doing so. If it were me in his shoes, I’d feel pretty horrible about being responsible for the deaths of seventeen people and changing the lives of the present super powered people.My mind wandered as I continued driving. It ended up being a poor choice because I heard hundreds of thoughts from people in the area. A slight headache began to form at the temple from being overwhelmed. In my mind I put up a steel wall to block the thoughts. Much to my relief I reached the park. There were lots of flowers blooming, trees gaining their leaves back; it was the arrival of spring. Perfect for photos. I parked my car in the lot that was close to the paths. Another car was parked there as well. That must be my clients. The doors opened and out walked a tall man with blond hair and a woman with mocha colored skin. I climbed out of my car as well and grabbed my camera.“Iris and Eddie?” I asked, reaching the couple.“Hi, you must be Riley.” The woman stuck her hand out and I shook it.“Yes, pleased to meet you.” I smiled. Eddie and I exchanged our hellos and shook hands.“We wanted to thank you for doing this. It means a lot to us.” Eddie gratefully said.“Oh, it’s no problem.” I replied. “Just doing what I love. Shall we go look for locations?”“Absolutely!” Iris agreed. She looks like she could be Barry’s type. She’s really pretty. Wait, would Barry even date a photographer? Well, he dated Linda and she reported sports. Hmm, maybe I should get to know her. God damn it, Riley, quit reading minds!“So what do you two do for a living?” I asked to strike up something as we walked.“I’m a reporter for the Central City Picture News.” Iris replied. “And I run a blog.”“Ah, journalism must be an exciting career. And I’ve read your blog. It’s very fascinating.”“My job at CCPN has its ups and downs.” She shrugged. “But, thank you for reading my blog. It’s nice to know there are others out there who read it.”“It’s really good stuff.” I smiled. “What do you do, Eddie?”“I’m a detective in the Central City Police Department.” Eddie replied. “Iris’s father is actually my partner.”“That must’ve been an interesting talk with your father.” I chuckled a bit. They laughed as well.“I was considering looking into witness protection after we told him.” Eddie added.“We also have a pretty close friend, well he’s actually more like a brother to me that works as a forensic analyst. He’s a bit of a nerd, but he’s loveable.” Iris put in. “Actually, he is a nerd, but still loveable.”“I don’t give Barry enough credit for how good he is at his job.” Eddie spoke more directly towards Iris. “We wouldn’t have been able to figure out our cases without him. Also, he’s the reason we’re together.”“Maybe you should tell that to him.” Iris suggested.“I definitely will.” Eddie kissed Iris on the cheek. I felt a pang of jealousy in me. “So what do you do besides photography?”“I’m an artist and a musician.” I replied. “I mostly stick to photography, but I paint as well.”“Ooh, what do you play?” Iris asked with a great amount of interest. I think she definitely could be a good match for Barry.“Mostly guitar and piano, but I sing if we need any vocals.” I explained. “I’m in a band with a few people from high school. We’re still trying to stay on one name because we have a terrible habit of changing our name.”“Wait, have you played at Jitters?”“Yeah, I have a few times.”“Shut up! I used to work there! Oh, my God, I remember listening to you play. You guys sounded great!” I’m starting to like this Iris. We walked around the park to different locations where the couple had various poses. They were actually quite cute to be honest. We spent at least an hour shooting different poses. For once, a couple photo session was actually fun. After we gathered enough photos, we headed back to our cars.“So what are your plans for today?” Iris asked.“Probably head over to Jitters for a coffee.” I replied.“Same here. Well, Eddie has to work in an hour, but we can meet you there if you want.” Iris suggested.“I love the idea.” I agreed. “Sounds great.”“Great, we’ll see you over there.”“Iris, you should invite Barry.” Oh, my God I think they’re trying to set me up with this Barry guy. Who names their kid Barry? What is it short for? Bartholomew?“Eddie, you’re a genius!” Iris planted a quick kiss on her boyfriend’s lips. She pulled out a phone and texted away on it. I climbed into my car as they climbed into theirs. Both of us set out for Jitters, a local coffee joint in Central City. I find myself going there at least once a week.Within a few minutes we were at the heart of the city at Jitters. I parked my car in the lot and grabbed my bags. There’s no way in hell I’m leaving my camera out in the car. I made that mistake with a laptop once. Luckily nothing important was on it; just some old photos I took and the Sims 4. Luckily my disc wasn’t in it.I met Iris and Eddie at the front door and we headed inside. As soon as we walked in, a huge aroma of coffee hit me full force. Oh how I love the smell of coffee. It seemed to have the same effect on Iris.“God, I love coffee.” Iris sighed.“It’s the nectar of the gods.” I chuckled. They chuckled in amusement.“That couldn’t be truer.” She agreed. We headed to the counter and placed our orders. I paid the price for my cappuccino and sat down at a circle of couches with Iris and Eddie.“Barry said he’ll be here in a few minutes. He has to take care of something at work.” Iris informed. “You’ll like him, he’s a great guy.” We sat around and chatted for a while until a waiter stopped by with our coffee. Iris wanted to see more of my photography artwork, so I showed her my portfolio I keep in my bag. Iris flipped through the pages, studying the photos closely. “Riley, these are really good. They’re amazing. Eddie, take a look at these.” He pulled my portfolio towards him.“Oh, my God.” He studied them. “These are amazing. Iris, I think we chose the right photographer.” I blushes a little at the comment. “I have a feeling we could use your skills in the future.”“Hey, guys.” A male figure stood across from me. He was tall and skinny, yet fit. He had a young face with brilliant green eyes and a charming smile. His hair was a nice shade of brown that stuck up a bit. He wore khaki slacks, a nice sweater, and a black sports jacket. I noticed he was wearing black Converse exactly like mine. He has good taste in footwear.“Hi, Barry.” Iris and Eddie greeted. So this was Barry. I was taken by complete surprise. He was actually very attractive. Very attractive.“Barry, this is Riley Lewis. She’s a photographer and a musician.” Iris introduced. Barry smiled and stuck his hand out.“Barry Allen.” He introduced himself. A jolt of electricity shot through me as I touched his hand. He must have felt it, too. “Sorry about that. Must’ve had some static electricity built up.” His grip was gentle as I shook it.“Not a problem.” I replied. “Nice to meet you.” I smiled back.“So how do you know each other?” He asked, sitting back in his seat.“I run a small photography business. Iris contacted me through an ad I posted ad we met up for a photo session. She wanted to do one with Eddie.” I explained.“Nice, how did that go?” He asked. Of course Iris wanted to do a photo session. He sounded sad.“It went pretty well. Do you want to see?”“Sure, definitely.” He replied with that charming smile. I pulled my camera out and switched it on. Then I scooted to his side and pulled up the photos.“We went to Central City Park this morning. There’s some other photos I ended up taking of besides of Iris and Eddie.” I passed my camera to him. A pleasing scent of aftershave filled my nose. He smelled really good. “Just navigate with those buttons there.” I pointed out. Sometimes the controls on there can be a tad bit confusing. Barry held my camera with gentle care and flipped through my photos, studying them intensely.“These are really good.” He raised his brows. “These….are amazing. You have a really good eye.”“You should look at her portfolio.” Iris handed him the booklet. He passed me my camera back and I turned it off, putting it away. Barry then took my portfolio and flipped through that as well.“I like this one a lot.” He pointed to a black and white photo of a church on a canal walk.“That one’s a personal favorite.” I replied. “I took that on the canal walk last October.” He flipped to the human subjects section. A lot of them were photos of a little boy and girl.“Kids you know?” He asked.“Yes, that’s my nephew.” I nodded. “His name is Sam. He’s four. And the other is my niece Rebecca. She’s eight.”“They’re adorable.” Barry commented. Sam and Rebecca are the children of my older sister Anna. She’s six years older than me and happily married to a business man named Ethan Bartman. They visit my parents often when Sam needs a babysitter or Rebecca needed to be picked up from school when no one else was available. When I came to visit, my parents would ask me if I found a man to marry and when would I pop out grandchildren. Barry kept looking at my portfolio. “These are amazing. Are you doing photography for the newspaper?”“Actually I’m not.” I shook my head. “I just stick to my photography business, working on different art projects, and playing in my band.”“You have a band?”“I play guitar, piano, and vocals if they need it. We’re not exactly set on a name yet because we change names a lot.” I replied. “We’re playing here on Saturday night. You should come check us out if you want.”“Yeah, definitely.” Barry agreed. “I like that idea.”“Riley, I can recommend you as a photographer to my boss if you’re interested. Our current photographer kind of sucks compared to you.” Iris offered.“That would be great, actually. Thank you, Iris.” I was pretty surprised. Eddie pulled out his phone and looked at the screen.“I have to head to work in a bit. I would love to stay and chat, but I have to go.” He stood up and slipped his coat on. “I’ll see you when I get home, babe.” He gave Iris a quick kiss. I saw Barry stiffen a little. “It was nice to meet you, Riley.”“You, too.” I smiled.“See you later, Barry.” Eddie nodded.“Later, Eddie.” Barry gave a small wave as he headed towards the door. Once Eddie was gone, Barry relaxed. I put the two together in my head. Barry liked Iris. No, Barry loved Iris. I felt a small pang in my chest. Well, there goes my chance. Iris let out a relaxed sigh. I wonder if Iris knew. She did try to seem as casual as possible when Eddie kissed her. Maybe she does.“So, Riley,” Iris brought me out of my thoughts.“Hmm?” I asked.“Any special guy in your life?” She asked. I hope I’m not making it obvious in trying to set them up.God, Iris, why would you ask that question? She probably already feels uncomfortable enough, Barry groaned inwardly.“Not right now, no.” I replied. “There was one guy a while ago, but not anymore.”“I’m sorry to hear that.” Iris played the sympathy card.“Don’t be. He was an asshole.” I waved it away.“Sounds like quite a guy.” Barry chuckled. “How’d you meet him?”“I met in at a party I went to in college.” I replied.“You don’t seem like the party type, no offense.”“I’m definitely not the party type.” I laughed a little. “No, my roommate was the party animal. She dragged me to that and I stayed close to the walls and stairs. I hated every single moment of it.”“Understandable.” He agreed. “I’m the same way.”“So that’s how that was. I secluded myself and hung back, then he walked up and started talking.”“Out of curiosity, what university did you attend?”“I went to CCU and graduated in 2011.”“Oh, my God, no way! Me, too!” Life and excitement filled his eyes. “Were you there at the 2010 Homecoming game against Met U?”“And they arrested the streaker that ran across the track?” I finished. “Yep, I was there. I was in the marching band and there was a front row seat.”“That must’ve been an interesting view.” He laughed.“Definitely unforgettable.” I laughed as well. “By chance, did you graduate from Central City High School in 2007?”“Yes I did. I’m assuming you did as well?” Barry looked at me with interest.“Indeed, I did.” I nodded, taking a sip from my coffee.“Holy crap, it’s a small world. Iris graduated with us as well.”“Mr. James’s economics class.”“Oh, my God, I thought his eyebrows were furry caterpillars.”“Same here! I thought they would eventually jump off his forehead and crawl around on the floor.” I laughed.“I heard Mrs. Patton from the math department finally retired.”“That crazy bat?” I gapped. “I thought she would kick the bucket while we were there.”“I guess not.”“She was there teaching math when my dad was there in the seventies.”“She’s a lot older than I thought.” Barry’s eyes went wide. “I’m surprised she lasted this long.” Iris seemed amused by our conversation. I saw it as a good sign.Oh, come on, Barry! Iris pleaded. She’s practically perfect for you! We sat around for a good while getting to know each other. Barry was incredibly smart and very funny. He even flipped out at my Catbug text ringtone where he yelled ‘Sugar peas’. My God, he’s perfect. Iris had to leave at some point to head to work, so it was just the two of us.It was nice. There wasn’t any pressure of Iris or Eddie around. We could sit and talk like two normal people. Well, one person was normal. Our fun time was cut short when Barry’s phone rang.“I’m sorry, I got to take this.” He apologized as he looked at his phone.“No, no, no you’re fine.” I assured. “Happens to all of us.”“Thanks.” He smiled. “What’s up, Cisco?” He was silent for a few moments. “Where? Right now?” He sighed. “Okay, I’ll be there in a bit.” He hung up. “I’m sorry. Something came up and I have to go.” He looked a little sad. I scrambled to my bag and fished around in it.“Wait, before you go.” I tried to stop him.“Yeah?” He was on his feet and slipped his coat on. I found my small box of business cards and pulled one out. I stood on my feet and handed it to him. “What’s this? I don’t think I have a face worthy to be photographed.” Barry was confused.“No, that’s my cell number.” I chuckled, pointing to my contact info. “Call me some time. Maybe we can hang out.” Barry flushed a little.“I definitely will.” He smiled.“And I’d better see you on Saturday.” I added.“I’ll be there.” Barry pulled his wallet out and stuck the card in it. “It was nice to meet you, Riley.”“It was nice to meet you, too.” I smiled as we shook hands.“I will see you on Saturday.” He smiled back. We were silent for a bit. She’s really pretty.“Umm,” I brought us out of our thoughts. “Don’t you have a place to be at?” Barry blinked.“Yeah, sorry.” He flushed a little again, but smiled. “I’ll call you some time.” He began to head to the door. “Bye, Riley.”“Bye, Barry.” I waved a little. I watched him walk past the window and he disappeared around the corner. I smiled to myself a little. Maybe something good could come out of this. He seems nice enough. Then again, Grant was nice when I first met him. Iris seems to trust him a lot, given on their friendship. Maybe this could be something. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- When I got back to my apartment, Nat was on the couch watching TV and Link was curled up in her lap. I hung my stuff up and plopped down next to her.“So how did it go?” Nat asked. She had Doctor Who playing on Netflix.“It was good.” I replied while scratching Link behind his ears. “The couple I did the session with were really nice. We went out for coffee at Jitters and I met a guy.” Nat paused the episode.“Hold up.” She gaped at me. “You met a guy? Where? What’s his name? What’s he like? Is he cute?”“Yes, I met a guy.” I nodded. “I met him at Jitters. He’s actually a friend of the couple. His name is Barry Allen, he’s pretty nice, funny, charming, and yes, he’s cute. Very cute, actually. I found out that he was at CCU with us and he went to high school with me.”“Holy shit, that’s amazing. You have to show me a picture of him.” Nat’s eyes shined with excitement.“Let me go get my senior yearbook.” I go up and headed to my room. My room had a few bookcases with a decent number of shelves and every shelf was filled with books. No, the shelves were crammed with books. I love books. I browsed the case that had my yearbooks until I found my senior yearbook. I pulled it out and flipped to the senior class section.I walked out and headed back to the couch. I handed Nat the book and pointed to Barry’s picture. “That’s him.” I explained. “Oh, my God, he hasn’t changed a whole lot.” I looked closer at the picture.“Damn, he’s cute.” Nat agreed.“If you think his photo is cute, wait until you see him in person.” I smirked.“So did you get his number?”“No, but I gave him my business card that has my cell on it.” I grinned.“Smooth!” Nat high fived me.“And he said he would stop by on Saturday night to hear the band play, along with the couple from the photo session. Turns out the chick used to work at Jitters.”“No way. God, it’s a small world.” Nat breathed. “I’m coming Saturday.”“Good, because you would be a shitty friend if you didn’t come.” I replied.Also because I want to meet this Barry Allen. Son of a bitch, he is damn fine. Great, do I have to fight my best friend?“I just want to see why this Barry guy has you so intrigued. It’s been months since you’ve had your eyes set on a guy. I just want to make sure he’s good for you in case if you form something more than a friendship.” Nat’s expression softened. “I worry about you, Riley. Ever since the fucktard Grant cheated on you, I worry when guys are around you. I worry they’ll take advantage of you and then hurt you.”“Yet you’re so persistent on finding me a man.” I noted.“You deserve happiness. I know I can be a pain in the ass with guys, but you do deserve happiness. And I have a feeling this Barry guy could be the key to it.” I was silent for a bit. So that’s what Nat felt. “I’ve got to head into work. I’ll text you when I can, okay?” I nodded. She gave me a hug. “Everything’s going to be fine.” Nat grabbed all of her stuff and headed out the door. “Love you!” She called.“Love you, too!” I replied.“Sugar peas!” My phone alerted me of a text. I pulled my phone out and viewed it. It was from by mom. Would you like to come over for dinner? Apparently my job in the arts gave my mom the impression that I don’t eat enough because of low income. I don’t exactly blame her. Yes I would. Do you want me to bring anything? If you could bring wine over, that would be great. Your father and Ethan are grilling steak. I’ll be over around 5. Great, see you then. I couldn’t say no to my dad’s grilling. My dad’s grilling is the shit. He’ll make his own marinating sauce and leave whatever he’s grilling in it for a few days. Not only that, but I liked visiting my parents. My dad and I were closer than I was to my mom. She favorited my sister. Probably because Anna’s been more successful at life by having an actual job, being married, and having kids. She was like that when we were younger. She was the perfect child. She had perfect attendance, 4.0 GPA, valedictorian, student council president, National Honor’s Society, and the list goes on.Then there’s me; 3.5 GPA, art, and band. Did my dad see that as important and outstanding? Hell yes he did. He was my personal cheerleader next to Adam. My dad was the super artsy one and my mom was the proper business woman. I will never understand how my dad and she fell in love. They’re total opposites.To pass the time away, I took the photos from today’s session and did small touch ups. They weren’t drastic changes. Some were to bring a little more color out. Some were experiments of the black and white setting which turned out pretty well. Once I finished touch up the photos, I uploaded them to my photography website. Then I texted Iris to let her know they were up.When it was 4:30, I gathered my stuff, fed Link, and headed out to my car. I drove to Fresh Market and headed to the wines section. I liked that there was a lot to choose from. Plus there were some wines that were damn good. I finally settled down on a bottle of red Decoy Cabernet. It leaves a lingering taste of fruit, caramel, and almond. After that, I headed to the coffee section where I got a bag of ground vanilla maple.I paid for those, climbed into my car, and then drove across the city to my parents. It always felt weird driving to my childhood home. It was a two-story colonial house with a basement. There was the master bedroom and bath, two bedrooms that now serve as guest rooms, an office, a full bathroom on the main floor, half a bathroom in the basement, kitchen, dining room, living room, laundry room, two-car garage, and a decent size backyard with a deck. My parents did a lot with the house after Anna and I moved out.As I pulled into the driveway, I spotted Anna’s car. Time to have my life degraded. I parked my car next to Ana’s and grabbed the Cabernet. I looked at the bottle. “Please be my best friend tonight.” I climbed out of the car and walked up the sidewalk to the front door. It opened before I could knock, revealing my father, Richard Lewis.“Hey, Peanut,” He used my childhood nickname with a warm smile. I embraced my father in a hug, smiling into his shoulder.“Hi, Daddy.” I kissed his cheek.“How’s my girl?” Dad asked.“Not too bad.” I replied. “I did a photography session today and I have a gig on Saturday at Jitters.” My dad supported me in my variety of work. My mom didn’t exactly approve. Oh well, it’s not her life.“That’s wonderful! How was the photo session? Who was it for?” We released each other from the embrace.“The session went pretty well. They were a nice couple named Iris and Eddie.”“Good, good.” My dad patted my head. “Sounds like a promising session.”“Before I forget,” I held up the bottle. “I come bearing gifts.” Dad took the bottle and examined the wine.“Decoy Cabernet.” Dad liked his wines.” Sounds delicious. I think your mother, Anna, and Ethan will like it.” Dad wrapped an arm around my shoulder and we walked to the dining room to put the wine on the table, then headed to the kitchen. My mom and Anna were bustling about in preparing food.“Riley,” My mother looked up from the pot of mashed potatoes she was making. “Hello, Sweet Pea.” She walked over and hugged me.“Hi, Mom.” I hugged her back. She was a bit taller than me, slender, brown eyes, and medium-length dark brown hair streaked with a little gray. My mother, Margaret Lewis, was a hard working woman. She cooked, cleaned, and worked as a secretary for a law firm in the downtown area. My dad was a few years away from retiring his job as a high school art teacher. “Did you remember to bring wine?” She asked.“Yeah, there’s a bottle of Decoy Cabernet on the table in the dining room.” I nodded.“Excellent. Ethan is out back helping on the grill. Which you should be out there with him.” She looked pointedly at Dad.“Now, now, Maggie.” He defended himself. “Ethan has experience with grilling. He can hold the fort down by himself long enough so I could great my peanut at the door.” Dad kissed the top of my head.“Twenty-five years old and still being treated like the baby in the family.” Anna spoke, wiping her hands on a towel.“I am the youngest in the family.” I pointed out.“Hey, Sis.” Anna pulled me in a hug. Her long brown hair she inherited from Mom was pulled back in a messy bun. I don’t understand how she does it. When my hair was longer I could never get it to look right. Then after I broke up with Grant I cut it a little shorter. A fresh start with life to move on from the past.“Hi, Anna.” I hugged her back. “Where’s Sam and Rebecca?”“They’re with Ethan out in the back.” She replied and released me from the hug. “So how was your day?”“It wasn’t too bad. I did a photo session with a couple today. One of them works for Central City Picture News and said she would recommend me as a photographer to the editor.”“Oh, honey, that’s wonderful news!” My mom continued with the mashed potatoes. “Now you’ll be able to have a real paying job.” I bit my tongue to refrain from saying anything.“Running a photography business is a paying job, Mom.” Anna was quick to defend. “Riley does a lot to run her business and gets paid well by her clients.” Mom didn’t say anything for a few moments.“I still think you should’ve majored in something like English to be a teacher.” Mom finally spoke. I don’t know why she even bothered to major in art if she’s not teaching it. She doesn’t make a lot with her career. Even that silly band of hers won’t get her anywhere. I felt the prickle of impending tears. Anna squeezed my hand.“I think your work is amazing.” Anna spoke quietly. “Don’t listen to her. She’s just jealous you have an artistic talent and she doesn’t.”“Thank you.” I spoke quietly. I gave my dad a look to assure him I was fine. Then I headed out to see Ethan and the kids. My brother-in-law was standing at the grill cooking the steaks. “Hey, Ethan.”“Riley, hey!” He greeted me with a smile.“My dad put you on grill duty?”“I volunteered.” He took a swig from the can of Pepsi he had in hand.“Smells delicious.” I examined the grilling steak. “And looks delicious.”“Thanks.” He flipped some pieces. “So what’s up with you today?”“I did a photo session today. One’s a detective and the other works as a journalist for Central City Picture News. She said she would recommend my photography skills to her editor.” I rambled.“Nice! They should definitely hire you. The photos you took for our wedding turned out perfect. If they don’t hire you, they’re bat shit crazy.”“Aww thanks.” I gave a sheepish smile. “At least you, Anna, and my dad appreciate my skills.”“Maggie’s degrading you again?”“Passively.” I frowned. Ethan inhaled sharply.“That’s the worst.”“You’re telling me.”“At some point, she’ll realize she can’t control your life. You’ve been out of college for at least three years and your band and photography business are doing just fine.”“I can see why Anna married you.” I sighed.“I try my best.” He shrugged. “Cheer up. Everything will work out and be fine. Your mom is a hard person to win over.”“She seemed to like you from the beginning.”“Oh, no I had to win her approval. That was hard.” He replied. “Nothing’s impossible, just the changes of it happening are very rare.”“I see your point.” I let out a breath. “Thank you.”“You’re family. It’s my job.” Ethan smiled. “Everything will be fine.”“Aunt Riley!” A very excited voice called my name. I turned toward the source. My nephew, Sam, was running as fast as his little legs could carry him across the yard. I got on my knees to his level and engulfed him in a hug.“Hey, kiddo.” I kissed the top of his head and picked him up. “How are you?”“Good.” Sam smiled.“Did you do anything fun today?” I asked while smoothing out his dark, wavy hair.“I went to preschool today.” He kissed my cheek. “We learned about colors.”“Yeah? What’s your favorite color?”“Red!” Sam said with excitement. “Just like the Flash!”“What makes you think he likes red?” I played along.“Because he wears red. Aunt Riley, you’re silly.” He wiggled to be put down.“You are so smart.” I kissed his cheek, then put him down. “Where’s Rebecca at?”“She’s over there.” He pointed to the swing set. Sure enough, Rebecca was sitting on top of the slide playing with one of her dolls.“Hey, chickie.” I walked over to her. Rebecca looked up and smiled.“Hi, Aunt Riley.” She slid down the slide and hugged me. I hugged her back with a gentle hug.“How are you?” I smiled down at her. She had the Lewis auburn hair color from my dad’s side and the Bartman blue eyes. She was almost my exact twin, except my eyes were brown.“Good.” She replied. “Mommy and Daddy have a surprise for us later. They said they would tell us at dinner.”“Really?” I raised my brows. “Do you know what it is?” Rebecca shook her head.“Nope.” She said. “Just that it’s a surprise.” Shortly, Anna came outside letting us know that dinner was ready. I didn’t even notice Ethan was already inside. Same and Rebecca took my hands and we walked back to the house hand-in-hand. When we walked into the kitchen, the aroma of food engulfed me and my stomach growled.“Wash up and then help set the table.” Ethan instructed the little ones. I ended up washing my hands as well, but took drink orders. Anna was the only one of the adults who didn’t want wine, which was strange because Anna loved wine. I got Sam and Rebecca some apple juice because Anna was a bit of a health nut and didn’t want her kids drinking soda.Once everything was set, we all sat down and my father said grace. I was raised in the Lutheran religion, but when I turned nineteen I started to question what I believed in. Not only that, but I was tired of people shoving religion down my throat. I respect others and understand everything in the church, but I was tired of the hypocritical people in church and tired of it being thrown in my face. I’ll still go to church, but not on a weekly basis.We piled in on the food. The rumbling in my stomach ceased and I was happily satisfied.“The steak’s delicious, Ethan.” My mom complimented.“Definitely.” I agreed.“You get my stamp of approval.” Dad smiled.“Thank you.” Ethan nodded his thanks. “I try my best.” We continued eating our dinner. The Cabernet I brought also ended up being delicious. Anna still didn’t touch the wine. Something’s up.“So Rebecca says you two have a surprise.” I spoke after a while. Anna slipped her hand into Ethan’s.“We do.” Ethan smiled.“Well, what is it?” Mom asked. Anna took a breath.“We’re going to have another baby.” She announced with a smile. The room burst into cries of joy. So that’s why Anna never touched the wine.“Anna, that’s wonderful!” Mom clasped her hands together. “A third grandchild!” Rebecca squealed in excitement.“You’re going to be a big brother, Sammy!” She explained the confused expression on his face. Once he understood, his face lit up with excitement.“Congratulations.” I smiled.“What names are you thinking of?” Dad asked.“If it’s a boy, Adam Ryan. And if it’s a girl, Cora Grace.” Ethan replied.“Beautiful names. Absolutely beautiful names.” Dad smiled.“The expected date is December tenth.” Anna added.“Just in time for Christmas.” Mom smiled. “Riley, when are you going to bring Grant over? I never see him anymore.” My stomach dropped.“Umm,” I replied. “Grant and I aren’t together anymore. We broke up four months ago.” My face burned. I haven’t told them yet. Mom’s eyes widened in disapproval.“How? Why? I liked Grant.” Mom spoke.“It’s a long story.” I bit my lower lip and sighed. “What I can say is that I made the decision to end it. I can’t be in a relationship if the other person remains unfaithful.” They understood that much.“Oh, honey,” Dad pulled me into a hug. I will find that son of a bitch and cut his dick off so he can’t go around and fuck other women. Never in my life have I heard my father so angry.Poor kid. Ethan was sympathetic. Mom was still speechless.“I’m so sorry, Sis.” Anna looked sad. Why did Mom have to ask her that? Shouldn’t she have guessed something was up when he stopped visiting? She always pokes into her private life. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence I spoke up.“May I please be excused?” I asked.“Of course.” My father nodded. I got up and cleared my spot, then headed into the kitchen. I rinsed my dishes off and stuck them in the dishwasher. My head was pounding as I leaned against the counter. My phone buzzed. I fished it out of my pocket. It was a text message. Hey, it’s Barry. :) There was a flutter of butterflies in my stomach. Ellooo J How’s it going? I hit send and waited for a bit. Not too bad. You? Suffering through a family dinner. Ouch. That’s never fun. How bad is it? My sister announced she’s pregnant and then my mom asked when I would be bringing my ex over and pop out grandchildren. That’s pretty bad. You’re telling me. :/ Any way I can help? Save me from this torture. I could, but I could secretly be a serial killer. You never know! I chuckled in amusement. No offense, but you’re not super intimidating enough to be a serial killer. :P I work in CSI. I could find multiple ways and yet still appear nonthreatening. But, none taken. :P Hmmm, very true. Not only that, but I don’t think your family would appreciate a total stranger on their doorstep and whisk their daughter away. That is also true! However, I propose a plan. And what would this plan be? To make up for not saving you from the torture house, how about going out to lunch sometime this week? My stomach dropped. He wanted to go on a lunch date. Should I? Yes? No? Come on, Riley. You need to get on with your life. Grant is part of the past now. He screwed you over and he’s an idiot fucktard. You need this. Nat’s words echoed in my mind. “This Barry guy could be the key to your happiness.” I like that idea. :) Great! Do you like Chinese food? I don’t know a whole lot of people that like Chinese food and I’ve been in the mood for some. I LOVE CHINESE! AWESOME! There’s this Chinese restaurant near S.T.A.R. Labs. Their food is amazing. I’ve been there several times hahaha. My apartment is in that area, actually. Well that makes it easy! So does Friday afternoon work for you? Friday’s perfect. :) Great J In the meantime, I have some forensic stuff to attend to. Good luck! I have family problems to attend to. O.o And I wish you good luck. :) I’m gonna need it. Channel your inner Catbug. :P Yeeeeeeesss!!!! :) Hahaha good luck Riley. Thanks, see you on Friday. :) I stood there in silence after I added Barry to my contacts. I have a lunch date. I have an actual lunch date.“Riley?” My mother walked in. “Are you okay?” I turned around.“Yeah, I’m fine.” I nodded. “Just a little overwhelmed with everything.”“I’m sorry about earlier.” She apologized. “I had no idea. I should’ve known since the day he stopped coming around.”“No, it’s my fault.” I put a hand up. “I should’ve told you guys as soon as we ended our relationship.”“What happened?”“Well,” I swallowed. “I suspected something was up with Grant. Then one day I went to his apartment and found him having sex with another woman. I ended the relationship right there on the spot.” “Has there been anyone else?”“No,” I shook my head. “I tried, but there’s no one else.” Mom came up to me and embraced me in a hug.“You’ll find someone, sweetie.” She patted my back. “I know you will.” We stood there in each other’s arms for a few minutes. For once, it actually felt nice. “Now, let’s go get some dessert. I made German chocolate cake.”“Okay,” I gave her a small smile. She knew that German chocolate cake would cheer me up. It was one of my favorites.The rest of the time I was there, things got better. We had dessert, I helped with the dishes, watched a movie, and talked some more. My mind kept going back to Barry’s lunch invitation. Each time I thought about it, I felt a tingle of hope. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Over the next few days I spent several hours practicing with my band. Our set list consisted of a lot of covers from Smallpools, Sheppard, Of Monsters and Men, and a couple of Coldplay songs. There were a few songs we wrote and a couple that featured Todd and me on some duets.When I wasn’t practicing with my band, I was out taking pictures or working on sketches and paintings. I even got a call from the editor of CCPN. He looked at my work Iris recommended and was very impressed. He said he would like for me to come in on Monday to start working there.Barry and I also ended up texting each other more as well. We would talk about what happened during the day, learn more of each other’s interests, and hobbies. He was fun to talk to.As Friday approached, my stomach felt like hundreds of butterflies were occupying it. Why was I so nervous? I should be nervous, should I? Maybe it’s because I haven’t gone on a lunch date or been invited out by a guy in God knows how long.After I came home from rehearsal that Friday morning, my stomach was in knots.“You can do this.” I told myself as I paced around in my apartment like a caged animal. “It’s just lunch with a guy.” It could become something more if things go well. “Just treat it as any other lunch.” I kept my attire pretty simple; jeans, Converse, a black beanie, and my Game of Thrones shirt with the Stark house crest on it. On top of that I had my CCU jacket.When the time approached to meet Barry, I grabbed my bag. The restaurant we chose to meet up at wasn’t far, so I could easily walk there. I pet Link on the head, then locked the door behind me.“Going out?” Thalia asked.“Yeah,” I grinned. “I have an actual lunch date.”“Who’s the lucky guy?”“His name is Barry.”“Oooh, sounds promising.” She flashed a grin. “Good luck, Riley.”“Thanks.” I smiled. I’m going to need it because I’m a walking disaster around guys. I stuck my keys into my bad and headed to the elevator. After reaching the first floor my breathing quickened a little. Here we go. I stuck my earbuds in and switched Spotify on. Listening to music helped me calm down a bit. It was my way to relax.I crossed a few streets, passing by some small markets, a park, a café, and small businesses. Eventually I reached the Chinese restaurant. The Jaded Dragon was my go to place for excellent Chinese food. It was my weakness along with coffee and massages. I turned Spotify off and stuck my earbuds in my bag. Barry was waiting by the door with his hands in his pockets.Come on, Barry, you can do this. It’s just a lunch date. I smiled to myself. He was nervous, too. At the sight of him standing outside the restaurant, I froze in my spot.Come on, Riley. You can do this. He’s just as nervous as you are. I took a deep breath and walked forward.“Hey.” I greeted with a smile as I approached Barry.“Hey,” He smiled back. “You ready?”“Yeah, I’m starving.” I replied.“Good, so am I.” Barry chuckled. “Nice shirt.”“The North remembers.” I was quick to reply. He smiled again.“Shall we?” He held the door open.“Thank you.” I replied as I walked into the restaurant. The aroma of Chinese food hit me full force."What would you like?” Barry asked as we walked up to the counter.“I can pay for my own food.” I was abashed.“This is a lunch date.” Barry replied. “The guy is supposed to pay for the meal, even if the woman orders something ridiculously expensive.”“I promise I’m not expensive.” I laughed as we reached the counter.“This lady right here.” Barry spoke to the worker at the register. “Do not let her pay for her own meal. I’m paying for her.” He was pretty persistent on this.“Such a gentleman.” The worker spoke with a heavy accent. “You are very lucky, miss.” She looked at me and smiled. “What can I get for you?”“Umm,” I stared at the menu. “I’ll have the chicken lo mein special with fried rice, an egg roll, and a fountain drink.”“And for you, sir?”“I’ll have the General Tso’s special with fried rice, an egg roll, and a fountain drink.” Barry ordered his food.“That’ll be fourteen dollars and sixty-seven cents.” To woman totaled it up. Barry pulled out his wallet and paid for the food while I grabbed cups for us. He took his and we headed over to the soda fountain. I got Dr. Pepper and he got Pepsi. We found a table for two by the window to sit down at.“So what’s up with you lately?” Barry took a sip.“The editor from CCPN called me.”“And?” He raised his brows.“He wants me to come in on Monday to start working there.” I answered.“Oh, my God, that’s awesome!” He was very excited. “Congratulations! That’s amazing. And you’ll know already know someone there on your first day.”“What about you? What have you been up to?”“Same old stuff.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “CSI stuff, working in the lab, running around the city, hanging with a small number of friends. Stuff like that.”“Sounds like an interesting life, Mr. Allen.” I gave a small chuckle.Oh, you have no idea how interesting, Barry thought to himself.Stop it, Riley. You don’t need to poke through his thoughts.“It’s average.” He crossed his arms and chuckled.“What?” I drew the word out. “Come on, your life must be interesting.” Barry blushed a little.“The only thing really interesting that’s ever happened to me was being struck by lightning a while back and ended up in a coma for nine months.” He replied.“Was that when S.T.A.R. Labs exploded?” I raised my brows. Barry nodded.“I was in the lab at the police station when the lab exploded. There was a storm cloud created by the explosion and the lightning struck me. Dr. Wells took me to S.T.A.R. Labs when my condition worsened. He felt responsible for what happened, so he felt a way he could give back to society was by taking care of me.”“Oh, my God.” I was surprised. “That must’ve been terrifying.”“At first it was.” Barry continued. “But the two people who still work with Dr. Wells took care of me and they ended up becoming my closest friends.”“Would one of them be the Cisco guy that called you?”“Yeah, Cisco’s a pretty good guy.” He smiled at the thought. “He and Caitlin are both pretty good people.” The worker at the register came up with our food. She set them before us and walked away with a smile.Such a happy and cute couple, she thought to herself. We dug into our food and made small talk as we ate.“Their egg rolls are beyond amazing.” Barry wolfed his food down.“Oh, my God, yes.” I agreed as I ate mine. “I would have an endless supply of egg rolls if I could. It may be fattening, but so delicious.” Barry chuckled. After we finished eating, we sat around and talked some more.“So what songs are you playing tomorrow night?”“We’re doing a couple of Smallpools covers, some covers on Of Monsters and Men, Sheppard, Coldplay, and a couple of original songs.” I listed off of my fingers.“Oooh, that sounds like a good variety.” Barry grinned. “I’m actually really excited about this.”“Are Iris and Eddie still coming?” I asked.“Yeah, they definitely are. Wouldn’t miss it.” He nodded.“And if you know anyone else, bring them, too.” I added.“Cisco will most likely go. I’m not sure about Caitlin and Dr. Wells doesn’t exactly scream the party type.” Barry stretched in his seat. “Do you want to get out of here?”“Sure.” I agreed. “We can go walk somewhere if you want.”“Does the park sound okay?” He stood up while slipping his jacket on.“The park is completely fine with me.” I stood up, grabbing my stuff. Barry was the first to leave the restaurant so he could hold the door open.“My lady.” He said with a smile.“Why thank you, good sir.” I smiled back, feeling my heart flutter a little from happiness. We headed towards the direction of Douglas Park. “To be honest, I was pretty nervous all morning.”“Really?” He raised his brows in surprise. “I was nervous, too. I didn’t take you for the nervous type.” I laughed a little. “What?”“I do get nervous.” I replied. “I get nervous about going on first dates with someone new and get uncomfortable around needles.”“That’s normal.” Barry mused.“But, if you throw me in front of a crowd to play for, I don’t exactly get nervous.” I added. “Though needles will scare the hell out of me.” I shuddered. “God, even saying the word makes me all uncomfortable.” He laughed at my reaction. “The school blood drive our senior year of high school made sure of that.”“Oh, right.” He recalled. “The nurse pricked your arm in a weird way and didn’t get a whole lot of blood out. Then you passed out.”“Oh, God, how do you remember all of that?” I blushed and covered my face with my hands.“I took human anatomy and we helped out with the drive. Plus I was there to help you out after you passed out.” He replied. I kept my face hidden behind my hands.“That was probably one of my most embarrassing moments in high school.” I moaned with horror. “I don’t remember much of that happening, but people kept saying I passed out.” Barry waved it off and laughed.“You were unconscious when we moved you. It’s okay.” He smiled. “About twenty percent of the world population has Trypanophobia where they fear needles and injections to some degree.”“Okay, Mr. Smarty Pants,” I looked at him as we walked. “What are you afraid of?”“I fear losing the people that mater the most to me.” He replied. “I actually didn’t really realize this until my mom died when I was eleven.” Foot. Mouth. Now. Way to go, Riley.“I’m so sorry.” I apologized, feeling ashamed of myself.“It’s okay.” He gave me a comforting smile.“Are you okay if I asked you what happened?” I asked. “If not, that’s completely okay and I fully respect your privacy.”“No, you’re completely fine.” Barry assured. “You’re fine. You’re actually one of the few people I feel okay to talk to about this.” He took a breath. “My mom was murdered. One night I heard a strange noise coming from downstairs so I went to investigate. There was this lightning in the house that was swarming around my mom. There was a man in yellow that was in the lightning. I know it sounds crazy, but that’s what I saw. My dad came in and told me to run. Somehow I suddenly ended up twenty blocks away from my house. I ran back to our house as fast as I could, but it was too late.”“Oh, my God.” I spoke softly/“When I came back, the police were walking my dad out of the house with hand cuffs. They thought he killed my mom, but I knew the truth. The man in yellow did it. My dad’s serving a life sentence for a crime he didn’t commit.”“Is that why you got a job with the police?”“That’s exactly why.” He nodded. “Hopefully I can find the guy. After my dad was sent to Iron Heights I moved in with Iris and her dad. She and I’ve been best friends for a long time.”“Iris seems like a good friend.” I complimented.“Yeah, she is.” He was quiet for a bit. “Does this all sound crazy to you?”“In all honesty, I don’t think it sounds crazy.” I shook my head. “Especially since the Flash appeared, I think it’s very possible you really did see something that night. Pretty much anything impossible seems possible now.” Ever since I got my ability, anything crazy sounds normal now. I slipped my hand in his and gave it a quick, gentle squeeze. “You’re not crazy, Barry.”“Thank you.” He squeezed back and smiled. We let our hands go and continued walking. “You’re one of the easiest people I have ever talked to.”“I have one of those faces.” I replied. We walked in a comfortable silence for a few minutes and reached the park.“I’m sorry about Iris asking the awkward ex question the other day.” He had a shy expression.“Nah, you’re fine.” I waved it away. “At least you know what there is to know in that area.”“So what ended the relationship?”“I always had this hunch that Grant wasn’t telling the truth. He would say he’s doing some client runs because he works for Tech Village or he’s out hanging with friends.”“He wasn’t doing either of those.”“Mmhmm.” I replied. “So I go to his apartment and I found him having sex with another woman.”“Oh, God, that’s horrible.” Barry grimaced.“It hurt horribly.” I nodded. “When the S.T.A.R. Labs explosion happened, a wave of something knocked me out. I woke up on the floor with bruises, but wasn’t injured seriously. Yet they still sent me to the hospital to check for things like a concussion.” I noticed Barry went a little rigid at the mention of the explosion. “Grant flipped out when he learned what happened. I thought that really meant something, but I was proved wrong when I caught him cheating. I ended the relationship right there on the spot.”“Damn,” Barry was shocked. “That’s brutal. It’s good you got out because that wouldn’t have been a very healthy relationship.”“I’m glad I got out. It was a toxic relationship and I probably could’ve lost my identity.” I replied as we walked around the small park. “What about you? Any past relationships?”“In high school I dated Becky Cooper.” He replied. I remember Becky Copper. She was a straight A student, NHS, student council, she was basically Anna, but a bit arrogant about it. “My most recent relationship was with a sports reporter at CCPN named Linda Park, but it didn’t last very long.”“I’m sorry to hear that.” Lovely, I get to deal with her at work.“It was a weird relationship. I liked her, but she was competitive and things got complicated with her. The whole relationship lacked chemistry and she just really didn’t seem very understanding.” Barry shrugged. “She just wasn’t the right person for me.”“Understandable.” I agreed. I could relate so well to him. Adam treated me well when we were dating in high school, but we just weren’t meant for each other. Walking the perimeter of the park brought some silence, but it was comfortable. The nice thing I noticed about Barry is that he didn’t talk all the time. He knew where to stop at and enjoy the silence. For once, I felt comfortable about it. Normally I would be bothered by it, but with him around, it was nice. “Any pets?” I asked.“When I was younger I had a beta named Sir Peter Joseph Cottontail of Scotland. Right now I don’t have any. What about you?”“I have a three-year-old black cat I rescued named Link.” I replied.“As in ‘Legend of Zelda’ Link?” He raised his brows.“Yep.” I nodded. I pulled my phone out and scrolled to the most adorable picture of my cat I could find. “That’s him.” I showed Barry. He looked closely at the screen.“Aww, he’s adorable.” He smiled.“He’s a weirdo. If you scratch him beneath his chin in the right spot, he’ll start to drool. He’s quite the cuddly cat, though.” Barry laughed in amusement.“I’ll eventually have to meet him.”“You definitely should.” I smiled back. Eventually we settle for the swings in the park and goofed off on them. We made small talk and laughed at a lot of things. Me being the huge dork I am, I twisted my sing up and spun around as fast as I could. After I stopped spinning I began to swing some more for a while, eventually jumping off and sticking a landing.“A perfect ten!” Barry cried.“If only I were that graceful.” I laughed. “I’m an expert at making a fool of myself.” Barry jumped off his swing and landed next to me.“You’re not the only one.” He replied. “I make a fool of myself all the time at work.”“I could see that being possible.” I laughed. Barry pulled out his phone and check the time, making a face at it. “What?”“My lunch break is almost over.” He frowned with sadness. “And I was having a great time with you.” My stomach fluttered at his comment.“You’ll survive.” I chuckled. “You have tomorrow night to look forward to.”“I do.” Barry smiled as we walked out of the park. “And I can’t wait for it.”“Me, too.” I smiled back. “I had fun today.”“So did I and I’m glad you did.” We stopped on the sidewalk. “We should definitely do it again soon.”“I definitely don’t object that idea.” We stood in a comfortable silence looking at each other. My heart fluttered as each second passed. The more I gazed at him, the more I realized how handsome he was. He rendered me speechless. I felt my mental steel wall crumble.She’s beautiful. She’s very beautiful, he thought. He was a little close, but I didn’t mind. I blushed and looked away sheepishly. “Thank you for today.” I said softly.“You’re welcome.” He replied in the same soft and gentle tone. Do I kiss her? Maybe on the cheek. My heartrate quickened its pace. Just hug him and give him a kiss on the cheek. “Well, umm, I should be getting back to the station or Captain Singh will have my ass.”“Yeah, I don’t want you to be late.” I said a little too quickly out of nervousness.“Okay.” He flushed a little. “Stupid question, but are you okay with hugs on the first outing? I don’t know if there’s some stupid rule…” Before Barry finished his sentence, I engulfed him in a hug.“Hugs are fine.” I chuckled. Barry relaxed a bit as he wrapped his arms around me. God, he smelled good.“I will definitely keep it in mind.” He agreed. As bad as you want to, don’t kiss her. At least not yet. Wait until the time is right. I closed my eyes and smiled. She smells amazing. After a few more seconds we let each other go. Barry blushed a little. “I will definitely see you tomorrow.” He smiled.“I’m holding you to that.” I grinned.“I promise you’ll see me.”“Good.” I chuckled.“I gotta go or I’ll be late.”“Get out of here, I’ll be fine.”“Bye, Riley.” He smiled.“Bye, Barry.” He headed off down the street at a quick pace. I could’ve sworn there was a jump in his step. Smiling to myself, I headed back home with my hear feeling the lightest it’s been in months. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "So how did the lunch date go?" Nat asked over the phone that evening. When I first mentioned the lunch date she screamed like a banshee."It was pretty good." I replied."Just pretty good? No, you need to spill the beans." She cut me off. "Like where did you go? What did you have? Did you do anything afterwards? Oooh, did he kiss you?""We went to the Jaded Dragon for lunch where he was kind enough to buy it for me. We talked a lot while we walked to the park, and no, he didn't kiss me.""Well, that's a shitastic ending.""He did hug me." I put in. "It was a nice hug. And he smelled pretty damn good.""For now that's good." Nat agreed. "Is he still coming tomorrow night?""Yeah, he promised on that.""Good because if he fails to ship up I'll kick his ass.""Ever heard back from our friend the bartender?" I asked."Yeah, we're supposed to meet up tonight." She replied. "He doesn't seem too bad.""Just be careful, Nat, okay?""Look who's talking.""You got me there.""Only looking out for you because I love you.""Love you, too."Sleep didn't come easily that night. I tossed and turned in my bed a lot, unable to get comfortable. When I finally did fall asleep, my dreams weren't welcoming either. "Run!" I cried. "Barry, run!" We sprinted down a dark alley away from a figure who was chasing us. My lungs were bursting for air and my legs screamed in protest from all of the running. There was a horrible stitch in my side that felt as if someone plunged a knife. We reached a corner and stopped to catch our breaths. "Are you okay?" Barry asked as I was hunched over, clutching my side. "I'm fine." I panted. "Just…really…out of shape. God, I need to start running in the mornings again." I stood up and took in deep breaths. The pain in my side subsided for now. Barry let out a shaky laugh. "Still showing humor in the presence of danger." He was a little breathless himself. "Nice." "I try." I replied. Our fun moment was cut short when a loud gunshot filled the air. I let out a yelp of horror as Barry clutched his chest and slumped to the ground. A dark stain was spreading out quickly. "No, no, no, no!" I gasped in terror and got on my knees. "Barry, stay with me!" I took my hands and pressed down on the wound, keeping pressure. He yelled out in pain and began to bleed more. "I'm sorry!" I sobbed at his cries of anguish. "I have to keep pressure on it or you'll bleed out!" His blood quickly covered my hands. "God, please no. Don't leave me!" Barry's breathing became labored and blood spilled out of his mouth. The bullet punctured one of his lungs. He wasn't going to make it. "Barry, stay with me." I said as tears spilled out. "Please, don't leave me." Barry's hands shook as he reached up and gently touched my face. "You were great." His breathing became more labored. "You were amazing and fantastic." He gave a shuddering breath and then his hand fell. He was dead. I completely crumpled and began to cry uncontrollably."No!" I screamed in horror. I buried my face into his chest and heavily sobbed. "Come back. Please come back." There was the sound of footsteps as someone was approaching us. I looked up and Grant stepped out of the shadows with a gun in his hand. "You!" I shrieked. "You did this! You killed him! Why did you kill him!?" Grant stooped low to my level and gazed at me with a cold smile."Because." He said. "You belong to me. You're mine and you will always be mine. I will find you, Riley."I shot up from my sleep, gasping and shaking hard. Sweat was soaking me, making my clothes stick. My sheets were tangled around my legs and my heart hammered against my chest. I gulped large amounts of air down, trying to steady myself. I put my head between my knees and breathed slowly until I felt better. It was just a dream. It was only just a dream. It felt so real, though.My phone was plugged into the charger on my nightstand table charging away. I grabbed it and checked the time; three in the morning. There were a few notifications from Facebook, but nothing else. As I pressed the home button, my thumb hovered over my texting app. I bit my lower lip in thought. Should I text him? No, he could be asleep. Instead of putting my phone down, I hit the app and selected a thread with Barry's number in it. Sorry for the late night text. Couldn't sleep. I hit send and waited, biting my lower lip in anticipation. Shortly after that, there was a reply. It's all good. I couldn't sleep either. What's keeping you up? Nerves and a nightmare. Worst combination ever. I feel you on that. I've had that happen a few times. What happened in it? What should I tell him? 'I had a nightmare where both of us were being chased by my ex down a dark and creepy alley and he shot you. Then you died.' Hell no, I couldn't send that. My ex in a monstrous grotesque form was chasing me. Close enough. Grant was a monster for what he did. Green tentacles, slime for drool, and nasty breath? My God, it's like you were actually there! Hahaha. I just watch too many old sci-fi films with Joe on movie nights. :P Ah, you're a classic nerd. :P I try. Are you feeling any better? Yeah, I'm feeling better. Thanks. You're going to be just fine tomorrow night. I know it. But you've never heard us play before. But judging from what I've heard from Iris is that you guys sound pretty amazing. So yes, you're going to be just fine and kick ass. Blaaaaah, okay. :P You'll be fine! Now, you need to get some sleep because you're going to need it. Hey Barry? Yeah? Thank you. Yeah, no problem. That's what I'm here for. :) Good night Barry. See you tomorrow. Good night Riley. :) I put my phone back and crawled beneath the covers, pondering our conversation. He was a good friend. Deep down I was starting realize I was starting to like him. A lot. I'd have to dial back on that, though. I couldn't get my hopes up too high in case if nothing came out of this. I had that happen a lot even before I got my abilities. Barry may be incredibly nice and sweet, but he still has his feelings for Iris.When I woke up in the morning, Link was sitting close to my face. His whiskers tickled my cheek and he meowed loudly. Get up, human, he seemed to say. Feed me my breakfast. I need my food."All right, all right I'm getting up." I plucked him off of me and carried him to the kitchen. I set him down and fed him breakfast. The band was meeting for breakfast at IHOP as part of our tradition. We did a group breakfast on the day we had a gig. It was our way of saying good luck.After I fed Link I changed out of pajamas and into jeans and a plaid green shirt. I had a black leather jacket I put on top, laced up my shoes, grabbed my bag, and locked the door behind me as I headed out. It was a cool morning as I walked out to my car. The sun was shining, there was nice breeze blowing through, and the temperature was cool enough for jacket weather, but not ridiculously hot.When I got to IHOP I spotted Adam, Todd, Chloe, and Matt all waiting outside by their cars. They must've recently arrived. I parked over next to Adam and climbed out."Way to be late." Adam said jokingly."It's five minutes after eleven." I replied. "I'm fashionably late.""Is that so?" Matt smirked."It is!" I defended myself. "My cat kept bugging me for breakfast.""I'm just messing with you." Matt laughed."I'm starving. Can we go inside now?" Chloe asked."Yeah, let's go in." Todd wrapped an arm around Chloe and they led the way. The rest of us followed suit."Damn Italians." I muttered. It was something we always said when Matt did something stupid. Adam walked up beside, chuckling with amusement."So I hear you had a lunch date yesterday." Adam held the door open for me."Yeah," I replied with some surprise. "How'd you hear that?""Nat told me last night." He replied as I passed through the doors."You two hook up again last night?""Maybe." Adam was shifty."Adam, it's fine if you did.""We did." He replied with bitterness. "Only because she needed some comfort because the bartender guy you met turned out to be a dick.""She told me last night she was going to meet him." I noted."Yeah, they met last night at a bar." Adam explained. "She hoped something good would come out of it, but turns out he only wanted her for sex.""Because he saw how she was outside the club life. He wanted someone easy and she ended up being a little too complex for him.""Exactly." He nodded. "Damn, you're good.""I read people all too well." I shrugged."Anyway, she called me after the date failed, so I picked her up and took her back to my place. She told me what happened, so we watched a movie, drank, and cuddled. Then things got a little heated up and we hooked up.""So you had pity sex.""No, she got drunk off of my vodka stash and she came on to me while we were cuddling." He got all flustered. Was he getting embarrassed about it?"So you took advantage of her.""We've hooked up several times before so I kind of expected it to happen." Adam tried to defend himself. "Besides, I don't think any of it actually means something to her.""Oh, my God," It hit me. "You like Nat." Adam turned red."Okay, maybe I do.""Do not lie to yourself." I laughed. "You like her a lot.""Isn't there some girl code where your best friend can't date your ex?" He asked."The code thing is total bullshit to me." I waved it away. "Besides, nearly all the guys Nat fancies aren't my taste. I don't care if she dates guys I've dated. It's her relationship, not mine. I think you two would be great for each other.""You think so?""Completely." I smiled. "She's had a crappy streak in successful relationships. Given on how you treated me when we were together, I think you would be what she's looking for." Todd told the hostess how many were in our group and she led the way to a large booth with menus."So now what?" He asked. "I want to tell her how I feel, but maybe she just wants to stick to the whole 'friends with benefits' thing.""Well, see how she acts around you tonight at the gig." I shrugged."But she'll hang around you a lot when we're not playing.""She won't if the guy I had lunch with yesterday is there. She'll want to give me space so we have a chance of starting something.""Very clever. What's his name, by the way?""Barry Allen.""What kind of name is Barry? Is it short for Bartholomew?" Adam asked as we reached the booth."Gee, I don't know. What kind of middle name is Bernard?" I turned the tables."Hey, Bernard is a great name." He piped back. "Haven't you heard of Bernard Cribbins?""You mean the guy who played Wilf in Doctor Who?""See? This is why you're awesome." He said. "Someone understands. Thank you. This Barry guy better be good." The hostess set the table for us and moved aside so we could sit down."Your waiter will be with you shortly." She replied, then walked away. We all scooted into the booth and flipped through the menu."You two gossip like a bunch of high schoolers." Matt noted."Aren't we great at it?" Adam grinned. We flipped more through the menu. French toast sounds really good right now."So tell me about this Barry guy. Nat didn't say much about him last night." Adam pursed his lips as he flipped through."Well, he's nice and pretty funny." I said. "He's charming, quite the gentleman, very smart, and cute.""How cute?""Very cute, even if he's geeky.""A perfect fit for you.""Maybe." I shrugged. "We just have to give it some time and see what happens.""Here's good luck to you." Adam smiled. We spent the rest of the morning eating breakfast and talking about our daily lives. After breakfast I headed back to the apartment. I had several hours to kill until I had to be at Jitters to set up for the gig.I spent a good amount of time sitting out on the fire escape drawing the city before me in my sketchbook. Link sat on the floor in the sun, lazily relaxing. Every now and then he'd move and stretch out on his back, exposing his furry stomach.I took a break around two to get a small lunch. Afterwards, I took a shower so I would look presentable on stage. Our dress code for gigs was to dress as comfortable and casual as possible. I ditched my green plaid shirt for a blue one and dark jeans. For my final touch I added my beanie and Converse.I gathered my acoustic and electric guitar together along with my amp and various cords I needed. I found myself pacing the living room. My anxiety was starting to get the best of me again."Come on, you can do this. It's just like any other gig." I told myself. "Except Barry's going to be there." My stomach dropped as I said his name. What's wrong with me?"Sugar peas!" My phone chirped. I grabbed it and saw the text was from Barry.What kind of coffee do you like what time do you perform? I smiled to myself. I like caramel macchiato. And I have to be at Jitters for a sound check at four, but we don't play until six. Okay. See you soon. :) See you soon. :) Aww, how sweet of him to buy me coffee. My heart fluttered a little. Don't get your hopes up too high. I gathered up my stuff and put the cords in a plastic storage tub as Thalia assisted me in loading up my car."Are you sure you won't be able to make it tonight?" I asked as we carried my equipment."I wish I could, but I have to cover for a gal at work. She's sick with the stomach flu." Thalia replied. "Plus I need the extra hours.""Understandable." I nodded as we walked to my car. "Any customers giving you a hard time?" She once came home bawling her eyes out because of how a few men she was serving humiliated her. I felt pretty bad for her so I let her stay with me for the night. It helped put her in a better mood."Ever since that night, no.""If that happens again, you need to let me know. You shouldn't have to put up with that. At the very least, let your manager know." I replied seriously."Riley, you don't need to do that." She turned red. "You don't have to come in if that happens.""You're one of the very few people in the world that doesn't deserve to be treated like crap. Next time some asshole does that, you let me know." I looked at her seriously."Okay." She was still red by the gesture. "You're a great friend.""Ever since the S.T.A.R. Labs explosion you've kept an eye out for me. It's the least I could do." I replied. We loaded my equipment in the car that took us two trips. Without Thalia's help, it could have easily been four. I thanked her for her help and headed back into my own unit to make sure Link got fed before I headed out for the rest of the day. If we play well enough, our three hour gig could go well past closing time.After Link was fed and I made sure I had what I needed, I set out for the front door and locked it behind me. Thalia wished me good luck as I made my way towards the elevator. I wished her good luck as well with her shift and headed into the elevator.The fifteen minute drive helped me relax a little, but as I pulled into the Jitters parking lot my nerves came back. I spotted everyone else's cars in the lot and parked in an empty spot. As I climbed out, Adam was walking out of Jitters."Need a hand?" He asked."Shouldn't you need a hand with all of your drum set?" I asked back."I have everything unloaded, just not out of the cases yet." He replied."Then yes, I would love a hand." I popped my trunk open. I grabbed my guitars as Adam grabbed my amp, then we headed inside. There was a low platform set up close to the back wall of the room and I spotted Adam's pile of drum cases."The owner said we can put our cases in his office so we don't have to worry about them being in the way." Todd informed as I approached them. Adam set my amp down."Anything else you need, Riley?""Just my tub of cords and my bag." I replied."I'll get them." He offered."No, I got them." I set my guitars down. "You have to get your drums together.""You sure?""Yeah, I gotta lock my car anyway.""Just holler if you need anything.""Will do." I said as I headed back outside. When I reached my car, I checked if anything was missing. Nothing was missing so I grabbed my tub of cords, locked the doors and heaved the heavy tub up. I headed back inside where Adam was setting up his drum set."I've got my sound guy coming in a bit so he can make sure our levels are fine tonight." Matt said as he was opening a tub with microphones. He brought stands in from his car along with his Yamaha piano. Matt worked at one of the radio stations on Clifton Street where he has a morning show. "Plus, I advertised our gig on the station's Facebook page. From the looks of the response, we might have quite the crowd tonight.""That's awesome!" I grinned as I hauled my amp to my spot in the front next to Matt. He was busy putting the stands and mics together, placing them in our designated spots. Then he started setting up the soundboard. I got back to setting up my stuff and plugged some of the cords into the amp. I pulled my guitars out and began to tune them while everyone else was finishing up. Matt's sound guy came in shortly after that."Hi." He approached me. He was tall, fit, green eyes, and had jet black hair. "I'm Zeke, the sound guy." He stuck a hand out."Hi, I'm Riley." I shook his hand. "Lead guitar, vocals, and occasional pianist.""Nice to meet you." He smiled. I wonder if she has a boyfriend. "So, um, sound board that Matt set up?"It's right over there." I pointed in the direction. "We're just waiting to hook up some speakers and plug everything in.""Great, I'll get to it." He nodded. Zeke headed off and began to do his work. I headed over to help Matt set his piano up while Adam and Todd were setting the speakers up. Chloe was setting her stuff up and tuning her bass."Can I test it out?" I asked as we finished setting his equipment up."Yeah, go ahead. You've got the highest piano skill out of all of us to really know what to look for." Matt agreed."Sweet!" I grinned. Once we got the thumbs up from Zeke that everything was plugged in, I turned the piano on and pressed a few keys. To test the levels, I played Debussy's "Reverie". From years of playing piano and minoring in piano, the piece came easily to me. My fingers flowed over the keys and the world around me began to disappear. My nerves began to relax more as I continued playing. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a few people stopping to watch and listen. Once I finished playing, there was a small applause from the audience."Levels sound good on the piano." Zeke reported."Shall we do a sound check now since we're all set up?" Adam asked."Seems like a good plan." Matt agreed. Everyone else nodded. "Okay, let's do a quick run." We all climbed up on the platform and plugged in, turning on our amps. I strummed a few chords out and played a small rift. Everyone else tested their levels and once they were satisfied, we were good to go. Our sound check lasted for about an hour or so and we still had some time left before we started actually playing. Zeke adjusted our levels so they were balanced and sounded fine throughout the building.As we lounged around until six, people began to walk into Jitters. Most of them were people I didn't recognize. I saw Matt's girlfriend walk in and he greeted her with a kiss. Out of boredom, I went back to Matt's piano and messed around on it. I turned the volume down on the piano so it wouldn't really bother anyone else. I decided to play a few more Debussy pieces as time passed."Debussy?" Adam asked as he walked up to the platform."Yep." I answered while playing."I listened to him a lot while I was at Juilliard." Adam replied. "I had to do a paper on him for my music history class.""And how'd that go?" I asked."Pretty well. I aced it." He replied. I continued playing a Debussy piece, then played "The Girl with the Flaxen Hair". It was a personal favorite next to "Clair de Lune". As I played, my mind wandered again and everything around me melted away. Much to my displeasure, it wasn't a long piece. It was beautiful, though. "What else do you know?""Beethoven, Mozart, Chopin," I listed off. "A lot of the big piano composers plus an Italian one who's alive.""What's his name?""Ludovico Einaudi." I started playing one of his pieces."And what's this one?""Nuvole Bianche." I replied."It's nice." Adam commented."Yes it is." I nodded in agreement."Riley, I think your guy friend is here." He nudged me. I looked up."Huh?""The guy you're crushing on. He's here." I looked around and sure enough, Barry was at the front of Jitters with Iris right beside him."I am not crushing on him." I stopped playing and whacked him on the shoulder. "I just…..casually like him. A lot.""Well go talk to him." Adam gave me a gentle push. "You invited him, so go talk to him.""I am, I am." I replied as I made my way over to Barry. When Barry spotted me, his face lit up and he had a huge smile. I couldn't help but smile back at him. I walked up to him and I felt a warmth spread through me."Hey." Barry greeted me with his charming smile."Hey." I greeted back. "You made it.""Of course I would. I promised I'd be here and here I am." He chuckled. "Um, Cisco really wanted to come, but he got stuck working late at S.T.A.R. Labs.""What exactly does he do over there, if you don't mind me asking?" I asked."He basically invents stuff that could be useful for the world.""Like ballistic shields lined with heating ribbons for the police to use against Captain Cold." I remembered the encounter between the Flash, Captain Cold, and Heat Wave."Exactly." Barry nodded."So how have you been?" I asked."I've been fine." Barry stuck his hands in his pockets. "How about you? Were you able to get more sleep last night?""Yeah, I've been okay." I replied. "And I did manage to get more sleep.""That's good to hear." He agreed. "Are you ready for tonight?""Definitely." I smiled. "A bit nervous, but definitely ready.""Well, I definitely can't wait to hear you play." He smiled back."Riley, hey." Iris greeted me with a hug."Hey, Iris." I hugged her back. "Is Eddie here with you?""Eddie got roped into working a shift so he can't make it here, tonight." She explained. "Are you ready for Monday?""Definitely." I agreed. "A little nervous, but definitely excited. Thank you for referring me, by the way. It means a lot.""Anything for our favorite photographer." Iris smiled."Anything." Barry agreed."How's my favorite guitarist?" A familiar voice spoke from behind and I felt an arm wrap around my shoulders."Hey, Nat." I grinned. "Nat, this is Barry Allen and Iris West. Barry and Iris, this is my best friend Nat." They exchanged their hellos and shook hands."Riley talks a lot about you, Barry." Nat chuckled."Really now?" Barry blushed a bit, but looked interested. I, on the other hand, blushed probably as red as a tomato. Oh can we just please talk about something else?"If she kept going on, she might talk herself to death." Nat chuckled."Ha ha, Nat." I forced a laugh. "You're hilarious." Nat gave me a squeeze."Oh relax, Riley. I'm messing with you." I forced a smile and nodded."Barry, do you want to go get a drink?" Iris asked. He nodded. "Do you want a drink, Riley?""I'm fine for now. I gotta play in a bit." I politely declined the offer."Okay. We'll be right back." Barry said. I'll just buy her a drink when they have a break."Okay." I nodded. Nat and I watched as they walked over to the counter. "So what do you think?""He's very cute and dresses well, but he's not my type." She stated her opinion. "He definitely seems like a very nice guy and maybe a perfect match. Once I talk to him more, I'll let you know afterwards.""And Iris?""She seems like a good friend. Although, Barry has this puppy look around her." Damn she was spot on with that."Yeah, but she's already dating someone who works as a detective." I shrugged."Ah, loving someone from afar." She sighed. "I know what that's like.""We both do." I agreed."We'll see, though." She added. "You never know. Something could happen tonight and set things on a completely different course.""Speaking of something could happen, you should talk to Adam later when we're on break." I noted. I followed her gaze to him."Adam? Why him? He's just a guy." Nat lied. Oh, God. Does she know I like him? Does she know I hooked up with him?"Cut the crap, Nat, I know you like him.""Are you mad?""How can I be mad at you for liking someone?" I asked. "We can't help having feelings for someone. That's just how it is. And if you like Adam, then I couldn't think of a better guy for you to like. He's a nice guy, and I think he can make you happy.""You sure?""I'm positive." I smiled. "Now, I need to go get ready to play. Who knows how long we're going to be up there." Nat gave me a hug."Good luck and kick ass out there." She released me."Thanks." I took a deep breath and sighed. "Tell Barry I-""Don't worry. I'll let him know you had to go." She pushed me towards the platform."Thank you." I gratefully said."You're my best friend. What are friends for?" She smiled. I smiled back and headed to the platform. The rest of the band was making their way towards the platform and Zeke made his way to the sound board."Ready?" Adam asked."Ready." We all nodded."Let's kick some ass." Chloe grinned. Matt nodded and headed up to the mic and piano near the front. We took our places on the platform, itching to play. Zeke gave Matt a thumbs up that we were good to go."Good evening," Matt spoke into the mic and the chatter in the crowd died down. "We'd like to thank you all for taking the time out of your Saturday evening to come here. We are the band Anonymous; seems fitting since we change our name so much." Laughter broke through the audience. I spotted Barry, Nat, and Iris close by. Barry looked directly at me and smiled.You can do it, Riley, he thought. I smiled back at him."We've got a variety of covers and originals to play for you tonight. This one is 'Dreaming' made famous by Smallpools." Matt concluded. Adam counted off and we began. As we played, the crowd was getting into the music and started to dance. We did a few Smallpools covers, a couple of Sheppard covers, and a few originals.We played. A lot. The audience seemed to really enjoy how we played. After we finished our last song for the first half, Matt notified the audience there would be a thirty minute break. I set my amp on mute and put my guitar on the stand. After that I set off into the audience in search of my friends.As I walked around, people were congratulating me on our performance so far. Once I spotted Barry, I felt a wave of relief. Nat nudged Barry and nodded towards my direction. He looked over at me and smiled. I walked over to the group and got showered in compliments."That was amazing, Riley! You guys sound awesome" Barry engulfed me in a hug."Thanks." I grinned, hugging him back. "Adam's over there, Nat if you want to talk to him.""I'll be back." She smiled and walked off towards Adam."You guys sound great." Iris smiled at me. "That's some real talent right there.""Thank you." I replied."Ooh, there's Emma from work. I gotta go ask her a few questions." Iris noticed someone close by. "Have fun, you two." She then left us alone."Do you want anything to drink?" Barry asked."Sure, just let me go get my wallet." I nodded."Nope, I'm paying for it." He shook his head."Stop spoiling me so much." I chuckled."Make me." He flashed a grin. We headed over to the barista, and I place my order that Barry paid for."Thank you." I gave him a small smile as we waited."You're working hard tonight. You deserve it." Barry shrugged. "But, you're welcome." We were silent for a few moments."So are you enjoying yourself?""Definitely. I haven't heard a live band in a while. Let alone a good one. You have a really great voice when you sing. I was completely blown away by it, along with your playing on the guitar and piano.""I try." I smiled sheepishly."How long have you been playing?" He asked."I've been playing piano since I was nine. Then when I was about twelve that's when I picked up guitar.""And singing?""That came from years of singing in the shower." I replied humorously. It made Barry laugh. "I'm more of the instrumental type than vocal.""Singing in the shower?" He chuckled. "You expect me to believe that years of singing in the shower led to you having a great voice?""Well, that's the plan." I grinned."Caramel macchiato?" The barista asked."That's me." I replied. The barista handed it to me and I took a sip. The caffeinated beverage slid down my throat and warmed me up. "God, I needed my coffee.""I can relate." Barry chuckled. I smiled at him as I took another drink."I prefer you with long hair. Almost didn't recognize you up there." A voice spoke behind me. My face fell and my insides went cold. I knew that voice. Barry gave a look of concern. I turned around to find a familiar male standing in front of me."Well, I decided to do something different." I replied. "Hello, Grant."So this is her ex, Barry thought."Hello, Riley." Grant replied. "How's life treating you?""Fine." I gave him a hard gaze. "And you?""Fine. Just fine." He stuck his hands in his pockets. "Still working at Tech Village.""Still seeing anyone?" I asked."Sydney? No, there hasn't been anyone." He replied. No one of complete interest to actually be in a relationship with. "Who are you? I don't think we've met." Grant turned his attention to Barry."Barry Allen." Barry replied, with a cautious gaze. "I'm a friend of Riley's.""Grant Williams." He stuck a hand out and Barry shook it. "Riley and I used to be a thing." I could see Grant making an attempt to crush Barry's hand, but Barry never flinched. Then they released their grip. "So how has your family been?" Grant asked me."They're fine." I replied. "Anna's expecting another baby, Dad's close to retiring, and Mom's the same as ever.""That's good to hear. Send them my regards.""I will." I answered. We stared at each other for a few moments."I'll see you around, Riley." Grant concluded. "Barry." Then he left us. As soon as he left us, I let out a sigh of relief."Was I drunk during the entire time I was with him?" I asked aloud."I think the better phrase is blinded by love." Barry put in."Yeah, I was drunk during the entire time." I replied. Barry laughed. "But, at least I didn't try to attack him this time.""You did pretty well." He complimented."What was that all about?" Iris asked as she approached us."That was an unfortunate run in with my ex." I replied."You mean that was Grant?""Yep." I nodded."That must have been incredibly uncomfortable." She sympathized. "What did he want?""Just wanted to know how things are, he met Barry, which was rather terrifying." I listed off."He got all hot and bothered and tried to crush my hand." Barry explained."Well I don't know what you guys think, but I think he sees you as a threat, Barry.""Great." Barry sighed. They went on talking about different stuff and I tuned out a bit to see what was going on around me. There were so many thoughts in a small space it made my head start to hurt. I rubbed a temple, trying to ease the pain. Barry eyed me. "You okay?""What?" I asked, coming back to reality. "Oh, I'm fine. Just a slight headache. It's nothing serious." I drank more of my coffee."You sure? Iris might have something." His face creased with concern."I'm fine." I assured. I tuned out again, listening to the different minds.Do it. Pull the trigger and shoot off warning rounds. Then order everyone to stay on the ground and have them hand over their valuables. Have Eric keep an eye on them. Make sure they don't use phones. The mind went through a well-thought out plan.If anyone resists, I'll shoot 'em. Another voice rang out through the crowd. Oh, my God. There were armed men in the building! My insides went cold and my breathing started to pick up. Do it. Make the move. There were four of them!"Riley, are you sure you're okay?" Barry asked. I looked around trying to find the sources of the thoughts. Then I found them. There were four men standing by the front door. And they were very shady looking."Barry, can I talk to you somewhere a little less crowded?" I asked with urgency. Oh, my God. It's going to happen! He nodded and I pulled him to a small corner where it wasn't crowded by people."What's up? You look freaked out." He looked at me. My breathing picked up as I saw the four men surveying the area. "Riley, breathe." Barry put his hands on my shoulders. "Big, deep breaths, Riley. What's going on?" I took three deep breaths and looked up at him."Do you ever get a feeling you know something bad is going to happen?" I asked seriously. He was hesitant."Yeah," He replied slowly. "What's going on?""I can't exactly explain it, but something bad is going to happen." I looked around and began to panic. "I've got a really bad vibe about it.""How do you know this?" He asked. She seems really sure and serious about this. And terrified as well. Could she be…?"I can't really explain. All I know is that something bad is going to happen." I bit my lip. "You work with the police, right? Text Eddie or Iris's dad there's four guys staking out the place.""Riley, do you realize how crazy this sounds?""Will you shut the fuck up and listen to me before it's too late?" I snapped at him. "People are going to get hurt if we don't do something." Barry's expressions suddenly became serious."And you're sure about this?" He asked."Absolutely." I nodded. Barry bit his lower lip and looked at me seriously."Which four men?""Over by the front door. They've been standing around there since we started playing." I replied. Barry looked in that direction."No matter what happens, you stay with Iris." He instructed."What are you going to do?""If anything happens, someone needs to be able to contact the police." He replied. "I'm going to call Detective West. Now, stay with Iris." I swallowed nervously. "You're going to be fine.""I hope you're right." Barry pulled me into a hug."You're gonna be fine." He replied. "Be safe." Barry then let me go and gently pushed me towards Iris. As I walked towards her, the four men began to make their move.Then all hell broke loose. Gunshots were fired into the air and people began to scream."Ladies and gentlemen, this a robbery!" One of them announced."On the ground, now!" Another ordered. Everyone scrambled to sit down. I scrambled to sit close to Iris."Riley?" Fear filled Iris's eyes. "Are you okay?""I'm fine. Are you okay?""I'm fine." She replied and looked around. "Where's Barry?""He went outside to get some air." I replied. "He went out the back door. He's lucky he got out before this happened.""Barry's smart. If he heard gunshots, he'll call my dad and tell him what's going on." Iris bit her lip in worry. I looked around to try to find Adam, Nat, Chloe, Todd, and Matt. They were close to the platform all huddled up with each other."Now if you all cooperate, this will be painless." The big burly robber said."And if you don't," The other threatened. "It won't be painless." Several people whimpered and sobbed in fear. Terrified voices ran through my mind as I looked around me. We're gonna die here. God, we're gonna die! This can't be happening! Someone help us! Please! I looked over at Iris. Please find us, Flash. Please help us. Please, please, please help us! "Everyone pull out your valuables and place them on the counter!" The head robber instructed. "Don't even think about trying to call the cops!" Everyone was paralyzed in fear. The robber took his gun and fired into the air again, sending everyone in a panic. "NOW!" He bellowed. We didn't hesitate. We pulled our valuables out, which included our phones, and placed them on the counter and sat back down. We had no way of contacting the police. We were completely helpless.I hugged my knees tight. Every second that ticked by felt like an eternity. I was too scared to focus on one thing to block everyone's thoughts out. The four robbers gathered around the register and forced the barista to open it, giving them all the money that was in it."Tom, go guard the back entrance. If anyone tries to get in or out, shoot 'em. We're not done here yet." The head guy ordered. One of the robbers headed to the back entrance where Barry had exited not too long before. One robber guarded the front entrance while the other two went into the owner's office to try to break into the safe."We're going to get out of this." Iris spoke softly."How do you know?" I asked."The Flash will come. He'll save us. He hasn't let us down yet.""Stop talking!" The man at the door ordered and went back to guarding the door. There was a faint sound of sirens getting closer and closer. "Shit!" He exclaimed. "Wade, we gotta get out of here! We've got company!" The sirens grew louder and shortly, the front window was lit up with red and blue lights. The two robbers emerged from the office with their duffle bags full of cash."This is Captain David Singh of the CCPD!" An amplified voice called from outside. "We have the place surrounded!" A tiny wave of relief passed through me. Barry got through to them!"Shit!" The one called Wade exclaimed. "Which one of you called the cops?" He demanded. "Which one?" No one spoke."This one here looked like she suspected something from the beginning." The robber who went into the office with Wade spoke. My eyes widened in horror. Were they talking about me?Oh, God, Iris was mortified. Suddenly I was yanked forcefully to my feet."Let me go!" I struggled against them, but it was no use. The robber had my arms pinned back painfully."Is that so?" Wade approached me with a snarl. He looked up and down at me. "The guitarist, eh?" He loomed near my face. His breath smelled rancid as he drew close to my face. "How did you know?""I don't know." I croaked, shaking in the robber's grip."Huh? I didn't catch that.""I don't know." I spoke louder."I can't hear you!""I said I don't know!" I cried, feeling tears escape. Wade drew a blade and pressed it to my neck, feeling the stinging kiss. I closed my eyes as more tears fell."I'm giving you one last chance." He threatened. I kept my eyes closed, my breathing ragged. I was quiet for a few moments. "I'm waiting.""I don't know." I said quietly. I accepted my fate. If I were to die right here and now, so be it. My few regrets? I wish I made things better with my mom. I wish I called them earlier and told them how much I love them. I wish I told Anna how much I love her. I wish I knew what was going through Barry's mind. Was he in love with Iris or was he starting to like me? I held my breath, waiting for the end.Keep her safe. Get her out of here, a loud and very familiar voice rang through my head. In that brief moment my mind was the quietest it had ever been. There was a rush of air and the pressure of the blade disappeared. The harsh grip was replaced by a gentle one. It was strong and firm, but gentle."You're okay." A strange voice spoke. "You're safe. Open your eyes." I opened my eyes to find a figure clad in red leather looking at me. His face was covered in a cowl-like mask of some sort. It was him! The Flash!"I…" I stammered. He gave me a smile."You're welcome." He spoke in that strange voice. Then he disappeared in a bolt of lightning and a gust of wind. I looked around me. I was outside. More importantly I was outside by the police. The lights were blinding and there was a commotion of several officers running towards me."Ma'am, are you okay?" One of them asked. I looked up to find an officer before me. "Ma'am?""What happened?" I felt disoriented."You were saved by the Flash." The officer explained. "Are you hurt?" I tried to speak, but no words came out."She's got a shallow cut on her neck." Another officer spoke. "We should get her some medical attention." There was another commotion coming from Jitters, but suddenly the four robbers appeared at the curb all tied up with the Flash standing by."Officers," He spoke. "Make sure these four have a comfy cell." Cheers and applause exploded around us at the victory. The Flash stood there for a bit with a smile on his face. Then he disappeared in a flash of yellow lightning.The few officers around me assisted me in getting over an ambulance that was waiting by."This one was hurt during the hostage situation." One of the officers informed a medic. The medic immediately guided me over to the back of the ambulance and sat me sit down on the ledge."What happened?" The medic asked as she grabbed supplies."One of the robbers…." I swallowed. "He had a knife and he held it to my neck. He cut it, but I don't know how deep." The medic gently lifted my chin and examined my cut."It's not too deep, and it's not a serious wound." She said. "You won't need stitches, but I can patch you. Have they hurt you anywhere else?""One guy had my arms pinned back pretty painfully, but those will probably end up as bruises." I replied. The medic pulled some gloves on and pulled a kit out, proceeding to clean my injury."Physically, you'll be fine." She explained. "But given what happened, it might be good to talk to a trauma counselor." I nodded. She cleaned it up and put a gauze on it. "All finished. Just keep that clean and it will heal nicely.""Thank you.""Detectives, she's all yours." She informed. "Take it easy, okay?" I nodded. Two men in suits approached me. I immediately recognized one of them."Riley!" Eddie rushed over to me. "Oh, my God, are you okay? Where's Iris?""I-I don't know. She might still be inside." I answered. A large dark skinned followed closely behind Eddie. That must be Iris's dad."You know her, Eddie?" The man asked."Yeah, Joe." Eddie nodded. "This is Riley Lewis. She did the photo session Iris and I had a few days ago. Iris helped her get a job at CCPN.""So this is the photographer that Barry talks about." The man called Joe agreed. "I'm Detective West, Iris's father.""Nice to meet you." I said."Is it okay if we ask you a few questions on what happened here?" Detective West asked. "We're collecting statements from witnesses so we can put these sons of bitches away.""I don't mind." I took a deep breath as he pulled a pad out."What happened exactly?" Detective West asked in a gentle tone."We just finished playing our first set and we were going on a break." I began. "My band that I'm in was playing at Jitters tonight as a gig to earn some money. Anyway, I walked over to Barry and Iris to talk to them for a little while. Just asking how things were. Then Barry offered to buy me a drink and I agreed."Good kid, He noted."We talked some more at the counter and then an ex-boyfriend of mine showed up. We caught up with what we've been up to since we've broken up.""And how long ago was that?""Four months.""Then what happened?""After he left, Iris came back and started talking to Barry. I tuned out of their conversation and looked at what was going on around me. Everything seemed normal until I saw the four robbers by the front door. They were guarding it and didn't really speak to anyone, so I thought that was a little suspicious. Especially since they were like that since we started playing.""You're observant." He commented. "That's very good.""Their posture and body language was all stiff and they looked like they were planning something. I asked Barry if I could talk to him and then Iris went off to talk to someone. He asked what was going on and I explained the situation. He didn't seem to believe me at first until he saw the four of them." I continued."Then Barry called me explaining what was going on and that's when the gunshots were fired." Detective West added his part."The four robbers said it was a robbery so we all got down on the floor. They told us if we cooperated, none of us would get hurt. They told us to take our valuables and phones out so we couldn't call for help. We didn't move so they fired off a gun again to get us moving.""Was anyone hurt?" He asked."No, they didn't hurt anyone. Then they took everything out of the registers and took what was in the safe of the owner's office. Then the police showed up and they freaked out. They were trying to figure out who called the cops. One guy was at the back entrance so no one could come in or out. One was at the front entrance, and the other two were looking at all of us. Then one points out how I was watching them earlier and they grabbed me. They tried to get me to talk in how I knew, but I told them I didn't know. Then the leader pulls a knife out and presses it into my neck and cut it enough to make me bleed a little." I went on, reliving the horrific moment again. Tears fell down my face and my voice shook. "I thought I was going to die. Right then and there I thought that would be the end. I accepted that and closed my eyes as the knife went a bit deeper, but then he was there. The Flash was there and he saved me. He saved everyone in there.""Hey," Eddie said gently. "You're safe. It's all over. You helped save a lot of people tonight by noticing them before anyone else did." I let out a shaky breath. "You did real good and helped by keeping this from becoming worse. You did a good thing, Riley."Way to go, Barry. Way to keep them safe. Especially this one, Detective West thought. "Thank you for your help, Miss Lewis. Now, I think some friends of yours are wanting to see you." He beckoned a small group forward. It was Nat, Adam, Matt, Todd, and Chloe."Riley!" They clamored around me. They were all in hysterics, especially Nat. Her mascara was running down her face and her eyes were red from crying so hard."Oh, my God, are you okay?" Nat pulled me into a hug and I buried my face into her shoulder."I'm fine." I shook in her arms."You're okay." Nat soothed. "You're safe." She rubbed my back in comfort."Riley?" A voice called my name. I looked up for the source and found Barry darting around officers to reach me. "Riley!" I let go of Nat and ran towards him. When we reached each other, he engulfed me in an embrace. "Oh, my God. Are you okay?" Relief washed over me as we stood there in each other's arms and the scent of his cologne helped me relax."I'm okay." I shakily replied. Barry kept his arms locked around me and he out a shaky sigh of relief."You were right." He spoke in gentle tones. "You were right, but we got 'em. God, I was worried sick about you.""I'm fine." I said again, burying my face into his chest. I felt weak and tired. All I wanted to do was to go home and get what sleep that would come. That's all I wanted. "I want to go home." I shook."Okay." He replied softly. "We'll get you home." I kept my face buried as Barry continued to hold me. I felt very safe in his arms. The safest I've been in a long while. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It was well past midnight before we were all able to go home. Adam and Nat offered to bring my stuff home later because they could see how exhausted I looked. I just wanted to go back home. As Barry was gathering evidence from the crime scene, it seemed as if he could sense my distress. He worked quickly and methodically in gathering evidence. I hardly spoke as the commotion passed around me.Is she going to be okay? Nat thought as she kept an arm around me."Riley?" Barry spoke gently. I looked up at him. "We need to get you home. You look completely drained." I nodded wearily. That's all I wanted. "I can take you home if you'd like. I may not own a car, but I do have my license." I nodded again."I trust you with my car." I said."Just give me ten minutes to pack my stuff up and then we can go." Barry agreed. As he left to pack up his CSI equipment, Nat gathered my stuff from inside Jitters."You've got yourself one hell of a good man, Riley." Nat gave me a weary smile. I grinned wearily back. I slung my bag over my shoulder and she helped me to my car. Iris also walked beside with a cautious gaze."You feeling okay?" Iris asked."I'm just really tired and sore." I nodded."I'll call Mr. Larkin and let him know what happened. Take it easy, okay? Barry should be here in a bit to take you home.""Okay." I nodded. My phone rang from my bag and I fished it out. It was my dad."Hi, Dad." I answered."Riley? Are you okay? We saw what happened on the news. We were worried sick about you!" My dad spoke frantically."I'm fine. Just a little cut up and bruised." I assured."The news said that you guys were saved by the Flash.""Yeah, he did." I spoke quietly. "How's Mom?""Do you want to talk to her? She might feel more relieved hearing from you.""That's fine." I agreed. There was a small movement on the other end."Are you okay, sweet pea?" I heard my mom's frantic voice."For the most part." My voice shook a little. "I got caught up in a hostage situation.""Did they hurt you?" She asked with worry. I was silent for a few moments. "Riley, did they hurt you?""They, um," I took a deep breath. "They grabbed me and one guy held my arms behind my back. They thought I had something to do with calling the police because I saw them act suspicious before everything went down.""Did you call the police?""No. They only grabbed me because I was looking at them a lot.""What else happened?""I wasn't talking much so the leader pulled a knife out and threatened me." My voice wavered. "He, um…held it to my neck and cut it a little.""Oh, my God." Mom started to break down."It's not a serious gash." I tried to reassure her. "The Flash got there before anything serious could've happened.""We could've lost you." I could hear her sobbing."You didn't, though." I smiled weakly. "I'm still here.""We will forever be in debt to that hero." She replied after some silence. "Are you going to be okay?""Yeah." I sighed wearily. "I've got a friend driving me home.""And who would that be?""His name is Barry." I explained. "I met him through a few clients of mine and we hit it off.""Has he taken you out to lunch yet?""Yeah," I chuckled tiredly. "We went out for Chinese yesterday and he paid for it.""He seems like a good man.""He is." I agreed, looking out the window to find Barry walking towards the car. "I've got to go, Mom. We're going to be leaving in a bit.""All right, sweetie." She sighed. "We'll stop by later tomorrow to check up on you.""Okay." I agreed."I love you." She said. "And your father loves you, too.""I love you both, too.""Take it easy tonight. Call us if you need anything.""Okay. Bye, Mom.""Bye, Riley." She spoke. Then I hung up. I sat in silence and let out a sigh. Barry was right outside talking to Nat. There were a few nods and hand gestures. After a bit Nat gave him a small smile and walked off. Barry opened the door and climbed in, sticking his stuff in the back."Ready?" He asked. I nodded and handed him the key. "Nat gave me directions to your apartment.""Don't kill us, okay?" I buckled in."I won't." He promised. "I may be rusty, but I can drive a car." He buckled in and started the car, then pulled out of the parking lot."How do you get around with no car?" I asked."I take the metro mostly." Barry replied. "And I occasionally run." A lot. "It's one less car on the road putting out carbon monoxide." God, really, Barry? Really? No, stay out of his head."Smart move." I mused, looking ahead and fell silent. The silence was pretty comforting. Occasionally I would sneak a glance at him out of the corner of my eye. I also did the best I could to block his thoughts out."How are you feeling?" He asked gently. "I mean like really feeling.""I hurt all over." I numbly answered. "I feel numb about everything, and everything is a little overwhelming.""Understandable." He agreed. "Did they hurt you?""I'm going to have sore arms and neck for the next few days.""What did they do?" His grip on the wheel tightened."One guy pinned my arms behind my back and another pressed a knife against my neck. It's not a serious wound, though." Barry's grip was so tight his knuckles turned white."I'm glad you're safe." He spoke after a few moments of silence."I have the Flash to be thankful for." I replied. "He got us out of there.""You should thank him the next time you see him.""I should, but I don't think he does house visits." I replied."You never know." He shrugged. After that we really didn't talk much on the rest of the way to the apartment. I was okay with the silence. I didn't really feel like talking much after everyone kept bombarding me with questions. Barry finally pulled into the parking lot and parked it, shutting the engine off. "Voila." He grinned. "Made it in one piece and not a single scratch.""I'm impressed." I smiled tiredly."It helps to focus when the owner is sitting right next to you." He smiled weakly back, then fell silent for a moment. "Let's get you inside. You look like you're going to pass out on me." I nodded and unbuckled, dragging myself out of the car with my bag. Barry got out, grabbing his stuff and locked the car before handing me my keys. "Lead the way." As I took a step I felt my legs give way a little, but Barry was quick to catch me. "You okay?" I nodded."Sorry for falling on you." I apologized wearily. Barry only smiled."It's okay." He shrugged it off. "All of the adrenaline is leaving you and exhaustion is setting in." He helped me stand up and we began our walk to the front door. "So how long have you been living here?""Almost a year." I yawned. "It's not too bad. Rent's somewhat affordable for a one bedroom apartment and the utilities are paid for. They dropped the prices a bit after the explosion at S.T.A.R. Labs because a lot of people moved out and were worried if there were any affects from the explosion.""You stayed." He noted."I did." I agreed with a small nod. "I didn't really have a whole lot of options that were pet friendly." We reached the front door and Barry held it open for me."After you." He said."Thanks." I gave a small smile. "So what about you?""It's going to sound lame but," He flushed a little red. "I live with Joe.""It's not lame." I shook my head as we walked to the elevator. "You're a work a lot, so why spend a good chunk of money for a place you won't be at very much?""Somebody understands!" Barry let out a huge sigh of relief. "You're the least judgmental person I've ever met.""I do my best to keep an open mind." I shrugged, calling the elevator."Well, thank you." He smiled."I try." The doors slid open. We climbed into the elevator and I pressed the button for the ninth floor. There were only ten floors before roof access. Where my unit is located is a good spot, apart from occasional noise from above and below."Ninth floor?" Barry asked. I nodded."Apartment nine twenty-one." I stated as the doors closed and we began to move."You know," Barry began after a few moments of silence. "I imagined a completely different scenario in seeing your apartment for the first time." Then he flushed at what he said. "I-I- I mean a less scary reason of why…what I'm trying to say is…" He slipped his hands into his pockets."You wish the reason why we're going to my apartment wasn't because of the events of tonight and making sure I'm safe." I cleaned it for him. He smiled."Exactly." He agreed. "It's not weird…is it?""No, not at all." I replied. "I think the same thing. Though, I appreciate you're making sure I'm safe.""It's the least I can do." Barry said as the doors slid open. We walked out and headed towards my unit."God, Link is probably flipping out right now." I sighed, pulling my keys out. "He gets a little anxious if I've been gone for a while." Barry let out an amused chuckle."So do you know anyone around here?""Just my neighbor Thalia." I replied as I led the way. "She lives across the hall from me.""And no one else?""Everyone else is out working, partying, sleeping, doing drugs, or God knows what else what. I don't really see them, nor do I care." The evens were on the left side and the odds were on the right. "We're almost there." I said as we passed unit 913.Fifteen….seventeen…nineteen…twenty-one, Barry counted as we walked. I pulled myself out of his mind quickly before I heard anything else. No, stay out of his head! I was losing my control."Here we are." I announced as we reached the door. I took my keys and unlocked the door. "Do you want to come in?""Sure." He was hesitant at first. I opened the door and turned a lamp on, leading the way in. Barry followed and closed the door behind him."Home sweet home." I put my stuff aside and a black mass darted out of my room. I almost screamed if the mass didn't jump on to the couch. I let out a sigh of relief. "God, Link, you scared the shit out of me." Link gazed at me with his yellow eyes and meowed. I walked over and picked him up. "You can set your stuff down, Barry.""Oh." He snapped back to reality. "Right." Then he set his case down as I walked over to him."Barry, this is Link." I introduced. Barry held his hand out to let Link smell him."He's cute." He smiled as he scratched him behind his ears. The cat closed his eyes and purred. "Hi, bud." After Barry stopped petting him, I put Link on the couch. "Nice place.""It's not much, but it's home." I shrugged. I pointed out to him where everything was at, including my bedroom where he suck a peak."Geek lair?" He smiled."Very much." I nodded."I like it." His eyes wandered over to my easel where I currently had a painting in progress. Against the wall were a few other paintings I completed. "Did you paint all of these?" I nodded. "Can I look?""Go ahead." I said. "I'm going to go change, though.""Okay." He walked over to them as I headed to my room and shut the door. As I peeled out of my clothes, my mind kept flashing back to tonight. I could still feel the blade on my neck and the fear that paralyzed me. I changed into my Hufflepuff sweatpants and a shirt that read 'I do marathons…on Netflix'. I walked back out into the living room where Barry was waiting."Your paintings are really good. They're amazing." He spoke as he turned around. I stared at Barry and tried to speak, but nothing came out. "Riley? You okay?""I thought I was going to die tonight." I managed to speak. "I thought I was done for." Barry walked up and pulled me into a hug. I completely broke down in his arms."It's okay." He gently spoke. "You're safe. Just let it out.""I keep seeing him every time I close my eyes." I sobbed. I wondered why I didn't cry after being rescued. I hadn't fully registered how close to death I was until now."You're safe." He murmured. "I'm right here. Nothing is going to happen to you." I held on to Barry. "Do you have any tea you want me to make?""Um," I hiccupped after calming down. "Sure. I've got some in the cabinets in the kitchen." I hiccupped again."Okay." He smiled at me and took my hand. "Let's go get you some tea." We walked to the kitchen where Barry spent a few minutes locating cups and the tea. He pulled out two mugs and two bags of Sleepy Time tea. I took the kettle and filled it with water, then stuck it on the stove to heat it up. Barry walked over to me and pulled me into a hug again."Can you stay?" I asked, my voice slightly muffled."Of course." He replied."I know it's a weird question to ask, but I don't know if anything runs this late and I don't want you to walk home this late." The truth was that I was afraid of being alone."It's not a weird question." He gently rubbed my back. "To be honest, I was concerned about leaving you alone tonight.""That makes two of us." I sighed, relaxing into his arms."I'll stay." He rested his chin on top of my head. "I'm not going anywhere." Once the water boiled, Barry poured it into the mugs and steeped the tea bags. As he did that, I headed back into my room to grab a pillow off of my bed and a few blankets from my closet for Barry to use. When I walked back to the living room he was sitting on the couch with the two mugs of tea before him; coat hanging up and his shoes were lined up neatly by the door."I brought you a pillow and some blankets." I said while putting them beside the couch. Then I sat down next to Barry and took my tea."Thank you." He took his mug as well and eyed my collection of games I had for my Xbox. "I never took you for the gaming type." I raised a brow."You saw my geek lair." I sipped my tea."And?" Barry pointed out. "Someone could be incredibly geeky with TV shows, movies, comic books, and not play games.""Well, I happen to be the type that plays games as well." I stated. Barry took a closer look at them."You play Assassin's Creed and Skyrim?" He gaped at me."Yeah, so?" I shrugged. "I'm a level sixty wood elf who is in charge of the Thieves' Guild. Still have a ways to work on it, though.""Oh, my God, that is incredibly attractive." He breathed."Plus if I'm having a shitty day, I take all of that stress out on Templars and guards." I added. "It's quite stress-relieving actually." Barry browsed more through my games."Both Portal games, years one through seven in Lego Harry Potter, Lego Lord of the Rings, Lego the Hobbit, Desolation of Smaug, all of the Assassin's Creed series, Mirror's Edge…" He trailed off. "Red Dead Redemption…""That one's incredibly glitch with humans and animals, but it's quite hilarious.""Like the cougar man, bird people, donkey lady, and the flying bears?" Barry's eyes shone with excitement."Don't forget the catapulting horse carriages.""Oh, my God, I'm impressed." He sat back on the sofa."I aim to please." I drank more of my tea."How impressive is your taste in Netflix?" He eyed suspiciously while drinking his tea."How I Met Your Mother, Firefly, Scrubs, Psych, Heroes, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Doctor Who, the IT Crowd, the Walking Dead, Supernatural, and Sherlock.""I think you'd be Cisco's new best friend." He chuckled. "And if he ever goes to Comic Con, you'd be the first person he'd ask to go.""Seriously? He's into all of that?""He's in skin deep." Barry nodded. "Like, sell your soul to the devil just to go to Comic Con.""San Diego's on my bucket list." I put in."I'll keep that in mind." He mused thoughtfully. After we talked a bit I decided to turn an episode of How I Met Your Mother on. Barry seemed pretty into it."If you wake up with a cat on your face, I'm sorry." I yawned, fighting to stay awake. Barry chuckled in amusement."It's okay if you fall asleep." He said. "I'm surprised you've made it this long, actually.""You sure?" I mumbled sleepily."I'm sure." He agreed. I scooted close to him and rested my head on his shoulder."Barry?""Hmm?""You have a comfy shoulder." My eyelids drooped, eventually closing shut. I heard Barry chuckle in amusement before completely succumbing to the sleep.I slept soundlessly throughout the night. When I woke up, I found myself in my bed. How did I get here? The last thing I remember was sitting on the couch with Barry and…Barry! I quickly got out of bed and headed to the living room. The pillow and blankets I let Barry use were folded neatly on the couch. Barry was nowhere in sight."Thank God you're finally awake." Nat came out of the kitchen. "I thought you would sleep all day.""What time is it?" I asked."A quarter after twelve." She replied. "I brought your stuff over this morning. Barry helped bring them in." I noticed my guitars, amp, and tub of cords off to the side. "He wanted to stay, but he had to go to the police station. He said he would come back later when he's done, though." I felt a sinking feeling in my chest. "So what did you two do when he brought you home?""I showed him around." I began to explain. "Then I changed into my pajamas, we made some tea, talked, tried to watch How I Met Your Mother, but I fell asleep on him, and that was it. Pretty sure he carried me to my bed.""You didn't kiss?" She sounded disappointed. I shook my head."No, but he did hold me when I cried from overcoming the shock." I replied."That's sweet." Nat gushed."Yeah." I smiled sheepishly. Nat's eyes went wide."You really like him." She squealed. "Oh, my God, you really like him. You do because you're blushing!""I do." I flushed."More important things; are you okay after last night?""Yeah, I'm fine." I nodded. "I'm going to grab a quick bite and shower. My parents are coming over later to check on me." I headed into the kitchen to fix myself something. "So what happened with you and Adam after Jitters?""Not a whole lot." Nat replied. "We got your stuff, headed home, took a shower, and went to bed.""No sex?" I raised my brows."No sex." She shook her head. "We were too freaked out and worried about you.""Understandable." I agreed, pulling some ham from the fridge and bread from the pantry."The police are probably going to want us at the trial. Especially you." I pulled two slices of bread out and some ham from the package."Because it'll be my word against them." I nodded as I made my sandwich."Then they'll put those bastards behind bars for good." I was silent for a bit. "You okay, Riley?""I am, but I'm not." I put the ham and bread away. "We were held hostage last night and I had a knife held to my neck and it cut it a little bit. I have bruises on my arms from where they grabbed me and every time I close my eyes I can still see that bastard." Nat came up and hugged me."You didn't die." Nat spoke softly. "You were saved by the Flash. You are damn lucky on that." I gave a weak smile. "What was he like?""Fast." I replied. Nat whack my playfully on the arm."No shit, Sherlock." She laughed. "What else?""Very warm." I described. "But he was strong and gentle. He made me feel safe.""Do you think you'll ever see him again?""I hope so. I have to thank him for saving my life.""I'm sure you'll get that opportunity" Nat smiled. After I ate my sandwich I had a small serving of chips. Then after that I took a much-needed shower. I scrubbed, shaved, and rinsed off. With a towel wrapped around me, I headed into my room and changed into jeans and a Doctor Who t-shirt. As I finished changing, my phone rang."Hello?" I answered."Is this Riley Lewis?" A man asked from the other end."Yes, this is Riley.""Riley, it's Eric Larkin from CCPN." The man spoke. Oh, my God, it was my boss."Hi, Mr. Larkin." I greeted."How are you doing? I heard about what happened last night." Mr. Larkin asked."I'm a little banged up, but I'm okay." I replied."Are you sure? That was traumatic event. If you need some time off to recover I'm more than willing to do so.""No, sir, I'm fine." I reassured him. "I'm a little banged up, but you can expect me to be there tomorrow.""Are you sure?""Absolutely sure.""Well, rest up tonight and take it easy." Mr. Larkin replied."Will do, sir." I agreed."All right, have a good day and I'll see you tomorrow.""You, too, Mr. Larkin." Then we hung up."Who was that?" Nat asked, popping her head in."My boss making sure I'm okay.""Well that was nice of him." She replied as I walked out. I shrugged."He said he heard about last night and said if I needed time to recover he would let me.""And?""I told him I'd be at work tomorrow." I replied. "Want to make a good first impression.""I swear you being a perfectionist is going to be your downfall someday." Nat replied with some bitterness."My bad, I like to work hard so I do a good job at something." I plopped on the couch. Link jumped up and sat in my lap. "I just try so hard to make everything perfect.""Everything can't be perfect, though." Nat sat next to me. "Just take things easy or you'll burn yourself out.""Okay." I reluctantly agreed. We sat around for the rest of the day and my parents stopped by with food they had made for dinner. They were constantly fretting about me, but I assured them I was fine. They did leave eventually somewhere close to five. Mom had to get some work done and Dad was preparing an example for a project he was teaching to his students. Nat had to leave as well, but she gave me a hug."Barry should be here soon." She smiled. "Good luck tomorrow.""Thanks." I gave her a small smile. "Good luck with Adam.""And you take it easy." She replied. I nodded in agreement and she left. I was alone for about an hour until there was a knock at the door. Curious, I looked in the peephole and my heart skipped a beat. It was Barry. I opened the door and he stood there smiling at me."Hey." I hitched a breath, smiling at him."Hi." He was still smiling." I would've come earlier, but I got held up at work.""It's not a problem." I folded my arms over my chest. "You didn't miss anything except my parents were over for a bit." Barry slipped his hands into his pockets."I wanted to make sure you were okay." He explained."I'm doing better today, thanks." I replied. "Do you want to come in?""Sure." He smiled. I moved out of the way for him to come in. Barry walked in and I closed the door behind him."Have you had dinner yet?" I asked. "My parents brought a big ol' container of chicken gnocchi my mom made. It's my comfort food.""Is it Olive Garden worthy?""Even better." I headed into the kitchen as Barry followed."Oh, my God, yes!" He exclaimed. "Your mom is officially awesome in my book.""Just because she made gnocchi?""Because the best way to a man's heart is through his stomach." Barry grinned. Wow, Mom wasn't kidding when she said that."I will keep that in mind." I quipped as I dished two bowls of gnocchi out. Then I stuck them both in the microwave for a few minutes. "Do you want anything to drink?""Sure, what do you have?" He asked."Iced tea, lemonade, some Arbor Mist Blackberry wine, some juice, some Dr. Pepper and Mountain Dew, and water from the tap." I studied the shelves in the fridge."Iced tea is fine." He replied. I pulled the jug out and poured it into two cups. I handed Barry a glass then pulled the soup from the microwave." Thank you." He took a bowl."Feel free to help yourself to as much as you want. My mom made more than enough." I took a spoonful of the soup and ate it. Barry took a bite and closed his eyes."Oh, my God." He groaned. "This is delicious." He took another bite."Do you need to be left alone?" I giggled."Maybe." Barry flashed smile. I let out an amused chuckle. "But it's just so damn good." We sat down at the table and continue eating dinner. It was quiet at times, but we continued talking. After we ate we cleaned up. Barry decided to be a gentleman and wash the dishes for me."You don't have to do that." I began to protest. Barry shook his head."No, I got it." He replied. "You offered dinner and this is me saying thanks.""You don't have to." I tried to reason with him, but it was no good. Barry blocked me from the sink with his body."Try all you want, but it's not going to work." He smirked. "You know, most women would be happy if a guy did the dishes for her.""Well I'm not most women." I chuckled. "I do appreciate the gesture, though.""You're welcome." Barry gave a small smile. You're right. You're not like most women, but that's what I like about you."Well if you're washing, then I'm drying." I grabbed a towel from the drawer I keep rags in."Good enough for me." He agreed. I grabbed a dish and proceeded to dry and put it away. "So you're ready for tomorrow? First day at CCPN, right?""Yeah, tomorrow's my first day." I nodded. "Nervous, but ready for it. At least I'd have a paying job, according to my mom.""Yet she married an art teacher." I replied. "Still baffles me.""She'll come around.""Hopefully.""She will." Barry replied. "I'm sure of it." We continued to do the dishes together. Suddenly Barry took a handful of bubbles and blew it in my face. A little bit landed on my face and he laughed. I took my towel and tossed it at him."Jerk." I laughed. Barry took the towel and threw it back at me, then blew more bubbles at me. I laughed and wiped them off my face. He smiled at me. "What?" I asked."You missed a spot." He spoke while wiping his hands. He reached over hesitantly and gently wiped the rest away with his thumb. My skin tingled where he touched my cheek and I felt my face heat up. Barry looked away sheepishly. "Sorry.""You're fine." I reassured him."Okay." He quietly agreed. Too forward? Too soon? His mind fluttered with anxiety. I wish I could tell him, but I can't find the words. Again, we went back to cleaning up in silence. I could feel Barry's edginess seeping out. I wanted to tell him it was okay. Once we finished, Barry drained the sinks."Thank you." I spoke with gentleness."Yeah," He replied. "Any time." We walked out into the living room together where Link was perched on his tower. "I should probably head home." He let out a sigh. "I've got an early day tomorrow for work.""I can relate." I agreed."You sure you're feeling okay?""Yeah, I'm much better.""Just wanted to make sure you were okay after last night." He replied. "And to wish you good luck for tomorrow.""Thank you," I looked up at him. "For everything. I know I say it a lot, but I really do mean it." Barry looked down at me and smiled gently. He slowly took a hand and slipped his into mine. His thumb lightly ran across my knuckles and my heart sped up."Least I can do." He murmured. Barry was close enough that his breath tickled my face. His eyes were very green up close. I could feel us drawing close to each other. We were just inches away from each other and I closed my eyes.It never came. Instead there was a loud noise from Link as he jumped up on to the ledge of the couch and meowed loudly. We both jumped back, startled and breathing a little hard."Shit!" I gasped in alarm. Barry looked at Link and chuckled quietly."God damn it, Link." He still held my hand. I buried my face into his shoulder and laughed as well. Barry wrapped an arm around me and I could feel him smiling into my hair. "Your cat's a turd.""He just wants attention because I'm not giving him any." I chuckled. Barry kept his arms around me."I think he's jealous.""Knowing him? Probably." I mused, looking up at him. "He's used to being the only guy around here." I gave him a small smile and he smiled back."Good luck tomorrow.""Thank you." I replied. "You, too." Barry pulled me into a hug and I felt a soft kiss on my cheek. My face burned at the feeling."Call me if you need anything.""I will." I replied. He finally released me from the hug and he headed towards the door."Maybe we can hang out tomorrow afterward." He suggested, opening the door."I like that idea." I nodded."Okay." He agreed. "Goodnight, Riley.""Goodnight, Barry." I replied. He smiled, then closed the door behind him. I stood there smiling like an idiot. My hand went up to my cheek where I could still feel the kiss, tingling as if a current of electricity was running through it. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Sleep evaded from me again that night. I was too anxious about my first day and the fact that Barry kissed my cheek before he left. Frustrated with the lack of sleep, I got out of bed, grabbed my phone and guitar, and then headed to the roof. Sleep's evading me again. I sent Barry the text and waited for a reply, but never got one. I didn't expect to since it was late. I made my way to the roof with my guitar in hand. The night air was refreshing and cool when I stepped outside. I loved it up here. Central City was exceptionally beautiful at night with the lights dotting the streets. Even the shell of S.T.A.R. Labs looked majestic.I sat down on a wooden bench someone brought up to the roof before I first moved in. The wood creaked a bit as I sat down and pulled the pick out of the neck of the guitar. I strummed a few chords to check the tuning. After a few adjustments I settled with whatever came to me. The sound of my guitar brought a sense of peace to me. Every ounce of worry, stress, and frustration I had completely disappeared.I must've been out on the roof for at least an hour. It got colder and I finally grew tired so I headed inside. Link was curled up on my bed fast asleep when I climbed in. I gently scratched him behind the ears and he woke up sleepily. Once he saw who woke him up, he crawled up next to me and fell back asleep. He has it so easy. I was able to fall into a deep sleep, but nightmares plagued me.When I woke up to my alarm blaring at me, I felt stiff and sore all over. I didn't want to get up, but I had no choice. Unwillingly, I got up and got breakfast. I did my routine and fed Link his breakfast. Coffee was brewing in the pot while I scrounged the closet for something to wear. I found nice slim khakis, black Jerry Bootie lace up combat boots from Gordmans, a navy blue blouse, and my black leather jacket. I put on some deodorant and perfume I got from Avon. Nat was my Avon lady.When I finished getting ready, I brushed my hair and teeth, then grabbed a travel mug and filled it with coffee. After making sure that I had everything I needed, I set for my car. Once my door was locked, I headed down to the parking lot. The weather was chilly and unforgiving this morning. The cold nipped at my nose and stung my cheeks."Holy shit, it's cold." I shivered at the cold. I hurried to my car and unlocked it, then climbed in. I started the car and let it warm up a bit. My coffee was hot and refreshing as I sipped it. It warmed me up and sent a tingle through me.As I drove, my nerves started to hit me. My stomach felt like there was a weight of lead sitting at the bottom. Relax. That's all I needed to do. Everything is going to be completely fine. I heard my text notification and pulled my phone out. It was from Barry. Good luck today! You got this. I smiled to myself. Thanks! Now if only I could stop being so nervous I'd be fine. You'll be fine. We can get coffee later to celebrate your first day. I'd like that. Good luck. When I reached the CCPN parking lot, I pulled in and parked at an empty spot. Several cars were around me and people were arriving. I put the car in park and shut the engine off. My heart was pounding in my chest. I took a deep breath and grabbed my stuff, climbing out of the car. Cold air greeted me as I stepped out and shut the door."Riley!" A cheerful voice called my name. Turning around, I found Iris walking away from a car."Hey, Iris." I greeted with a smile."You ready?" She asked as she approached."I'm a little nervous, but yeah I'm ready." I replied."Mr. Larkin isn't that bad." She assured. "He's a really nice guy. As long as you do what you're told and get your work in on time, you'll be fine. Andrew's also a great photographer. He'll help you out and answer any questions.""Okay." I took a deep breath. Iris linked an arm around mine."We'll see Barry later." She grinned."Wha-?" I blushed."He doesn't shut up about you." She explained. "Plus, it's all over your face.""Is it that obvious?""Only if you know what you're looking for." Iris smiled. "When we take a lunch break, let's go get Thai food.""Sounds good to me." I agreed as we walked to the front entrance of CCPN. "Anyone I should watch out for?""Barry's ex, Linda Park, works in the sports section. She's nice, but really competitive. My advisor, Mason Bridge, can be a bit of a douche bag, but he's okay. Just watch out for Anna Brinkman in the advice column. She's a nasty piece of work." Iris explained."Duly noted." I sighed."You'll be fine." She noticed my nerves. We reached the front door and she held it open as I proceeded inside. CCPN was a very large open area with hardwood floors, plaster walls decorated with iconic articles, and dozens of cubicles where reporters were typing vigorously at their computers. One end was an open stock room. The other end had a small platform with a few steps. The other end had a small platform with a few steps. On the platform was a long glass conference table with several chairs around it. A few people were working away at the table on notepads. One man was standing at the end overseeing everything."This is it." Iris gestured around us. "That's Larkin over there." She followed my gaze. "We're a small place, but we still get what needs to be done." She led me over to where Larkin was at. He was an older gentleman with graying hair, blue eyes, and a bit of a gut. He appeared friendly, though. "Good morning, Mr. Larkin.""Ah, Iris," Larkin looked up with a smile. "Good morning to you, too. Any new stories about the Flash?""I have one in the works." Iris replied. I wish he'd give me other things to write about. I can write about on other things than just the Flash."Good to hear." Larkin smiled. "And you must be Riley." He stuck a hand out and I shook it."Yes I am." I greeted with a smile. "Nice to finally meet you, sir. And thank you for the job.""Thank Iris for pointing us in the right direction." Larkin chuckled."Oh I've made sure I've done that several times." I replied."Anything to help you out." She smiled."Let's get you set up." Larkin suggested."See you at lunch." Iris said. "Good luck, Riley." I followed Larkin over to the desks as Iris headed to her own desk."You'll be working with Andrew Peters, he's our other photographer. He's good, but his photos aren't as good from the ones Iris showed me that you took." He explained as we walked along. "For today, just shadow and he can show you the ropes.""Sounds like an excellent plan." I agreed."We're thrilled to have you here. Iris showed me your work and it's absolutely incredible. You really capture every minute detail. Perhaps you can help get an award winning shot of the Flash.""I'll do my best and I'm always up for a challenge.""That's the spirit!" Larkin enthused. "You don't see that much attitude with Andrew.""Well, I take my photography seriously." I shrugged."Good attitude." Larkin led me over to a man with copper hair and a lean build, staring intently at his monitor. "Andrew?" The man looked up. "This is Riley Lewis, the other photographer we recently hired. Can you show her around today and help get her set up?""Sure thing, Mr. Larkin." Andrew nodded."Great, I'll leave you to it." Larkin clasped his hands together. "Miss Lewis, if you need anything I'm right over there." He pointed in the direction of his desk."Duly noted." I nodded."Have a good day and welcome to CCPN." Larkin headed back to his desk. Andrew stood up and stuck a hand out."Hi." He greeted with a smile. "Andrew Peters. Welcome to CCPN.""Riley Lewis, pleased to meet you." I shook his hand."Forgive me, but I completely imagined you being different.""Such as me being a guy?""Umm." Andrew was hesitant. "Yeah, sorry about that.""Nah, you're fine." I reassured him. "I get that from time to time.""Great." He agreed. "So where did you go to school?""I went to CCU." I replied."Good school." Andrew agreed. "I went to Hudson. Class of 2010.""I've heard good things about Hudson." I noted. "It was one of the schools I was considering.""You missed out on so much!" He chuckled."We'll see on that." I chuckled as well."Let's get you set up." He instructed. "We've got an empty desk close by for you." He led me over to a small set of desks, one close to the wall. "Jodi Prescott from Foods will be your desk mate, but you'll still be working with me. Nearly all the photos you'll take will be for the front page if Larkin likes them enough. Or if anyone asks for a photo for an important article, no matter what section they're from, you'll take those as well.""So sporting events, festivals, stuff about the Flash..." I listed."Those would be perfect examples." Andrew nodded. "Larkin is huge on the Flash so if you get a good shot of him, Larkin will love you forever." Andrew took me on a tour of CCPN, showing where I'd be working at and what equipment I'd use. It was a lot to remember and very overwhelming, but after a few weeks I'm sure I could handle it. We worked together on proofs and he asked my opinion on photos to help get me started in what I'd do.According to him, I had a very good eye in picking out detail. By the time noon rolled around my stomach was growling for hunger. I waited around for Iris at my desk and she greeted me with a smile."How's it going so far?" Iris asked."Not too bad." I replied. "A bit overwhelming at times, but good overall.""That's good to hear." She nodded. "Ready for lunch?""Yeah, I'm starving." I grabbed my bag and swung it over my shoulder."Good, so am I." We headed towards the front door. As we made our way, I accidentally bumped into a woman with a small stack of folders. The contents spilled out and scattered all over the floor."Oh, my God, I'm so sorry." I apologized, stooping to my knees to help clean up my mess."You're fine, I wasn't paying much attention." The woman looked up. She had long, wavy dark hair with dark eyes, a slightly rounded face, and an annoyed expression she did her best to hide."No, it's my fault. I'm still trying to navigate around the place." I assured her."Ah, you're the new photographer." She realized. "I'm Linda Park. I work in Sports." My mouth went a little dry."I'm Riley Lewis." I replied. Linda stuck a hand out and I shook it."I see you already know Iris." She looked up and a quick flash of hostility was in her eyes."Linda." Iris nodded once."Iris." Linda returned. "How's Barry?""Barry's fine." Iris replied with some stiffness. There were a few moments of silence that were filled with tension. If it went any longer I swear a cat fight would've broke out."Well," I cleared my throat, handing Linda her papers. "It was nice to meet you, Linda. Sorry for bumping into you, again." Linda looked away from Iris and took her papers."It was nice to meet you, too." She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I'll see you around some time." She stood up and left. I stood up as well, not sure what to say."Sorry about that." Iris smiled apologetically. "Let's go get some Thai food.""Sure." I nodded and followed Iris out."We'll take my car." She led me to her vehicle. Iris unlocked her car and we climbed in, buckling our seatbelts. "Lind and I aren't exactly the best of friends as you may have noticed.""Yeah, I noticed that." I replied. "She's the one Barry dated, right?""Yeah, they dated for a while." Iris nodded as she started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. "To be honest, I didn't quite like the two of them together. She was really competitive and hard. I can understand that because of her job, but she was just really competitive.""I see." I nodded."She blames me for being the reason why they split.""Well, were you?""I don't know…maybe." She flushed. "Barry for a while liked me a lot, but I only saw him as a friend. Then he started to date Linda and he was really happy. Then it got hard for him to balance work and relationships. I'm only preparing you on this if your friendship becomes something more.""Understandable." I nodded."You're really good for Barry, though." Iris put in. "He talks about you all the time when we hang out. There's this light that flips on inside him when we talk about you or when you're around him. He was worried sick about you after the hostage situation at Jitters. When I was visiting him, my dad, and Eddie at work yesterday he kept pacing around his lab like a caged animal.""Really?" My eyes went wide."Really." Iris nodded. "You'd be able to give him something Linda wasn't able to.""What would that be?""Hope. Actual hope and happiness." Iris replied. If I had known earlier about how he felt about me, maybe I would've been with him instead of Eddie."Well hopefully it'll become that." I gave a hopeful smile."I hope so, too." Iris agreed. Eventually she pulled us into the parking lot of the restaurant and found a spot, shutting the car off. "God, I'm starving for food.""Same here." I replied as we got out of the car. Noodles sound really good right now. When we got inside it was a little bus, but we were able to order food. I placed my order of chicken Pad Thai while Iris placed her order. We got our drinks and then sat down at a table.We sat around and talked about random things; how Iris met Eddie, how Barry was struck by lightning and fell into a coma, how Harrison Wells took him to S.T.A.R. Labs, how Barry woke up after nine months, and the Flash. Iris wanted to know a little more about me so I told her about my family and how my sister was expecting with her third child. I talked about what my parents do for a living and how my mom and I have a strained relationship."She doesn't exactly approve of my photography business or my band." I sighed. "She wants me to be more like my sister.""I'm sorry to hear about that." Iris replied bitterly. "My mom passed away when I was little so I didn't have much of a relationship with her either." I noticed a gold band hanging on a chain around her neck."Is that her wedding band?" I asked."A replica." She nodded. "Barry gave it to me for Christmas. I lost my mom's original one on a field trip to the zoo when we were in the fifth grade.""That's thoughtful of him." I complimented. Our food arrived shortly after that and we ate away. The food was absolutely delicious and refreshing. We talked some more while we ate lunch. Iris's phone suddenly rang after we finished eating."Sorry." She smiled apologetically as she pulled it out of her purse."No, you're fine." I waved it away. She answered her phone."Iris West." She spoke. I looked out the window at the people walking by. "Hi, Mr. Larkin." Iris was quiet for a moment and her eyes widened. "What? Where? 1607 Winter Street? That's close to here." Iris looked at me. 'Get your camera ready'. She mouthed. "We're on it." Then she hung up."What's going on?" I asked as we stood up, quickly gathering our stuff."There's a fire over at Bowman Labs." Iris explained. Bowman Labs was a top notch researching science lab run by Dr. Victor Bowman. It was in competition with S.T.A.R. Labs and Mercury Labs, but because of the explosion, now only Bowman and Mercury are competing against each other. Rumor has it Bowman does unethical testing, but no one knows on what."The Bowman Labs? Run by Dr. Victor Bowman?""That's the one." She nodded. "If there's a disaster then there's a chance the Flash will be there. Plus an opportunity to get your feet wet." I scrambled and threw my trash away and we hurried out of the restaurant to Iris's car."Is it always like this?" I asked as we ran to her car and climbed in."Not always!" Excitement was in her eyes. "You're luck this happened on your first day. Mine sucked!" We buckled in and Iris started the car. I grabbed my camera bag and pulled the camera out, along with a lens. The more we drove, the more I felt excitement run through me. Within a few minutes we came around a corner and saw thick black smoke pouring from a very tall glass building. Enormous flames were licking the sides of the building on the top floors. People were screaming and scrambling to get to safety. The police put up barriers to prevent traffic getting close and firefighters were battling with the blaze."Oh, my God." Iris breathed. She pulled over to a clear spot and shut her car off. "Come on, you got your camera ready?" We unbuckled and scrambled out of the car."Ready to go." We ran down to the block to the edge of the barricade. The smell of smoke reached my nose as we approached."Stay back!" An officer ordered. "Behind the barriers!" I switched my camera on and waited frantically."Come on, come on, come on." I pleaded at my camera to move faster. Finally it was on and I proceeded to take pictures. My finger rapidly hit the button as I took multiple shots."Iris? What are you doing here? It's not safe!" Eddie's familiar voice spoke over the crowd. He approached us from between a few officers."Eddie!" Iris hurried over to her boyfriend. "We were out at lunch and Larkin called us." Eddie ran his fingers through his hair and sighed."Stay behind the barricade. Do not go in there under any circumstances." He ordered. "And that goes for you as well, Riley.""I plan on staying, intact, Detective Thawne." I gave a small smile.At least someone here cares about being safe, Eddie thought. Suddenly there was a huge explosion from the top few floors. More smoke and fire emerged from the building and glass rained down on us. Screams could be heard from up above."Oh, God." I looked in horror. "Eddie, people are still up there.""Oh, God…" He was mortified. There was a sudden gust of wind and a streak of yellow lightning trailed into the building. A rush of adrenaline ran through me as I held my breath."Come on, come on, come on." I pleaded quietly. Seconds felt like hours as we waited. Time passed by slowly as we stood still. About a minute later, the flames were extinguished. I let out a sigh of relief and I knew I wasn't the only one. Minutes later, people emerged from the building. People around us erupted into cheers. Almost distracted, I grabbed my camera again and started taking pictures rapidly. Then he came out.The Flash emerged from the building behind the people he saved. I rapidly took pictures, trying to get at least one shot of him. As I took them, I suddenly stopped. He was staring right at me. He was staring right at me and was smiling. I brought my camera down and looked straight back at him. The Flash nodded and then he sped off. I stood there completely dumbstruck."Riley," Iris got my attention. "Did you get anything?" I looked down at the camera screen. There on the screen was an image of the Flash walking out of the building and it was a clear shot. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- When we got back to CCPN Andrew was waiting by my desk. "I heard what happened." He spoke urgently. "Did you get anything?" "Yeah, I was able to get some shots." I nodded. "Great, I can't wait to see what you got." He replied. If she's as good as Larkin says, I might be looking at some competition. If she snagged a picture of the Flash, I might as well find a new job. Where's they find her, anyway? That Iris chick? She only got her job here because Larkin likes her blog. I felt a pang of anger hit me. I bottled everything in me to resist slapping him right there in front of everyone. Yet, I also felt guilty. "I'll send them to you later." I blinked, clearing my train of thought. "Sounds good." Andrew shrugged. "Take your time." I nodded in agreement. "I'll be at my desk if you need me." After he left, I sat in my chair and sighed. If I show Larkin my photo of the Flash, he'll flip. Then it'll risk Andrew to lose his job. If I don't show it, how else am I going to survive here? This isn't going to be fun. For the rest of the day I pulled the pictures I took from the Bowman fire off of my camera. I wasn't sure about the photo of the Flash so I stuck it on a personal flash drive I keep with me. I touched up the other photos a little bit and sent them to Andrew so he could look over them. He replied back saying that I did a good job and the photos looked great. When five rolled around, Iris and I were ready to leave to meet Barry and Eddie at Jitters. She offered to drive us there and I agreed. I was itching to see Barry again. "I think Barry's just as anxious to see you again." Iris chuckled in amusement. "God damn it, am I really that obvious?" I sighed with a frown. "Like I said earlier," Iris smiled. "Only if you know what you're looking for." After we said our goodbyes to our coworkers I once again headed out to Iris's car. We climbed in, bucked as the car was started, then drove to Jitters. "Did you get any good pictures today?" "Yeah, I got a few good ones." I replied. "I showed them to Andrew and he liked them." "With your pictures and my articles, we could make a pretty badass team." Iris grinned. "West and Lewis…" I said aloud, contemplating on it. "It has a nice ring to it." "Or Lewis and West." She pointed out. "Nah, West and Lewis is better. They always put the writer first." I disagreed. "You're too kind." Iris chuckled. She babbled on about her day as we headed over to Jitters. She was working on the story of the Bowman Corporate fire, but she had a side project going on. People were disappearing off the streets. So those rumors were true. "That place has some fishy people over there." Iris noticed my questioning look. "Ever since they opened their doors, people have been on their ass about unethical testing." "Such as?" "God, where to begin on that?" She sighed. "There are former employees who claimed their research was stolen or their projects at first were going to help the world. Now they said Bowman has a malicious intent of using them." "Like biochemical warfare?" "Exactly." She nodded. "Why doesn't anyone doesn't anyone do anything about it?" I asked. "Surely someone would have noticed and take action." "They would if Bowman didn't donate to Hudson University or supported the mayor's re-election campaign two years ago." Iris explained. "Ah," I realized. "That would do it." Iris nodded again. "When you're out and about," She cautioned. "Be extremely careful. Central City may not be Starling City, but there's still some pretty bad people out there." "Duly noted." I nodded in agreement. Iris pulled into the parking lot and parked the car before shutting the engine off. We climbed out of the car and headed inside where Barry and Eddie were waiting. My stomach flipped at the sight of Barry. "Hey, you two." Eddie greeted us. Eddie pulled Iris into an embrace and kissed her. "Hi, babe." Iris smiled at him. Barry gave me a dazzling smile and my heart sped up. "Hey." He smiled at me, casually rocking back and forth on his feet. "Hey, yourself." I smiled back and pulled him into a gentle hug. I felt a small buzz run through me. God, I missed her, Barry sighed. I almost wanted to tell him I missed him, too. We released each other, but couldn't help smiling at each other again. "So how was your first day?" He asked. "It was good." I replied. "A little overwhelming at times, but it was good." "And," Iris added. "Riley got to experience some action out in the field today." "Really now?" Barry raised his eyebrows. "Was it the Bowman fire?" I nodded. "She got some pretty good shots up there." Iris replied with a smile. "Sounds like a pretty good first day on the job." Barry agreed. "Not too bad." I also agreed. "Well I say this calls for some coffee." Eddie put in. We all agreed with him and headed over to the counter. "I'll pay for yours." Barry spoke. "My treat." "What? No, you don't have to do that." I began to protest. "Too late." He grinned as we approached the counter. I made a face at him, but he only laughed. "What can I get you this evening?" The barista asked. "I'll have a hazelnut mocha and whatever the lady wants." Barry ordered his. I blushed a little. "I'll have a vanilla latte." I ordered mine. "What, no caramel macchiato?" Barry raised his brows. "You did say 'Whatever the lady wants'." I pointed out. "Yes I did." He replied and paid for our coffee. "I deliberately planned that." "Sure you did." I laughed. We found a couch to sit at while Iris and Eddie ordered theirs. We plopped down and waited. "I saw the Flash today at the fire." I spoke. "Really?" He perked up a little bit. "I mean like I really saw him." I felt a grin sneak up. "He was coming out of the building after the fire was out and I was taking pictures." "And?" He asked with curiosity. "He looked right at me." "What? No way." "He did! I was taking pictures and he looked right at me and acknowledged I was there." Barry gave a skeptical look. "You're kidding." "I have proof." I pulled my laptop out. "Do you, now?" "I do." I turned it on and scooted close to him. His breath tickled my cheek as he looked down. I grabbed my flash drive and plugged it in. I pulled the photo up and showed Barry. He leaned in and looked at the screen. "Holy shit." He breathed. "You actually got him." Something flickered in his eyes. "Have you shown this to your editor?" "No." I shook my head looking at him. "Why not?" "It…doesn't feel right." I shrugged. "I feel like I got lucky on my first day. I feel like I should have to work for it instead of having it handed to me on a silver platter. And I'm getting the impression the photographer might not like me as much as I hoped." "What makes you think that?" Barry asked. "I think that's crazy if someone doesn't like you. I like you." "Well, apparently there are people out there who don't." I blushed a little at the comment. "I don't know." I shrugged. "He acted…guarded when I showed him the pictures I took and I guess it set him off. Like I threatened him or something. I didn't mean to. It just…" "Happened." Barry finished. "I know you have good intentions. The fact that he probably feels threatened by you just shows how talented you are. Riley, I've seen your photos and they're incredible. Don't be afraid to show your talents. It's what Larkin hired you for, right?" "Yeah." I said sheepishly. His green eyes lit up. "Be confident with yourself." He smiled. "He just has to step up his game." He casually rested his chin on top of his hand. "You'll be fine." We looked at each other for a bit and I looked away, letting out a small laugh. "What?" "Nothing." I shook my head. "But…thank you." "It's the very least I can do." He took a deep breath and sighed. His gaze flipped back to my laptop at the picture. "I still can't believe I got that." I sighed. "It's like Jimmy Olsen from the Daily Planet with Superman." Barry mused. Something stirred inside me. "Huh." I realized. "You're right." It was exactly that. Well Jimmy Olsen was the newspaper photographer every photographer wanted to be. "Uh oh." Barry's eyes widened. "I shouldn't have said that." "What? Why? It's true. Metropolis has Superman and Central City has the Flash." "Yeah, but then you'll probably dive right into that and maybe do some crazy shit to get a photo of the Flash." "I have to work for it, right?" "Yeah well…not like that." He stumbled over his words and he rubbed the back of his head. "I mean…just please be careful, okay?" "I promise." I smiled. Then I closed out of the picture and put my laptop aside as a barista came up with our coffee. "One hazelnut mocha and a vanilla latte." She announced. "Thank you." We both said and took our coffee. Eddie and Iris shortly joined us with their coffee in hand. "So, Iris said you got some shots today?" Eddie asked. "Yes I did." I grabbed my laptop and pulled the other photos up before passing it to Eddie. He took it and flipped through the photos with Iris. "I think Larkin hired an excellent photographer." Eddie sipped his coffee. "These will look great with the article." Iris agreed. "You did an excellent job today, Riley." Barry took his turn and flipped through them. "I completely agree." Iris nodded. "Andrew does a good job, but your work is better." "Thanks." I smiled sheepishly as I turned my laptop off and put it away. "So how was your day, guys?" She asked. "We got a break in the Central City National Bank robbery thanks to Barry's excellent work in the CSI." Eddie announced. "It's nothing." Barry slipped his mocha. "Not true, Barry." Eddie disagreed. "We couldn't solve our cases without you." "Just doing my job, Eddie." Barry draped an arm over the couch. I gave him a small smile and he smiled back. "Care to make a comment, Detective Thawne?" Iris asked in her reporter voice. "Well, Miss West," Eddie replied. "Just know that Central City's greatest and finest are very close to solving the case." He smiled at Iris and she gave him a gentle kiss. Ever so slightly, Barry stiffened a little. It wasn't as bad as he normally would. "Any crazy stuff in the CSI world?" I asked while taking a drink. "We've had a few strange cases." He replied. Only because Meta-humans were behind it. "We've had the Flash help solve a few of them." And I may have something to do with that. Wait, what? Is Barry…? No, he couldn't be. He doesn't look like it. Then again, looks aren't everything. "No way, that's awesome!" I grinned. "You guys must get a lot accomplished if you're working together." "It's definitely interesting." Eddie agreed. He seemed pretty unsure about it. He's a menace. He could break into a bank without anyone noticing and get away with it. We kept talking for a little while longer until we called it an evening. Iris offered to drive me back to CCPN so I could get to my car. "I'm glad your first day went well." Barry pulled me into a hug. I hugged him back and smiled into it. "So far, so good." I mused. "Maybe sometime this week we can do another lunch date." Barry suggested. "I'd like that." I agreed. "Chinese food?" "Hell yes." I nodded. "I'll text you later this week on that." Barry started to walk me towards Iris's car. He held the door of the building for me as we walked out into the chilly air. "Shit, it's cold." I pulled my coat around me a little tighter. "Here." He pulled his coat off and wrapped it around me. So much warmth radiated from him. "Feel better?" "Much better." I nodded. "Aren't you cold, though?" "Nah, I'm a space heater." He shook his head. He wasn't kidding. His coat was incredibly warm. For a skinny guy he generated a lot of body heat. "You're lucky." I pulled his coat close. Traces of his aftershave still lingered on it. "I'm like a popsicle. No matter what season, I'm always cold." Barry chuckled. His breath was a cloud of vapor in the cold air. "That's about the worst kind of luck you can have." His eyes sparkled. "You're telling me." I giggled as we took our time walking to Iris's car. Barry matched his stride with mine. "Were you able to sleep easier last night?" He asked. "For the most part." I replied. "Better than the night before." "That's good to hear." "What about you?" "I was able to sleep knowing you were okay." He looked down at me. "And your mom's gnocchi kinda put me to sleep afterwards when I got home." "Food coma?" "Food coma and a combination of exhaustion from work." He mused. "Well, take it easy when you get home, okay?" I looked back up at him. "Get some dinner and rest up." "Same goes for you, missy. You 've got an actual job now." "Shit, you're right." I chuckled. Barry laughed along. We reached Iris's car and she unlocked it with the fob on her keychain. Barry walked over to the passenger side and held the door open for me. I slipped his coat off and handed it back to him. "I believe that belongs to you, Mr. Allen." "Yes, indeed, Miss Lewis." He slipped it back on. "Thanks for letting me use it." I gave him a small smile. "Any time." He smiled back. "You just have to ask if you ever need anything." "I'll gladly keep that in mind." I leaned against the frame of the car as he leaned on the top of the car door. "I'll text you about lunch this week." "Okay." I agreed. Iris and Eddie reached the car and kissed each other. "I'll see you when you get home." Eddie smiled at her lovingly. I felt a small twinge of jealousy. "I'll be there after I drop Riley off." She replied. Barry pulled me into another hug. His warmth engulfed me. "See you soon." He spoke softly. "See you soon." I replied back. He released me from his embrace and climbed into the car. He shut the door as Iris climbed in on her side and started the car. As we pulled out of the parking lot, Barry gave a small wave. I waved back and then he disappeared from my sight. "Well that went well." Iris spoke after a bit. "Yes it did." I agreed. "What did you guys talk about?" "Mainly just making plans for lunch this week." "Chinese?" "Most likely." I mused. We continued the drive to the CCPN parking lot. We talked some more about random topics. Eventually we pulled into the lot and I spotted my car. "Thanks for the ride." "Yeah, absolutely no problem." Iris smiled. "Just let me know if you ever need a ride to anywhere or you just want to hang out some time." "Absolutely." I smiled back. She reached over and gave me a hug. "See you tomorrow." "See you tomorrow." I replied. I climbed out of her car with my stuff, then proceeded to my car. Iris drove off and disappeared from my view in a matter of seconds. As I reached my car and fished around for my keys, a gust of wind ruffled my hair. "So you're a photographer for the paper." A strange voice spoke behind me. I jumped and almost let out a yelp. I turned around quickly to find the scarlet speedster casually standing a few feet away. "Oh, my God." My heart was hammering against my chest. The Flash laughed in amusement. "Sorry," He apologized. "I didn't mean to scare you." His face was slightly blurred. "No, you're fine." I assured him. "I've been on edge the past few days." "Can't say I blame you." He folded his arms across his chest in a relaxed manner. "No, but I do have you for being the reason I'm standing her." I replied, taking in a deep breath and my hands shook a little. Why was I shaking? Why was I nervous? "It's just part of what I do. No need to thank me." "Yes, I do need to thank you." I disagreed. "I could have died that night. I came so close to being killed in front of everyone, including my friends." "Did they hurt you?" He asked with a taught voice. "Nothing serious." "Did they hurt you?" He asked in a more serious tone. I sighed in dismay and moved part of my shirt collar aside. "They got me a little with a knife." I explained. "You got there fast enough before they made it permanent." "But not fast enough." He tensed up. "Don't beat yourself up over this." I cautiously approached him. He took a few steps back and I stayed in my spot. "I'm alive. So is everyone else that was there that night. We're alive and safe because of you." He didn't speak. "I never got the chance to say it, but thank you for saving my life." I couldn't tell exactly if he was smiling through the blur. Judging from how he relaxed a little, I think he was. "How did you find me, anyway?" "I saw you with Iris West earlier. Saw the camera and figured you work the for the newspaper." He explained. "You figured right." I mused. "First day?" "Yeah." I nodded. "A little nerve-wracking, but that's expected." "It'll get easier." He replied. "I'm sure Miss West has plenty of stories from her first few days starting here." "Knowing her, she probably does." I chuckled a little. A small distorted chuckle emitted from him. I looked at him, admiring the hero of the city. I felt relaxed, more calm than I've been in a while. He put up a hand to one of the lightning bolts on the side of his red leather cowl, looking off to the side. "Yeah? A robbery? I'm on my way." He turned to me. "Duty calls." "Will I see you around?" I asked. "I'm always around." He replied with a hint of a smile in his voice. Then he took off in a gust of wind and a flash of lightning, leaving me speechless and in awe. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- When I got to my apartment Link greeted me by jumping into my arms. He meowed and climbed up on to his cat tower and perched there. "Hi, pretty boy." I scratched his head affectionately. Link head butted me and purred. "Yeah, I missed you, too. You're probably wanting food, aren't you?" He head-butted me and jumped down, sprinting to the kitchen as I hung my stuff up and followed him. I headed to the cupboard where I kept his canned good. As soon as I opened the door, Link climbed in. "Get out of there, turd bucket." I sighed as I reached for a can. He crawled out and started pacing around the kitchen. I grabbed his food and water dish, filling them both up. Once I set them on the floor, he hungrily attacked his food. "You're a hungry thing." I scratched his back and he arched his back. I left him alone and headed to the fridge to get dinner of my own. I heated up some leftover soup I had with Barry the previous night and poured a small glass of Blackberry Arbor Mist. I grabbed my phone and shot a text to Nat. You won't believe what happened today… What happened? Were you at the Bowman fire? I was. I'm fine. I managed to get a shot of the Flash coming out of the building after the fire was put out. Holy shit, really? Really. Crystal clear shot. And on your first day? Yup. I don't know how I managed to, but it happened. Damn, girl. Not bad for your first day. Anything else happened? I had coffee with Barry, Iris, and Eddie. Barry and I are going to try to meet up this week for lunch. And when I was going to head home, I ran into the Flash. The fuck? Are you serious on all of those? Yes, I'm dead serious. Well what happened? Spill the beans! I wanna know what fucking happened! I was heading to my car and the Flash was there. We talked a little bit and I thanked him for saving my life when we were held hostage. He seemed guilty I got hurt a little in the process. I told him it didn't matter. All that mattered was that I'm alive. Damn. You've had quite the day. Yeah, no shit. I'm still trying to process all of it. I don't think this wine I have is helping, though. Bullshit. You need the wine. How are things with Barry? They're great. We almost kissed each other last night. SAY WHAT!? WHY NOT!? Link got jealous and got in the middle. Damn cat. You're telling me. I was actually disappointed when it didn't happen. Dude's hot. I'd be disappointed, too. Keep me posted on that. I wanna know what happens. Will do. I grabbed my leftovers from the microwave and ate my food. Link was off in the corner eating noisily. I chuckled in amusement at his meowing as I ate. I kept eating my soup and drinking my wine until none was left in my glass and bowl. There was a sudden knock on my door and I hurried to answer it. I glimpsed in the peephole to find Thalia standing there. Quickly I unlocked the door and opened it. "Thalia?" I was surprised. She hardly knocked on my door. The only interactions I had with her were in the halls. Her tiny figure shook as she stood there, tears streaking her face and her mascara was also running. She had a gash on her forehead, but it didn't look too terribly deep. "What's wrong?" The bubbly and caring Thalia I knew so well wasn't present at all. Instead, a broken figure with her face stood there. She broke down completely and started sobbing. I gently took her by the shoulders and guided her to the couch, closing the door behind us. I grabbed a box of tissues and offered it to her as I sat down. Link came in from the kitchen curious at the commotion. He hopped up on the couch and sat in Thalia's lap. She smiled weakly at him and took a handful of tissues. Thalia wiped the tears from her eyes and took a shaky breath. "There was this guy at one my tables at work earlier this evening. He was rude and kept grabbing me or slapping me on the ass whenever I walked by. My boss told him to knock it off or he'd kick him out. He stopped, but he kept eyeing at me and it made me really uncomfortable." My stomach dropped. "Fucking bastard." I could see it all replay in her mind. "Then I was closing and clearing up." She continued. "I was out in the alley taking the trash out when I was done. He was there. He was hiding in the shadows. He came out…and he grabbed me. He said of these vile things and I couldn't get away." Tears fell down her face. I knew what was next. "Thalia," I spoke as gently as I could. "Did he rape you?" She burst into sobs and nodded. I pulled her into a hug as she cried. "Did he hurt you anywhere else?" I observed the gash on her forehead. She slipped her jacket off and I saw bruises on her arms. "We need to get you to a hospital so they can check out the gash. We can see if they have a rape kit, too." "I..." She was a little hesitant. "I have a friend who works with the police in the forensics department. We need to capture the bastard and Barry can help." I made sure I didn't pressure her into it. She was silent for a few moments. "Okay." She took a deep breath. "Do you want me to get you a spare change of clothes?" I asked. She nodded. "You stay here with Link." Thalia handed me her keys and I headed out to her unit. Her apartment had a very chic look to it, but it was homey and comfy. Her room was off to the side and I searched for clean sweatpants, underwear, a shirt, socks, shoes, and placed them in a duffel bag. Then I locked the unit behind me and headed back to mine. Thalia was laying on the couch on her side, clutching a pillow. Link was curled up next to her. Her gaze flickered up in my direction when I walked in. "You ready?" I asked. She nodded and sat up. "Thank you for doing this." Her voice shook. "It's the very least I can do." I replied while grabbing my keys and bag. "Link's a good kitty." Thalia scratched him behind his ears. He closed his eyes and purred. "He's a good boy." I agreed. "One of the best." I helped Thalia stand up and we made our way to the door. I held it open her for and we walked out, shutting off the lights and locking the door. The drive to the police station was a fifteen-minute drive. Once we parked into the parking lot, I led Thalia inside the building to the elevators where we rode it up to the headquarters. "Have you been here before?" She asked. "Once." I replied. "I took a tour of it in high school because I was considering being a police sketch artist." "Really?" She was surprised. "Yep, but I didn't go through with it because it was a little constricting. Also a little morbid." The doors slid open with police officers bustling about. On the wall where the elevators were located there was a giant gold-colored mural that depicted Zeus, Poseidon, Hera, Hades, Hermes, Apollo, and Hephaestus. Behind them was a shield depicted with an American flag on it and an eagle at the top of the mural. At the bottom there was a motto that read 'Truth-Liberty-Justice'. There was a set of doors to walk through to offices and desks of the officers. Just off to the side was a set of stairs that led to other areas in the building. "Riley?" A voice spoke my name. Detective West was walking in my direction. "What are you doing here so late?" "Detective West," I greeted him with a handshake. "We need to file a report because my friend was sexually assaulted earlier tonight." Detective West took a deep breath and sighed. "Officer Matthews is trained to handle situations like these." He explained. "Ma'am, I'm so sorry this happened to you." I looked over at Thalia and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll catch him, Thalia." I tried to reassure her. She didn't speak, but she nodded. "This way, please." Detective West held out an arm towards the doors. We followed him through the doors to Officer Matthews's desk. "Officer Matthews?" A woman with black hair cut in a pixie style looked up. She had warm chocolate brown eyes and a caring expression. "Detective West," She acknowledged. "How can I help you?" "Officer Matthews, this is Riley Lewis. She's a friend of my daughter and Barry. Her friend unfortunately needs to file a report for sexual assault." "I'm so sorry this happened to you." Matthews gave a sympathetic look to Thalia. "Let's get this filed so we can catch this guy." We sat down in some chairs that were next to her desk. "I'm going to go make a phone call." Detective West informed me. "I'll be right back." "Okay." I nodded. "Let me know if you two need anything." He pulled his phone out and headed to his desk. Barry better get his ass over here. Officer Matthews pulled out a blank report sheet on her computer. She took a deep breath and sighed. "When you're ready, ma'am." She looked over at Thalia. Thalia took a deep breath as well and sighed with a nod. "Your name and date of birth." "Thalia Jackson." Thalia began. "I was born on October tenth, in eighty-nine." She clasped her trembling hands together. Officer Matthews quickly typed up the information on the page. She gave Thalia a nod to continue. "Earlier this evening I was working my shift at a diner not too far from here." "And what's the name of this diner?" "Lou's." Thalia replied. "A customer came in and sat down at one of my tables. I waited on him, but his behavior became increasingly inappropriate. He was rude and whenever I would walk by, he would grab me or slap me on my bottom. My boss told him to knock it off or he'd kick him out, so the guy stopped." "So this behavior started while you were working?" Matthews asked as she typed everything down. Poor girl. This is awful this happened to her. "Yes." Thalia answered. "What else happened?" "After I closed up, I was outside taking the rash out. He was there, hiding out in the shadows. He came out and grabbed me. Smacked my head against the wall and that's how I got the gash. He said all of these vile things to me; what he was going to do and that I would like it." She shuddered. "He pulled me to the ground and I couldn't get up. He had a tight grip on me and I couldn't move. He left bruises on my arms. Then he pulled his pants and briefs down and pulled mine off. And then he raped me." She broke into sobs again. I pulled her into a hug, doing my best not to hurt her. Officer Matthews had to stop typing and grabbed tissues for Thalia and her herself. Once she recomposed herself, she finished typing out the rest of the details. "Thank you for providing as much formation as possible. This definitely isn't any easy thing to do." She gave a gentle, reassuring squeeze of Thalia's hand. "Do you remember what this guy looks like?" Thalia nodded. "I can help with this bit." I was quick to step in. "Do you have a pencil and paper?" Officer Matthews handed me the materials. "Okay, Thalia." I inhaled. "Describe this douchebag for me." I drew the basic outline of a face. "He was big. About six feet tall and muscular." Thalia began to describe. I could see the guy in her mind. He was big and muscular. The admittedly was attractive, but that's what made him dangerous. He had angular cheek bones and a chiseled chin. I didn't move too fast as I looked into her mind. Thalia kept on describing the man and before long, we had a sketch of the guy. Thalia kept on describing the man and before long, we had a sketch of the guy. "That's exactly him." Thalia looked at it. "Right down to the eyes." She shuddered. I handed the Officer Matthews the sketch after I wrote details about his height and weight. "Impressive." She raised her brows. "You'd put our sketch artist out of a job." "I thought about it in high school once." I replied. "Too morbid for me on the circumstances." "Understandable." Matthews answered. "Thank you for your help." "So now what?" Thalia asked. "We need to get you to a hospital to check your gash and do a rape kit on you." Matthews explained. "As soon as we file this and collect evidence, we'll get this son of a bitch. No one should get away from this." "Thank you." I nodded. "All part of the job." She waved it away. "We'll catch this guy, Miss Jackson." "We need to get you to a hospital." I looked over at Thalia. She sat very still and looked at the floor, but nodded in agreement. "Both of you get some rest tonight if you can." Matthews advised. "That's the plan." We stood up and made our way towards Detective West. "How did it go?" He asked. "Gave a detailed report and sketch of the guy." I replied. "Already?" "I drew it." I explained. "I majored in art at CCU." "Ah," Detective West went with it. "Where are you off to now?" "The hospital. We need to get her gash checked out and do a kit." "Sounds like a plan." West took a deep breath and sighed. "We'll contact you as soon as we hear anything." "Thank you." I nodded. "Goodnight, Detective West." "Goodnight." He replied. "Keep an eye on my boy for me. He tends to get carried away with things." "Will do. Goodnight." I gave a small smile. After that we headed out to the lobby to the elevators. We drove to the nearest hospital within a matter of minutes and parked in a spot close to the entrance. I grabbed the duffel bag of Thalia's clothes and we headed inside. We had to wait a bit before someone could take a look at Thalia. When they did, I waited in the waiting room while Thalia took her bag. My phone started buzzing in my pocket and I fished it out. It was Barry. I swiped to answer and held the phone up to my ear. "Hi, Barry." I greeted in a tired voice. "Riley?" I could sense some worry in his voice. "Joe told me what happened. Where are you at?" "I'm at the hospital. My friend's getting her gash looked at and the rape kit done." "How's she holding up?" He asked. "Not very well." I replied bitterly. "She's taking this pretty hard." "I'm so sorry. This happened to her." "Why? It's not your fault." "Yeah, but because the restaurant she works at isn't too far from the police station, I feel guilty enough about it. I'm surprised she didn't come to us right away." "She was really freaked out and didn't know what to do." "We're going to make sure we catch him. I won't stop until we got him." Barry replied bitterly. "I promise you that." "Thank you, Barry." "Try to get some sleep tonight, okay?" "I'll try, but no promises." I sighed. "Just…just be careful, okay?" I heard a plea in his voice. "Ever since the hostage situation at Jitters I've been concerned about your safety." "I appreciate the concern." I replied. "I'll take extra caution out there, but I think I have a bit of a guardian angel watching out for me." "Really? How so?" Curiosity perked in his voice. "I saw the Flash earlier. After Iris dropped me off at CCPN." "Was he running through the streets? Is that how you saw him?" "No, he actually came up to me." I explained. "We actually talked. And he wanted to make sure I was okay." "Wow, twice in one day." He sounded impressed. "Stroke of luck, I guess." I mused with exhaustion. "Well, if he saves you again, maybe you do have a guardian angel." Barry said. "But that doesn't mean you need to go out and be reckless." "I promise I won't." I replied. "I gotta go. Take care of yourself, Riley. And get some sleep." "I will." I agreed. "You get some sleep as well." "Goodnight, Riley." "Goodnight, Barry." I hung up and laid back in the chair. I let out a sigh and closed my eyes. I sat there thinking hard about what happened this evening. Eventually darkness and sleep took over. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Gentle shaking woke me and I snapped up with a jolt. Thalia was standing there with the duffel bag in hand wearing the comfy clothes I grabbed for her. "Hey." I greeted half asleep. "Hey." She greeted back. The sleepy fog began to clear from my mind. "How did it go?" I asked as I sat up straight, stretching out the sore muscles. "Fine." She shrugged. "They took my clothes for DNA evidence, swabbed my fingernails, swabbed my vagina for any traces of his jizz on me and for signs of assault, they took pictures of the bruises and gash. Then they patched me up." "Now what?" I asked. "They send the evidence to forensics and see what they can pull from it." Thalia replied. "Hopefully your friend is as good as you say he is." "He's one of the best." I answered. There were a few moments of silence. "Let's get you home. You're exhausted and you need the sleep." "Can I stay with you for the night?" Thalia asked. "I don't want to be alone." "Of course you can." I nodded. "I'd actually rather have you stay the night to begin with. You've been through a lot tonight." Thalia gave a weak smile. "Let's go home." I stood up and took Thalia's bag from her. She looked exhausted and she would pass out at any minute. I led the way to my car and unlocked it. Thalia climbed in the passenger side while I put her bag in the back seat. Then I climbed in and started the car. On the way back, Thalia fell asleep. Now I understood what Barry was going through when he drove me home from the Jitters hostage situation. Something bad happens to a friend of yours, then you'd do anything to make sure they were safe. Thalia continued to sleep as I drove home. Poor tired girl…I thought with remorse. She's been through so much. When we reached the apartment building I parked the car and shut the engine off. "Thalia." I gently shook her awake. "Thalia, we're here." Thalia woke up sleepily and disoriented. "Hmm?" She mumbled while looking around. "We're home." I explained. "Oh." She realized. I hopped out of the car and grabbed the bag. Thalia stumbled out of the car and made her way to the front door. Once the car doors were shut, I locked the vehicle. Then I followed Thalia inside to the elevators. She pressed the button for the elevator and the doors slid open. We climbed inside and I pressed the button for our floor. "Do you need any pajamas?" I asked. "No, these are fine." She shook her head. "Do you want the bed?" I wanted to make sure she was comfortable as possible. "The couch is fine." Thalia shrugged. We reached our floor and I led the way out. When we reached my unit I fished my keys out of my bag and unlocked the door. I turned the light on and we headed inside. Thalia collapsed on the couch with Link joining her. I put her duffel bag by the door, then hurried to grab a pillow from my bed and a blanket. "You gonna be okay?" I asked as I brought them out to her. I put the pillow at one end of the couch and the blanket next to her. "For now." She replied. "I'll feel even better when the fucking bastard is captured." She took her shoes off and laid down on the couch, wincing at her bruises. "Thanks for taking care of me, Riley." "It's the least I can do." I pulled the blanket over her. "Do you need anything else?" "No thank you, I'm fine." Thalia yawned and her eyes began to droop. "If you need anything, I'll be in my room." I let her know. "Okay." She mumbled softly. A soft snore escaped from her and she was completely out of it. I turned the lights off and headed to my room to grab my pajamas. I kicked off my shoes and jacket, them made my way to the bathroom. I turned the shower on and undressed myself while I waited for the water to warm up. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of my reflection. My auburn hair clung to my face in waves, I had dark circles beneath my eyes from lack of sleep, and my skin was pale. What did Barry see in me? All I saw was an average looking person. I slipped my necklace, class ring, and Claddagh ring off and placed them on the counter. They were such simple objects, but the Claddagh ring especially held important significance to me. With the water warm enough, I climbed into the shower. For a minutes I just stood there, letting the steam and water engulf me in a warm embrace. My eyes closed in relaxation as stiff muscles loosened up. I washed my hair, washed my face, shaved my legs and armpits, then scrubbed my body with a sugar scrub body wash. I relaxed myself for a few more minutes before shutting the water off. After drying myself when I climbed out of the shower I got dressed. My Hufflepuff pants and Doctor Who shirt were comfy and warm. I stuck my dirty clothes in the hamper and headed to my room. I stood at the window and stared out at the city. Even this late at night the city was still lit up. I stood there thinking and taking everything in. A few thoughts from the residents around me crept into my mind. The voice grew louder and louder. Suddenly there were more voices than I've ever heard before. The pain was blinding and it felt like thousands of needles were being pushed into my brain. The pain brought me to my knees and I cried out in pain. What was happening to me? I curled up on the floor in fetal position trying to cover my ears with my hands to block out the sound. It was no use. Tears were streaming down my face at the excruciating pain. Then as soon as it started, it stopped. My hands shook as I slowly pulled them away from my ears. My heart was hammering and my breathing was rapid. What the hell was that? The pain subsided to a dull, throbbing headache as I sat up shakily. That was a big mistake. My stomach felt all twisted up and it lurched forward. I scrambled quickly to the bathroom and heaved bile into the toilet. Was I sick? It felt like a stomach flu headache I usually got whenever I was sick with it. My sides ached as my stomach got rid of whatever was in it. When I stopped puling my guts out, I rested my head on the edge of the seat. Gross, I know. I didn't care at the moment. The voices in my head. It was like when I first discovered my ability to read minds. Except that wasn't a few thoughts. That was more than usual. That was like the entire city! What the hell was going on? I hardly got any sleep again last night. I think I got a total of five hours of sleep. Thalia had left when I woke up. She left a note saying her thanks of me watching out for her and letting her stay the night. I went through my usual routine to get ready and I made myself a lunch to take to work. Link was fed, coffee was made to go, and I was ready to head out. When I arrived at work people were bustling about. Mr. Larkin was supervising some departments and trying to find some headliners. "Riley," He greeted looking up as I walked in. "Did you get any photos from the Bowman fire yesterday?" "Hi, Mr. Larkin," I greeted back. "Yes I did." "Fantastic, can you print out a few? We'll need them for our headline." "Sure, no problem." I nodded. "Great." Mr. Larkin smiled. "Oh and before I forget, you'll need your picture taken for your press pass." "Okay." I agreed. I headed over to my desk and sat down, logging into my computer. I plugged in the memory card with pictures from yesterday and waited for them to load. It wasn't even noon yet and I was exhausted. "Hey, Riley." Iris's voice greeted me from behind. I looked up and swiveled in my seat. "Hey, Iris." I rubbed my eyes. "Wow, you look like shit." Her eyes went wide. "Thanks for your words of confidence." I chuckled tiredly. "I didn't get much sleep last night." "Yeah, I bet." She replied sympathetically. "Barry and my dad told me what happened last night. I'm so sorry that happened to your friend." "Yeah," I sighed in a quick breath. "Me, too. I'm just hoping they can capture the guy." "If not the police, maybe the Flash could." Iris said hopefully. "Maybe." I agreed. I stared off absently at something for a bit. "You okay?" She asked with some worry. "I'm fine. Just tired." I replied. "You need some proper coffee." "I made some this morning." I drank out of my travel mug to prove my point. "No, you need Jitters." Iris shook her head. "Your coffee isn't strong enough." "Not even if it's French pressed?" "Not even." Iris replied. "Or this is you being biased because you used to work there and the coffee's damn good?" I raised my brows. "Yeah, it might be that." She mused. "I'll grab you something when I'm out." "Iris, you don't have to do that." I began to protest. "No, you've been through a lot and you look like hell." She waved her hand. I opened my mouth, but she gave me a look. "Fine." I sighed. "You're as bad as my mom and Barry." "That's what happens when you're friends with me." Iris smiled. I continued working throughout the morning occasionally with Andrew. He showed me more of the ropes around CCPN. I could still feel some hostility from him as we worked, though. He still doesn't seem too happy I'm here. When I had a small break I took care of my press pass photo. Despite looking and feeling like utter shit, my picture came out pretty good. When noon rolled around Iris left to go on a lunch date with Eddie. I was left alone at my desk and ate the lunch I made for myself. This morning Iris and I worked together on the Bowman fire. Since the story involved the Flash, Larkin wanted Iris to write the story. "You have a special tie with him." Larkin raved as he gave directions. "Use that to your advantage. It's like Lois Lane and Superman." It most certainly is not like Lois and Superman, Iris's thoughts flashed with anger. She was in a bit of a grumpy mood afterwards, but once we worked together on the story her mood lightened up quite a bit. They still haven't caught the guy who started it, but it was released that it was started by Victor Evans, a former and very disgruntled employee. My money was with Iris on the stolen research theory being the motive of the attack. And I also agreed that he was affected by the particle accelerator explosion. My lunch break was pretty boring and uneventful until Iris came back. She came in around one with two cups of coffee with the familiar Jitters logo on them. "I come bearing gifts of caffeine!" She announced as she placed one on my desk. "Oh, my God, I love you." I took it gratefully and sipped it. Rich, hot caramel flavoring poured down my throat and into my stomach. "Barry said vanilla and caramel were your top two flavors." Iris gave a small smile. "I texted him while I was out when I couldn't pick what to get you." "Totally fine." I waved it away. "Caramel, hazelnut, vanilla, and chocolate are my go-to flavors. "Now I know what coffee ground bags to buy for your birthday and Christmas." She chuckled. "Also like tea." I pointed out. "What kind?" "Pretty much everything except for Earl Grey." I replied. "I don't like smell or taste of it." "Duly noted." She agreed. "I gotta get to work on a small article for Larkin." "Flash article?" I raised my brows. "Yeah," She sighed. "Just basically about he's a great hero and all. Not that there's something bad. It's just that…" "You want to be known as someone other than the Flash's personal reporter." I finished. "Exactly!" Iris raised her hands. "You understand that, too! I feel like I can do so much more than just sit on my ass and write stories about the Flash." "I totally believe you." I agreed. "I bet you have some really great ideas for stories." "I do! I had this great idea about how a project over in Keystone helps pregnant women get back on their feet. Instead Larkin shuts me down on that and had me work on Flash stories." Then an idea hit me. "What if we worked together?" I suggested. "You did say we'd make a bad ass team. I could help you with the Flash stories and you can work on solo stuff." "That…" Iris thought aloud. "Is not a bad idea. That could actually work. We could be a crime-reporting duo!" "West and Lewis." I grinned. "Author goes first." I reminded her. "Riley, you're a genius." She hugged me. "We'd better get started on some pieces Do you have any photos of the Flash from the fire?" My stomach dropped. "What?" "Well," I took a deep breath. "I have one, but…" "But what?" Iris asked. "Riley, you can talk to me about anything." "I feel like it's unfair on how I got it." I explained. "First day on the job and a fire happens. Then we go to it and I manage to snag a photo of the Flash. I feel like it's unfair because I should have to work to get photos. Not have them handed to me on a silver plate." "Riley, that's part of being a journalist." Iris gently said. "Sometimes you're in the right spot at the right time. Sometimes you have to work for it and sometimes you don't. It's like what we said last night. Larkin hired you for a reason, so Andrew has to step up his game. Barry thinks the same thing." "You sure?" I sighed. "I'm sure." She nodded. "So what's this picture? You showed it to Barry." "Okay." I reluctantly agreed. I pulled my camera's SD card out and inserted it into the computer. After scrolling a bit through the files I found the photo I was looking for. "This is it." I pulled the image up. Iris leaned forward and looked at the photo. "Hot shit." She breathed. "That's amazing. That's better than the photo I managed to get of him on my phone. That's way better." I remember what photo she was talking about. The first photo of the Flash was the only photo Central City had of him and Iris barely managed to get it on her phone. "This really could become an iconic photo of him." "You think so?" I raised my brows. "Has anyone else snapped a good photo of him?" "I see your point." "Exactly." Iris nodded. "This is some really good work, though. Larkin would love it." "Larking would love what?" A harsh male voice spoke. I turned around at the source. A tall, broad man with dark hair, hazel eyes, and a goatee stood before us. "Riley, this is Mason Bridge." Iris introduced. "Mason, this is Riley Lewis, our new photographer." "Nice to meet you." I greeted. "Likewise." Bridge replied unimpressed. "Riley managed to get a photo of the Flash yesterday at the Bowman fire." Iris put in. "Is that so?" Bridge asked. I scooted to the side at my computer. "See for yourself, Mason." Iris replied. The stoic reporter headed to the monitor and observed it. "Huh," He was mildly surprised. "Not bad. For a newcomer. I'd be impressed if you won a Pulitzer." He gave a curt nod and left us. "Who showed a stick up his ass?" I frowned at him. Iris let out a snort of a laugh. "Mason's just competitive." She replied. "He's a really good reporter, but he can be a hard ass." "Oh." I mouthed quietly. "Yeah," She agreed. "He made my first few days rough." "The Flash said a similar thing." I mused. "Really? When?" "Last night after you dropped me off at the parking lot." I explained. "He found me in the parking lot. He wanted to make sure I was okay after the whole hostage situation. We talked for a bit and he knew I started working here. Then he mentioned you and said you have stories about your first few days here." "It gets better." She smiled. "He said that, too." I chuckled. "He's a smart guy." Iris added. "I'll see you soon. I gotta get back to work." "See you later." "Keep up the good work, Riley. You're doing a great job." Iris smiled again. I continued working throughout the rest of the work day. I listened to the advice of my friends and created a print of the Flash picture I took. There was an inner battle with my thoughts on how to tell Larkin. Towards the end of the day, I finally decided on a way to tell him. My hands shook a little as I approached his office. The older gentleman sat at his desk reading something intensely. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door frame. "Um, Mr. Larkin?" I greeted cautiously. Larkin looked up, reading glasses half way down the bridge of his nose. "Miss Lewis." He greeted with a smile. "Come in. What can I do for you? How's your day been?" I walked in and stood in front of his desk. "It's been pretty good so far. Just been busy working and learning the ropes around here." I smiled nervously. "Excellent. I like your work attitude." Larkin continued smiling. "So how can I help you?" "Well," I took a deep breath. "I have a photo of the Flash you may be interested in." I passed him the photo. Larkin took it and studied it. "It was from yesterday at the Bowman fire. I wasn't quite sure of it, but I took it along with the photos we used in today's paper." I nervously wrung my hands together at Larkin's silence. It bothered me very much. "You've been holding back, Riley.' He eyed me with suspicion. "However, this is great! This is fantastic!" His sudden mood change caught me by surprise. R-really?" I stammered. "Absolutely." He agreed. "Next story we have on him we'll use this as our front page photo." "Um...thank you, sir." I was shocked. "No, thank you, Miss Lewis." He stood up and shook my hand. "Keep up the excellent work, kiddo." "Sure thing. Have a good evening, Mr. Larkin." "And you as well, Riley." He smiled. I walked out of his office in a daze. "What was that about?" Iris asked as she walked up to me. She was ready to head home. "I showed him the photo." I replied. "And?" "He said the next Flash story we have he wants to use it for the cover photo." I explained. Iris let out a squeal and engulfed me in a hug. "Oh, my God, I'm so happy for you!" Her eyes shone with excitement. "I told you so!" "Yeah," I agreed, still in a daze. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Andrew standing nearby with a sour expression on his face. Great. Just what I needed. Some newcomer to come in with limited photography skills to completely show me up and possibly ruin my career! "I'll see you tomorrow, Riley." Iris said as she headed out the door. "See you tomorrow." I called after her. I headed to my desk to gather my things to head home. "So," Andrew spoke behind me. I jumped a little and turned around. "Oh," I realized who it was. "Hi, Andrew." He stood there with a blunt expression. "Hi." He replied stiffly. "I heard about your photo and Larkin's opinion. Congratulations. That's a big achievement for a newcomer." "Thanks." I replied. "How did you do it?" His eyes narrowed. "I was in the right place at the right time." I shrugged. "Nothing special to it." "You sure Iris isn't pulling strings for you?" He asked. I eyed him suspiciously. "If you're accusing me of using my friend's connection to the Flash, you're wrong." I replied coldly. "Believe it or not, I was actually debating with myself on showing the picture to Larkin for an entire day. I even thought that it wasn't fair I managed to get a good photo on my first day." Andrew's gazed softened. "I'm…sorry." He was taken back by my response. "I shouldn't have been so quick to judge." "Yeah, you shouldn't have." I shot back. I grabbed my stuff and marched out of the door to my car. Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. When I got home I was still pretty pissed off, but Link was there. "Hey, buddy." I greeted him with a scratch on his head. After I put my stuff away and fed Link my phone buzzed. How's my favorite photographer doing? I couldn't help but smile at the text from Barry. Tired, but not too terribly bad. I think I made a nemesis at work, though. How's my favorite forensic scientist? About the same. Already? How come? With Andrew the other photographer. I took your advice and submitted the photo to Larkin. Now Andrew thinks I'm a threat to his career. Don't worry about him. He's just butt hurt you're good and you're becoming Larkin's favorite. You sure? I'm positive. Like we said before, Larkin hired you for a reason. You proved that today. Gah I'm starting to dread going into work tomorrow. Would it put your mind at ease if we went out for lunch tomorrow? It would! Chinese at Mamma Chang's? It's close to both of our jobs. Works for me! I can pick you up at noon. Sounds like an excellent plan :) Awesome :) Take it easy for the rest of the nigh, okay? Just relax and I will make sure you have nothing to worry about tomorrow. I will try my hardest. No, you won't do anything. You relax. Drink some wine, binge-watch some TV on Netflix, and cuddle up with Link. Fine :P I'll see you tomorrow :) See you tomorrow :) I took Barry's advice and relaxed. It was one of the best decisions I made in a long while. I had a glass of wine, made some spaghetti, and kicked back with Link by watching some Doctor Who. It was a very close tie with the Tenth and Eleventh Doctor being my favorite. I even soaked in the tub with a sweet pea scented bath bomb. When I went to bed I didn't have any sudden pains or hear a shit load of thoughts at once. That night I was able to sleep easy. It ended up being one of the best nights of sleep I had. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Work was the same the next morning when I arrived. People were working hard on articles, the art department was choosing photos, the editorial staff was putting things together, and Larkin was directing people around. There was a buzz to the environment as the people bustled about, feeding off of each other's motivation. When I walked in Andrew was standing by my desk. I stopped in my tracks and was hesitant to approach him."Riley," Andrew greeted with a guilty look."What do you want?" I asked. "Come to accuse me of cheating my way through work?" Andrew flinched at the comment."No, I wanted to apologize. Properly." He stuck his hands in his pockets. I crossed my arms and started at him."Well?""I'm sorry about last night. I truly am. That was nowhere fair or right for me to accuse you like that." Andrew looked sincere. "I'm not used to having a second photographer around here. I see now why Larkin hired you. You are truly talented for a newcomer. Please forgive me." I was quiet for a few moments. His thoughts didn't have any traces of doubt for showed that he was lying."I forgive you." I replied quietly. "But I swear to God you accuse me of shit like that again, working together will not be pleasant.""Understood." Andrew nodded. "Is there any way I can make it up to you?""Just don't act like a dick. Plain and simple. It's unflattering if you do." I shrugged."I can do that." He agreed. "Sorry again about last night." He then left me to go to work on what he needed to do."Andrew acting like an ass?" Iris asked from behind."Yep." I replied."What did he do this time?" So he's done this more than once."Accused me of using you to get photos of the Flash." I explained."Wow." Iris bluntly said. "That's a new low for him.""Apparently." I agreed. "I've only been here for almost three days and I've been accused of cheating my way through work.""He doesn't like to share the spotlight, but I think you've put him in his place." Iris smirked."Maybe." I shrugged. "Honestly, I don't care. So what if he's butt hurt he's not the only photographer anymore?""Nice attitude." Iris complimented."I try.""So are you ready with your lunch date with Barry?" Iris asked."How'd you know?""You're forgetting who his best friend is.""Right." I agreed. "And yes I'm ready for it." Iris smiled."Good luck and have fun." She patted me on the shoulder and headed to her desk. I sat down at mine and logged into my computer, setting my stuff aside. I just wanted it to be noon already. I still had three and a half hours. Great. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I fished it out. It was a text from my mom. Anna, Ethan, and the kids are coming over for dinner Saturday night. We're having lasagna and you're more than welcome to join us. That didn't sound like a bad idea. Lasagna was one of my favorite foods. Maybe I could bring Barry if he was okay with the idea. Sure, sounds like a great idea. Can I bring a plus one? Of course. Who do you have in mind? Probably my friend Barry. I'll check with him later today when I see him. The same Barry that drove you home from the hostage situation? The very same. Great. We'll see you then. As the day rolled on I anxiously waited for noon. Iris wished me good luck on the way out when I was finally able to take a lunch break. I climbed into my car and made my way over to the police station. I parked in a spot, headed inside to the elevators, and rode them up to the precinct. There was a desk sergeant in the lobby at his post when the doors slid open."Excuse me." I greeted the man at the desk when I approached him."How can I help you, ma'am?" He looked up."I'm looking for Barry Allen. He works in forensics." I requested."Up the stairs and down the hall to your right. There's an opening on the left you can't miss." The desk sergeant directed."Thank you." I gave a small smile. He gave a small nod and went back to work.Does Allen have a new girlfriend? She looks new. Pretty hot to add to that. How was he able to score that? I ignored his mental comments and made my way up the stairs. The walls that were painted blue were decorated with pictures of Central City from over the years. Towards the middle of the of the hallway there was a large opening to the left. A large metal sliding door was pulled to one side to open the room.I peeked in the opening and saw a very large room. The walls weren't painted; they were left as large concrete blocks. There was a large skylight on the ceiling and there were dozens of shelves and tables with lab equipment and various chemicals. At one table was Barry looking into a microscope and writing things down. His brow was furrowed and forehead was creased as he was studying intensely. I felt a small smile appear on my lips as I knocked on a door frame."Knock, knock." I greeted. Barry looked up and smiled."Hey." He greeted back."Hey yourself." I walked into the lab, looking around. "So this is your lab, huh?""Yep, this is where all of the police science magic happens." Barry stood up and walked over to me. "And that," He pointed to a large scorch mark in the floor. "Is where I got struck by lightning." I spun around and looked at the floor."Holy shit!" I exclaimed. "How did you survive that? Well, I mean I know how you did, but seeing is believing." Barry laughed."Like I said," He replied. "I fell into a coma for nine months and was taken care of by a team at S.T.A.R. Labs.""Wouldn't have your muscles deteriorated over time, though?" I asked. Barry's eyes widened a little."What?""You were in a coma for nine months. Not using your muscles for that long should have done something to you." I observed."H-how do you know this?" Barry stared at me with an odd expression."It's uh…like that Stephen King novel. What's it called…" I tried to explain. "Dead Zone! That's what it is. There's this guy that has the ability to see into the future and he suddenly falls into a coma for two years. He wakes up and they have to do physical therapy on him because his muscles deteriorated over the two years he was in a coma.""Um…" Barry looked confused."Never mind." I blushed. "Forget I asked or said anything about it.""You sure?" He gave a quirky smile. "It's an interesting theory.""I'm sure." I nodded. "Just crazy theories." Barry smiled and chuckled."You ready for lunch?""Yeah, I'm starving." I replied."Just let me clean up a bit and we're good to go." Barry headed over to the table and cleared some stuff up. "So how's work been?""Apart from dick coworkers, not too bad." I sighed. "What about you? Anything weird?""Well there's the Bowman fire." Barry finished cleaning up. "No one knows the exact cause of it since there wasn't an accelerant.""Could it be a person like the Flash?" I asked curiously. "This city's been seeing some weird things over the past year. There's the Flash, the Burning Man, and one of the Marden brothers who could control the weather. I think the fire was started by someone with abilities. Somebody with fire manipulating abilities. Some kind of…""Firestarter?" Barry slipped his jacket on."Exactly." I sucked in a breath of excitement. "Ooh that would be such a good name for this guy!"Yep, Cisco would definitely get along with her. All of them would. Stop it! Stay out of his head. God damn it, Riley, stay out of his head. I forced myself to build a mental wall around my mind."Well, maybe this Firestarter guy is the former employee Victor Evans." Barry suggested."That's what Iris and I were thinking." I put in as we made our way to the entrance of the lab. "I think he got pissed off because somebody fire him and stole his research.""Seems like a probable cause" Barry nodded. "Look at you. You're thinking like a reporter.""It's part of my job, isn't it?" I grinned. "I may be a photo journalist, but I'm required to investigate things.""That it is." He grinned back. We walked down the stairs as we continued talking."Riley?" A familiar voice spoke. Detective West was walking past the stairs as we reached the bottom."Hi, Detective West." I greeted."Where are you two heading?" Detective West asked."We're heading to Mamma Chang's for a lunch date." Barry replied."A lunch date." Detective West sounded impressed."Yes, sir." I agreed."Their kung pao chicken ins pretty good." He recommended."I know what I'm getting." Barry grinned. Detective West chuckled."Have fun, you two. Go get some grub." He patted Barry on the shoulder."It was nice to see you again, Detective West." I gave a small wave."You, too, Riley." Detective West nodded. "See you later, Barry.""See you later, Joe." Barry replied as we made our way to the elevators.Barry looks actually happy. That's good. He needs happiness in his life, Detective West thought. We made our way to my car down at the parking lot. When I unlocked the car Barry opened the driver side for me."After you, madam." He gestured in."Thank you very much." I chuckled as I climbed in. Barry closed the door and climbed in on the passenger side. We buckled in and I started the car. Rock music blasted a little too loudly, making both of us jump. "Sorry." I cringed as I turned it down to a comfortable level."Never took you for the rock type." Barry mused."What, you thought I listen to pop songs about drugs, sex, and butts? No thanks." I made a face."I will admit 'Poker Face' is a guilty pleasure of mine." Barry blushed, but laughed it off. I made a face of surprise and started laughed."Oh, my God." I continued laughing."What? Lady Gaga has a good voice and the song's catchy." Barry gave an 'oh well' gesture. I pulled us out of the parking lot and on to the street. "So what other music do you like?""Pretty sure you can tell from the music my band plays that I like indie music." I replied. "I also like jazz, classical music, movie scores, and video game scores.""Ah, so you're a pretty well-rounded person in musical taste." Barry observed."Everything but country and rap. I can't stand those two. Other things I can tolerate." I explained. "When I was at CCU I minored in piano for a while, but then I dropped it and focused on photography.""How come? If you don't mind me asking." He asked."Being part of the music program was pretty time consuming so I was busy a lot. The head piano professor had something to do with being the reason I dropped, though. Apparently in her eyes I wasn't good enough to be in her studio. I tried so hard in working my ass off, but it never pleased her. She verbally degraded me during a lesson and the next day I quit.""Oh, my God." Barry looked appalled. "Couldn't the head of the music school do anything about it?""Nope." I shook my head. "She was tenured. Only way she could have gotten fired was by royally fucking something up. This woman was so damn hard to please, a friend of mine played all thirty-two pages of 'Rhapsody in Blue' perfectly and beautifully for a recital hearing. Then the piano professor said it was cute and to try again the next semester.""That's awful!""I was sitting by the doors to the performance hall and felt sick by her comment." I shuddered as we reached a stoplight. "It didn't stop me from playing, though. I played in my spare time for enjoyment or be an accompanist for the music majors during juries. It was a pretty good way to make cash on the side.""What exactly are juries in the musical sense?" He asked."Juries are when you play a few pieces that primarily deal with technique. You play in front of the professors that are in your area. If you played trumpet for example, you'd play in front of the entire brass department. So that would be trumpet, French horn, trombone, euphonium, baritone, and tuba." I briefly explained. "It pretty much sucked when I was going through it.""Well I would like to hear you play piano some time." Barry grinned."I think that could be a possibility." I agreed with a smile. "So what about you? Anything else interesting about your music taste or something about you that I don't know?""Um…" Barry though aloud. "I pretty much like all genres of music. And as for anything you don't know about me is that occasionally go to karaoke bars with my friends Cisco and Caitlin.""Really? You sing?""Not very frequently, but I have been told I can bring a house down." Barry chuckled. "There was one time Caitlin and I hung out at a bar and they had a karaoke night. Caitlin got a little drunk and decided to volunteer us to sing 'Summer Nights'.""That must've been quite a performance." I giggled."I got a girl's number from it.""You do realize at some point you're going to have to prove your singing ability to me, right?" I mused."I am highly aware of that and I realize I have dug a grave for myself." He chuckled."I'm not going to let you forget, Allen." I replied."Wow, so we're on a last-name basis with threats now.""I'm not threatening you." I smiled. "Just casually enforcing my promise by using your last name.""Well then, Lewis." He wiggled his brows with a smile. I laughed as I kept driving us to the restaurant."You're terrible." I grinned as I kept my eyes on the road. Barry only smiled and chuckled in amusement. The rest of the drive to Mamma Chang's we talked about all sorts of things; our favorite movies, TV shows, more hobbies, book series, all sorts of stuff. He wasn't too surprised when I told him my favorite book series was Harry Potter."So now that I know that you're a Potterhead, I have to ask what house.""Hufflepuff." I answered instantly. "One hundred percent Hufflepuff.""It suits you very well." He commented."I try." I shrugged."Okay, Miss Harry Potter expert," Barry drummed on the dashboard. "What house would you place me in?""Hmm…" I eyed him and thought hard. "I would place you…in Hufflepuff as well. I'm not saying that just because it's my house. You have this hardworking character, you love your family very much or those close to you, you're thoughtful and kind, you like helping people which could be a reason why you joined the CCPD, you have a good heart, you're caring, and very loyal. Just from what I've seen.""Holy crap that's eerily accurate." I could feel his stunned eyes on me. "How the hell did you do that?""I have a knack for reading people." That wasn't necessarily a lie."Color me impressed." Barry chuckled. Soon we reached Mamma Chang's and I parked in the lot. I shut the car off and we climbed out of the car, then we headed inside. Mamma Chang's was a little busy for the lunch hour, but we were able to order our food and get it in a reasonable amount of time. Just as he promised Detective West, Barry ordered his kung pao chicken. I ordered pork chow mei fun and an iced tea. As we sat down and waited for our food, I noticed Barry staring at me."What?" I panicked a little. "Do I have something on my face." Barry shook his head and smiled."No, you look really nice today." He replied."Oh." I blushed. "Thank you.""You're welcome." He smiled again."You look very nice as well." I complimented."I dress to impress."Well, I am definitely impressed.""That was the plan." Barry mused. "It was something Joe taught me growing up. This is nothing, though.""He seems like a good guy." I observed, "from what I've seen when we filed the report the other night. He and Officer Matthews were really helpful.""Joe's a pretty good guy." Barry nodded. "Erica's great to work with, too. How's your friend doing?""She's hanging in there." I sighed. "I wouldn't be surprised if she's having nightmares. I'm still having nightmares from the hostage ordeal.""And how are you holding up on that?" His eyes softened on the topic."I've been okay knowing that those criminals were caught." I responded. "With Thalia, though, that man is still out there.""I promise you we're doing everything we can to catch the guy." Barry took a hand and gently squeezed it. "We got the guy's name, though. His name is Roger Clark. The judge is supposed to give us a warrant for an arrest soon.""I take it he's been arrested before." I said."Driving while intoxicated and aggravated assault." He replied with a nod. "I promise you we're gonna get him.""Thank you." I said softly. A waiter came to our table with our food and place them before us. We acknowledged our thanks and dug in. "I can't pick which is better. Jaded Dragon or Mamma Chang's?""Mamma Chang's for the eggrolls and Jaded Dragon for everything else." Barry was quick to reply. "Although Joe was right about the kung pao." I made a face. "What?""My mouth can't handle spicy food." I replied."Good thing we decided to no go for tacos. I know this Mexican joint around here that has some damn good tacos, but they're the spiciest in town.""Aw, but I love tacos." I put on a sad face."They have non spicy ones.""Sweet Jesus yes." I grinned. Barry chuckled. "What? I like food." We continued eating our lunch and kept talking about different things. After we finished, we sat back."That's an interesting ring you're wearing." Barry observed. I looked down at my hands."What, the Claddagh ring?" I asked."Is that what it is?" I pulled the ring off and passed it to him. He took it and observed it closely."It's an Irish tradition." I explained. "I have Irish heritage from my mother's side. Her maiden name is Murphy. Lewis is an English surname. Anyway, the Irish have this tradition of these rings that signify their romantic status. The two hands mean friendship, the heart means love, and the crown means loyalty. If you wear the ring on your right hand with the heart pointing away from you, it means you're single. If it's pointing towards you it means you're in a relationship. On the left hand, away means engaged and towards means married.""That's pretty cool." Barry smiled as he observed it. Then he gave it back and I placed it on my finger. I sat there silent for a few moments. "What are you thinking about?""Would you be interested in hanging out Saturday?" I asked cautiously. "My parents invited me and my sister's household over for dinner. It's nothing too special.""I would love to." Barry replied with a gentle smile. "I think it could be fun.""You sure?" I was surprised. I didn't expect him to say yes."Absolutely." He smiled. "Like I said, it could be fun.""Great." I smiled back. "I can pick you up at your place around 5:30 if you want.""Works for me." He agreed. Barry gave me the address and I plugged it into my phone under his contact info. We were finished with lunch so we cleaned up after ourselves and exited the restaurant. As I drove us back to the police station we rode in a comfortable silence, occasionally talking about different things. When we reached the parking lot I pulled us in and parked, shutting the engine off. We climbed out of the car and made our trek to Barry's lab. "I see what you're doing." Barry smirked."What am I doing?" I asked as we walked inside the building."Trying to squeeze in the last few minutes you have until you need to get back to work." He chuckled in amusement."Maybe." I didn't deny it as a smile reached my lips."Don't deny it." He smiled."I didn't say I'm not." I wiggled my brows at him with a grin. We pressed the button for the elevator and the doors slid open. A few people climbed into the elevator with us as Barry pressed the button for his floor. We stood next to each other in the elevator and stared ahead at the lights for the floors. Just lightly brush your hand against his, I thought to myself. Ever so lightly I brushed the tips of my fingers against his. I felt his hand brush back and there was a small jolt of electricity. I jumped slightly at the feeling, but Barry's hand remained near mine. We kept looking forward and I could feel my cheeks heat up. Way to be cliché, Lewis, I mentally cursed myself. Once we reached our floor, the elevator dinged and the doors opened with everyone spilling out into the lobby."Interesting elevator ride." Barry smirked as I blushed a little."Oh, shut up." I replied as I stuck my tongue out at him."Wow, sassy and mature." He laughed as we climbed the stairs. With each step up the stairs and down the hall my stomach sank. I hadn't quite realized until now that I really enjoyed Barry's company. I felt very relaxed and I could be myself around him. Well, mostly myself. There's the whole 'Hey, I can hear your thoughts, but I'm trying really hard not to' situation. A we reached his lab Barry let out a sigh of defeat. "Well, here's my stop.""Thanks for lunch today." I gave him a smile."It was my pleasure." He returned the gesture. "I had fun even if it was just lunch.""I did, too." I agreed. "We'll have to do it again some time.""Maybe even a legit dinner date." He replied."I like the sound of that." I nodded. We were silent for a few moments. My God his gaze was so captivating I could get lost in his brilliant green eyes. "Well," I broke the silence, "I gotta head back before I get in trouble with Larkin.""Yeah, Captain Singh will be on my ass if I don't get back to work." Barry bit his lower lip in thought."Thanks again for lunch." I thanked him again."Absolutely no problem." He replied. I stood up on my toes a bit and we engulfed each other in a hug. My heart jumped wildly at his touch and his scent my nose."Bye, Barry." I was slightly muffled."Bye, Riley." He sighed. After a moment or two we let go of each other. Barry took a few steps backwards into his lab. "Go before you're late.""I'm going." I chuckled. He turned around and headed back to work with a smile on his face. As I walked down the hall I could have sworn there was a spring in his step. Saturday couldn't get here fast enough. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The rest of the week painfully dragged by much to my displeasure. The band agreed to meet up Saturday morning to do a practice session because some owner at a bar wanted some live music for a few hours the following weekend. It felt good to be playing my guitar again after a busy week of starting my job at CCPN. I got to sit back and relax by playing some music and hanging out with close friends. Nat was there at rehearsal since she and Adam were now dating. I felt happy for them. Nat especially deserved it. We all sat around in a circle deciding what we should play for the next gig. I grabbed a notebook from my bag and wrote some suggestions down. Everyone agreed for sure on a few Smallpools and Sheppard covers along with Of Monsters and Men. Chloe suggested doing a cover of 'Believe' by Mumford and Sons which everyone agreed that was a good idea. "Does anyone want to do an acoustic over of something?" I asked as I twirled the pen around my fingers. "What if we did 'Yellow'?" Todd suggested. "The Coldplay one?" Matt asked. "Yeah," Todd nodded, "Riley and I could do that one so you guys could rest for a bit." "I like that idea." Adam nodded. "A few acoustic stuff wouldn't hurt." Everyone else chimed in on agreeing. After figuring out what we wanted to play we then worked on the order of playing them. "Okay." I finished ordering the set list, "I'll make sure I type this up and print a few copies so that the sound guy has one as well." We then grabbed our instruments and ran through them a couple of times. Nat sat on the couch as she listened to us and did whatever with her phone. When we were done we packed our equipment up. "How are things with Barry?" Adam asked as we put our stuff away. "They're really good." I replied as I put a guitar away. "Were hanging out later today." "That's good." Nat smiled and gave Adam a kiss on the cheek. "What are you guys going to do?" "My parents invited me and my sister's family over for dinner." "Isn't that a little sketchy for a date?" Adam raised a brow. "No it's not a date." I shot back. "We're just hanging out. Besides, you've met my mother. I'm going to need the support so I don't die of criticism." Adam winced. "I see your point." He replied sympathetically. "Your dad's not so bad, though." "My dad's more understanding than my mom and doesn't expect perfection." I put another guitar away. "My mom and I don't exactly see eye-to-eye on things so our relationship is a bit strained." "A bit is understated." Adam pointed out. "So Barry's there to help you not suffer through it." Nat concluded. "Basically." I nodded. "Hope it goes well." Nat gave me a hug. "You better text me with details afterwards. If not, I'm hunting you down. If things work out between the two of you, I foresee double dates in the future." "That wouldn't be a bad idea." I agreed. "And I promise I'll let you know how it goes later." "See you later, Riley." Adam gave me a hug. "See you later, guys." I hugged him back then grabbed my stuff and headed out. When I got home I had a couple of hours to kill, so I took a shower and changed into something nice, but pretty casual. I slipped on a striped back and white shirt, an army green jacket I rolled to my elbows, jeans, and my dark brown combat boots. I debated on a slouchy beanie, but decided not to so I kept my hair at its usual wavy mess. I fed Link a bit of an early dinner around a quarter to five and headed out. I stopped off at Fresh Market again like last tine and grabbed a bottle of wine before heading over to Barry's. I'm on my way over. :) Great! See you soon. :) I plugged Barry's address into the navigation app on my phone and headed over there. When I arrived I parked in front of the house and took a moment to absorb it all in. It was a decent two-story house that was a grayish-green color with white trim. There was a small porch that led to the front door and a large window that faced the neighborhood. It looked like a cozy home. Nice place, I thought to myself. I shut my car off and made my way to the front door. My hands shook a little as I approached the door and my heart was beating loudly. Why was I nervous? Stop being nervous! I hesitantly pressed the doorbell and waited. There was the sound of footsteps approaching the door and it opened. "Hey, Riley." Barry greeted with a smile. Holy crap she looks amazing. "Hi, Barry." I smiled back. He leaned casually against the doorframe dressed in a navy blue and red plaid shirt with a white t-shirt beneath it, jeans, and his black high tops. "Come inside." He moved aside for me. "Nice place." I commented as I walked in. "Yeah, it's not too bad." Barry shut the door behind us. The living room was an open area to the left of us with a small step. To the right was a u-shaped staircase with dark wooden floors. They matched the trim on the walls along with the wooden panels. The walls themselves were painted a cream color that complimented the wood. "I'll be right back. Just need to go grab a jacket from upstairs." He made his way quickly up the stairs. "I can't tell you how many times he changed his clothes." Detective West chucked as he walked in from the back of the house. "Hi, Riley." "Hi, Detective West." I greeted back and shook hands with him. "Please, call me Joe." He replied. "I have a feeling we'll be seeing each other a lot more often, so there's no need for formalities." "What makes you say that?" I raised my brows. "Well for starters, Barry never shuts up about you." Joe chuckled. "I haven't seen him this happy in a good while." I gave a small smile and looked at the floor for a moment. "I can relate." I replied. "The second reason," Joe continued, "is that we caught Roger Clark." I froze. "W-what?" I stammered. "Already?" "We caught the son of a bitch. We got the evidence to prove a case, the judge gave us a warrant, and we arrested him." He explained. "Oh, my God." I breathed. "I…thank you." "We're just doing our job." Joe stuck his hands in his pockets. "We wouldn't have been able to find him so quickly if it wasn't for Barry. The moment he heard what happened he worked hard so they could get him. I can't tell you how many hours he spent at the lab to make sure we had everything we needed to get Clark." "You mean he did that…for me?" My eyes widened. "He cares a lot about you." Joe said simply. Barry came bounding down the stairs with a jacket on. "I would have shot you if you changed again, kid." "What?" Barry shrugged at Joe. He then turned to me. "You ready?" "Yea, I'm ready to head out." I nodded. "Great, we'll see you later, Joe." Barry said. Joe walked over to him and clasped a hand on his shoulder. "Keep this one, okay? I like her." Joe chuckled. "See you later, Riley." "Have a good evening, Joe." I smiled. Barry and I then made our way to the door and headed out. "So you're on a first-name basis with Joe now." Barry pointed out as we made our way to my car. "Yeah, we talked for a bit." I replied. "Mainly about you. He didn't have anything bad to say." "I think he has a biased opinion." He mused. "He also said you guys caught Clark." I added. "Yeah we did." We had stopped in front of the car. "And how you worked hard to make sure there was a case." I continued, looking over at him. "It was nothing. I had a promise to keep." Barry shrugged and smiled. Suddenly I embraced him in a hug. "Thank you." I spoke softly as I kissed him on the cheek. He wrapped his arms around me and hugged back. "You are very welcome." He spoke gently. After staying embraced in each other's arms for a bit Barry let go. "Come on, we don't want to keep your family waiting." "Right." I agreed. I unlocked the car and we both climbed in. The drive over wasn't too terribly bad. I felt a little anxious and jittery knowing that the man I like worked God knows how hard to catch a rapist just because he cared about me, was sitting right next to me. "How's your day been?" Barry asked. "Not too bad." I shrugged. "I had a rehearsal with the band this morning." "How'd that go?" "It went well. We've got a gig next Saturday at the Watering Hole." I replied. "Nice. I hope it goes well." "You should come to it." I suggested. "Maybe even invite your friends Cisco and Caitlin. They weren't able to make it to the last one." "That's not a bad idea." Barry agreed. "What time?" "It's at eight." "Well, you can definitely count me on being there." He smiled. "Great." I smiled back. Within twenty minutes we were parked outside of my childhood home. "Just to give you a heads up, my mom and I have a bit of a strained relationship. If she says anything criticizing to you, I sincerely apologize. If she bugs you about your personal life I am deeply sorry, too." "Thanks for the heads up. Anything else I need to know?" "My dad isn't too bad. He knows where to not cross the line." I added. "He's pretty easy to get along with. As for my sister she's quiet, but incredibly nice. Her husband is a pretty relaxed and open guy, but he's a nice guy, too." "Okay." Barry nodded. We climbed out of the car and I made sure to grab the bottle of wine before locking the doors. Barry gave me a curious look. "Peace offering." I explained. "Plus my dad likes wine." "Oh." He chuckled. "Where from?" "Fresh Market." "They sell wine?" "Surprisingly good ones that are cheap." "I'm going to have to keep that in mind." Barry gently took the bottle and looked at it. It was the same wine I bought the last time I had dinner with my family. We walked up to the front door and I took a deep breath. "Everything will be fine." He noticed my tension. "Easier said than done." I bit my lower lip. "Hey." He stopped us in our tracks. "You faced a hostage situation and practically warned the police about it. You stared into the face of death and survived. Dinner with your family is a piece of cake compared to this." I puffed my cheeks out and let out a breath. "Except you haven't met my mom yet." I sighed. "I'd rather face the hostage situation again than sit and be constantly criticized by my mom." "Trust me on this, okay?" He gave a small smile. He had a point. "Okay." I nodded. I pressed the doorbell and waited. The door opened revealing my father. "Hi, sweet pea!" My dad pulled me into a hug. "Hi, Daddy." I chuckled. He let go of me and smiled. "Dad, this is Barry Allen. He's a friend of mine." I introduced them to each other. "Barry, this is my father William Lewis." "Please, call me Bill." Dad stuck a hand out and Barry shook it. "Nice to meet you, Barry." "You, too, sir." Barry smiled. "We brought wine for you as well." He handed my dad the bottle. Dad took the bottle and smiled. "I like him already, Riley." Dad chuckled. "Come inside, both of you." We stepped inside and I shut the door behind us. Barry shrugged his jacket off and hung it up on the coat rack. "So this is where you grew up." Barry looked around. "Yep, this is where I lived." I nodded. "Maggie, Riley's here." Dad announced as he walked towards the kitchen. Sure enough my mom came bustling out to us. "Riley." She swooped in and hugged me. I clenched my teeth and hugged her back. "Hi, Mom." I replied. She let go of me and smiled at Barry. "Hi, you must be Barry." Mom shook hands with him. "I'm Riley's mom. You can call me Maggie." "Hi." Barry smiled. "Thank you for making sure Riley got home safely from the Jitters hostage situation." Mom gratefully said. "It's the very least I could do." Barry assured with a gentle smile. "Good man." Mom patted him on the cheek. "Dinner will be ready in half an hour. Feel free to make yourselves comfortable." She smiled and then headed back to the kitchen. "Sorry about that." I muttered. "About what?" He raised his brows. "My mom." I sighed. "Hey." Barry took my hand and squeezed it. "It's completely fine." I let out another sigh and nodded. "You should take me on a tour of the place." "I think I can do that." I gave him a small smile. He grinned as he gazed back at me. "Barry?" "Hmm?" "You're still holding my hand." "Yes, I am." He blushed, giving it another squeeze before letting go. I smiled and took him on a tour of the house. He seemed very interested in the tour, especially when we reached the living room. "You have a piano in here." He noted as he slowly walked around the living room. "Yes we do." I nodded. "That's how I got my start on playing it." Barry gave me a funny look. "What?" "You promised in the car on the way to lunch that you'd play something for me." He flashed a smile. I smiled and dropped my head a little. "You're not going to let me forget that, are you?" "Nope." He smirked. "I suppose if I have to." I concluded, walking over to the piano and pulled the bench out. I sat down on it and started at the keys for a minute, trying to figure out what to play. Barry walked over and stood by the piano. I could feel his eyes on me as he waited patiently. Once I figured out what to play, I placed my hands on the keys and began. My fingers flowed over the keys as I played a piece I had memorized. It's been a while since I last played it, but after playing it so many times the muscle memory came back instantly. As I kept playing I could still feel Barry's eyes on me. The piece was relaxing and I felt all tension disappear and I continued. Just like all pianists I swayed a little when I played. I wasn't over the top or dramatic with it because I would never hear the end about it from Nat. When I finished playing I released the pedal. I looked over at Barry who was slightly wide-eyed. "What?" I asked. "You shouldn't have dropped your piano minor." He sat down on the bench next to me and smiled. "What was that one?" "That one was 'Autumn' by Brian Crain." I explained. "I learned that one during college." "I really like that one." He smiled. "You play beautifully." "Thank you." I smiled back. "It's one of my personal favorites." "I can see why." He bumped shoulders with me and I bumped back with a chuckle. Barry looked at the piano and sighed. "My best piano skills allow me to serenade you with 'Hot Cross Buns'." To prove his point, he played it and ended with a dramatic pose. "Look, I'm you!" I whacked him on the shoulder playfully. "I do not do that." I narrowed my eyes at him, but smiled. Barry laughed in amusement. "How about we meet the others?" "Sounds like a good idea." He agreed. We stood up and I led the way to the backyard. Anna and Ethan were sitting on the patio while Sam and Rebecca were playing on the swings. "Hi, guys." I greeted as we walked out on to the deck. Anna turned around and smiled. "Hey, sis." She stood up and embraced me in a hug. Her long dark brown hair was swept up in an elegant messy bun again. God damn, she could even make messy hair look great. I hugged my sister back, her flowery scent filling my nose. "Hi, Riley." Ethan smiled as he sat back and relaxed. Anna released me from her hug, but she kept an arm around my shoulders. "Who's your friend, Riley?" Anna raised her brows in curiosity. "This is Barry Allen. He's a close friend of mine." I introduced. "Barry, this is my sister Anna and her husband Ethan." "Pleasure to meet you, Barry." Anna shook hands with him. "Nice to meet you, too." Barry smiled. Ethan stood up and shook hands with him. "Well, come sit down." Anna gently pushed me to the table. The three of us pulled the chairs out and sat down. "So how do you two know each other?" Ethan asked. "One of my photography sessions I did was with his friend and her boyfriend." I explained. "We all met up at Jitters afterwards and we've been hanging out ever since." "Aw, that's cute." Anna complimented. "So, Barry, are you from around here? What do you do for a living?" "Yes, I lived in Central City all my life." Barry replied. "And I'm a forensic scientist for the CCPD." "No offense, but you look a little young to be one." Anna said. "None taken." Barry waved it away. "I get that a lot." "Take that as a compliment." Ethan pointed out. "Once you hit forty, everything goes downhill." We all chuckled in amusement. "Aunt Riley!" Sam screamed at the top of his lungs. I turned around in my chair and found him running up to the deck. I picked him up and placed him on my leg, hugging him. Rebecca ran up and she sat on my other leg. I wrapped both of my arms around them and blew a raspberry on Rebecca's cheek. "Good grief, Rebecca, you have a bony butt. And you have a bit of dirt on your face." I shifted my leg a little. Rebecca only giggled and wiggled around, digging more into my leg. I took my thumb and gently wiped a streak of dirt on her cheek and figured I could sacrifice a leg. "Ooh, Sam, I like your shirt." Sam was wearing a Flash t-shirt and he grinned. "He's the best!" He piped up. I briefly looked over at Barry and he smiled. "Aunt Riley," Sam asked as he looked at Barry, "is he your boyfriend?" Ethan suddenly started having a coughing fit. I felt my cheeks go red and saw Anna look a bit mortified. "Sorry, choked on my spit." Ethan got the last of his coughs out. "Smooth." Anna smirked. Shit, Sam, why did you have to ask that? "Umm, no, buddy." I replied. "This is Barry. He's just a really good friend of mine." "That's what they all say." Rebecca said in my ear. I squinted at her. "You telling me you have a boyfriend at school?" I raised a brow. "Maybe." Rebecca grinned. "Jeffery and I only hold hands at recess." "I am going to have to have a word with your parents later, young lady." I teased. "Stop growing up so fast." "Oh, don't even get me started when she's actually old enough to date." Ethan groaned. "Pretty sure Dad can provide some advice on that." Anna laughed. "Barry?" Sam asked. "Do you like the Flash?" "Sam likes to ask everyone about him." Anna explained to Barry. "Yeah, I like the Flash." Barry grinned at Sam. "He's my favorite." Sam leaned over and gave him a high-five. "Can I tell you a secret?" My nephew nodded excitedly. "I've met the Flash." Sam's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "Whoa…" Sam breathed. "How? Are you really good friends with him? What's he like?" "I work with the police." Barry explained with a grin. "He and I are pretty good friends and he's a cool guy." "That's so cool." Sam smiled hugely. "And your Aunt Riley has met him, too." Barry looked up at me with a smile. "She even took his picture." Sam whipped around, looking up at me in awe. "Really?" He asked. "Yep." I nodded. "He's definitely a pretty cool guy." "When was this?" Anna asked with great interest. "First time was at Jitters with…the…you know," I tried my best to avoid directly talking about how a knife was held to my throat. "And then the second time was one night after work to make sure I was okay." "And the photo of him in the newspaper." Ethan added. "You took that one did, right?" I nodded. "Wow, I'm impressed." "Dinner's ready." Mom came out an announced. Sam slid down and he hurried inside quickly. Rebecca tapped my shoulder as everyone else headed in. "What is it?" I asked. "I think Barry should be your boyfriend." She giggled quietly as she looked at him. Barry gave her a funny look and she giggled again. "Why's that?" I asked. "He's cute." She smiled innocently. I looked over at him, admiring him from a distance. "Yeah, he is." I smiled at the thought. "Come on, let's go get some dinner." "Can I sit next to you?" "Of course you can." I agreed. We got up and followed suit into the house. "What was that about?" Barry asked quietly with a smile. "Oh, nothing." I smirked. "Just some casual girl talk between an aunt and her niece." "She looks a lot like you." He commented. "She does." I nodded. As we headed into the dining room, we all helped put the food on the table along with the dishes. Barry offered to help, but we all insisted that he'd sit since he was a guest. Dad had wine glasses for everyone except Sam, Rebecca, and Anna. He opened the bottle of wine we brought and placed it on the table. There were two dishes of lasagna along with garlic bread, green beans, and a fruit salad. Mom had brought out pitchers of fruit punch and water for the little ones and everything was set. My father and Ethan sat at both ends of the table, Anna sat next to Ethan while Sam was between her and Mom. She sat next to Dad, so that left Rebecca sitting next to Ethan, me in the middle, and Barry next to my dad. As we sat down I could see that Barry was a little nervous. I slipped my hand into his under the table and squeezed it. Barry squeezed back and gave me a small smile. With the table set Dad said a prayer to bless and thank for the meal prepared before us, then we dug in. "So, Barry," My dad started making light conversation. "What do you do for a living?" Barry took a sip of the wine I poured for him before he spoke. "I work as a forensic scientist with the CCPD." He replied. "Ah, law enforcement." Dad seemed interested. "You look a little young for a forensic scientist." "He gets that a lot, but he's great at his job." I put in. "One of the best." "I take all of the evidence we find at crime scenes and I gather any information from them to catch criminals." Barry explained. "What cases?" Dad was actually curious. "Bank robberies, break-ins, homicides, stuff like that." Barry made sure to be careful around the kids. "There was one case with the Marden brothers last year where I tracked them down to a farm based on a tire track and type of fertilizer the farm used." I raised my brows at him. Holy shit, he really was that good. "Very impressive." Ethan commented. "Do you catch the bad guys with the Flash?" Sam asked. "Sometimes I do." Barry nodded. "I like to stay in my lab and let him and the police get them." I took a forkful of lasagna and chewed thoughtfully. So far, so good. "Have you had any unexplainable cases lately?" Anna asked. "We've had a few." Barry nodded. "We're still trying to crack down the exact cause of the Bowman fire from a few days ago." "I heard about that one." Mom put in. "Riley, was that the fire they used your photo in for the paper?" I nodded. "Yeah, I was out at lunch with a coworker and we weren't too far from the site." I took a sip of wine. "I was taking pictures of the scene and managed to get the photo of him." "Aunt Riley?" Sam asked. "Hmm?" I looked over at him. "The next time you get a photo of him, could I keep it?" He asked curiously. "I want to take it to school and show it to my teacher." "How about hang it up in your room, sweetie?" Anna asked. "That way you won't lose it at school." "If I get another photo of him I promise you can have it." I smiled. "Except he likes to move really fast so it's hard to get a picture of him." Barry coughed a little suddenly and my eyes flew over to him. "Sorry." He assured. "Wrong pipe." There was a look in his eye that had me guessing for a bit. "Where did you go to school?" Mom asked. "I went to the high school here in town and then for college I went to CCU." "Riley went to both of them." Dad commented. "Yeah, we found out we graduated the same year for both." Barry nodded. "And you guys never ran into each other?" Ethan asked. "Nah, I was the artistic musical kid that hung out in the band and art room." I said as I cut into my piece of lasagna. "There's no way we would have crossed paths in college. That campus is huge." "We might have had a few classes together in high school." Barry pursed his lips in thought. I tried my best in building up a steel wall to prevent myself from reading his mind. It took a lot of effort. "If not that, I might have seen you in the library or working on a mural." "I remember making those." I recalled. "I made one for the science wing and another one for a stairwell." "I remember walking by those!" It dawned on Barry. "I had AP science classes and every time I walked by the one in the science wing I kept wondering who made that." "Yeah, that was me." I smiled. "I do remember seeing you work on the one in the stairwell." Barry replied. "That one was my favorite." I explained. "The art teacher for that class gave me a mural project and had me paint something that had to do with Central City. So, I painted the skyline." "I think the yearbook staff managed to get a picture of you painting it." Barry's brows furrowed as he concentrated. "Your hair was longer, though." I chuckled and nodded. "Do you have any family around?" Mom asked. Uh oh… "I'm an only child, but yes I have family." Barry replied. "My mother died when I was eleven and given to certain circumstances, I was taken in by a family friend and his daughter who is my age. He's a detective with the police and his daughter is one of Riley's coworkers. She helped her get the job at CCPN, actually. They've been really good to me growing up and they became my adopted family." Something flickered in my mother's eyes. I knew she wouldn't be capable of getting a job on her own. She's too wrapped up on that damn band and photography business of hers, my mother thought coldly. "What about your father?" "Umm," Barry shifted a little uncomfortably in his seat. "That's okay." Dad noticed and waved it away. He knew my mom was staring to reach an uncomfortable topic. I narrowed my eyes a little at my mom and she looked away from me. "My father wasn't around much when I was growing up. No hard feelings, Barry." Barry gave a small smile and nodded. We continued eating dinner and Mom stopped with the personal questions. Barry had at least four servings of lasagna and some ungodly number of garlic bread pieces. "How are you not fat?" I asked as soon as everyone was out of earshot to grab desert. "You ate like almost everything." "I…run a lot." Barry shrugged. "And I have a fast metabolism." I shook my head in disbelief as Anna brought out three pies for desert. Dad also brought out some home-made ice cream. "There's apple, cherry, and blueberry." She directed. Apple was my absolute favorite. I got myself a slice and put a scoop of vanilla on top. It was heavenly bliss in my mouth when I took a bite. "Anna, this is frigging delicious." I groaned. "Rebecca helped make that one." Anna smiled. She knew it was my favorite. I looked down at Rebecca and she grinned back. "You did a good job, kiddo." I rubbed her on the head. We continued with desert and talked some more with each other. Barry was able to get to know everyone a little better by learning what they did for a living. They were able to get to know him better as well, too. When it was half past eight Sam was starting to fall asleep on the couch. That was Anna's cue that she needed to get them home to bed. That was our cue to leave as well. I exchanged hugs with my family as Barry shook hands. When I hugged Anna I was careful to avoid the slight baby bump that was appearing. "Thank you so much for dinner." Barry thanks my parents. "The food was delicious." Dad gave him a firm handshake. "Absolutely no problem. It was a pleasure meeting you." Dad smiled. "Come back any time." Mom said as I handed Barry his jacket. "We'll keep that in mind." I agreed as we headed out the door. "G'night, guys." "Drive safe, you two." Dad called as we made our way to my car. "I'll make sure she does." Barry grinned. As we headed to my car, Barry opened my door for me. "I think I made a lasting impression on them." "I am more than certain that you did." I smiled as I climbed in. He climbed in on his side and I started the car. Once we were buckled in, we made our way back to Barry's. "Sorry about my mom and her questions." "It's fine." He assured. "I was a bit worried when she started asking questions about your parents." I said bitterly. "Years of people asking has taught me ways to work around it." He took my free hand and gently squeezed it. "Pretty sure that saying your dad is in prison for something he didn't do may give your parents the wrong impression about me." He chuckled. "Just a bit." I chuckled with him. "In all seriousness I do think they all really like you. Especially Sam." "I would hope so." He smiled. As we drove to his place we kept talking about the evening. "You're quite adorable around your niece and nephew." "I love them to death." I smiled. "That was also pretty cute what you did when Sam asked you questions. He absolutely loves the Flash. I think he'd die of happiness if he ever met him." Barry chuckled as he looked ahead. Eventually we reached his house and I park in the front like earlier. "Joe's not home." He observed. "Must be out somewhere." I shut the car engine off and we climbed out. Barry waited as I came around over to him. He offered his arm and I looped mine around his as we made our way up to the porch. "I had a really good time tonight." "Yeah, it wasn't too bad." I agreed with a small smile. "To be honest I was worried that you would think it was weird to have dinner with my family." "Nah, your family's great." Barry assured. "I really like them." "Good." I smiled. "I still think we should do a dinner date sometime. I owe you one by now." My heart fluttered at the idea. "I wouldn't protest to that." I smiled as we reached the porch, climbing up the steps. We reached the top and both of us casually leaned against the columns. I noticed him staring at me again. "What? Do I have something on my face?" "No." Barry chuckled. "You just look really nice." I smiled sheepishly and looked away for a bit, sticking my hands in my pockets. Since I first met Barry, I haven't heard that from anyone who was deliberately trying to get into my pants. Though they phrased it quite differently. "Well, thank you." I rocked a little on my feet and smiled. "You look quite dashing." "Dress to impress." He reminded me. "That indeed." I laughed. I looked up at the sky and saw a few stars in the sky. I could make out the Orion constellation along with a few others. "When I was younger we used to go camping out in the country during the summer just to get away from the city for a few days. All of that light pollution was gone and you could really see sky for what it is. You could see trillions of stars and bands from the Milky Way. A lot times we would lay out on blankets and just watch meteor showers together." I let out a happy sigh at the memory. My God, she's beautiful, Barry thought. I flinched slightly at his sudden 'voice'. I completely forgot that I dropped my barrier. I turned a little and looked over at him, eyeing his lips every few seconds. He slowly approached me with a gentle smile on his face. I couldn't help but smile back at him. For once in my life I actually felt happy. Happier than I was with Grant before he cheated on me. I closed the space between us and smiled at him. "Your eyes are really green." I spoke quietly as I gazed at him. "So are yours." He tucked a loose strand behind my ear. His eyes every so often kept flickering to my lips. Just do it. Just kiss her, Barry. God I really wanted to kiss him, too! I slowly leaned in towards him, head tilted a little as I drew near. I could feel his breath tickle my face and the scent of his cologne fill my nose. My heart was beating so loudly I was afraid he could hear it. It was beating so fast that I was afraid it would burst out of my chest. My eyes fluttered down to his lips and I closed my eyes. Then I felt his soft lips on mine. He was very gentle with the kiss as we held it. All thoughts I heard from my own and everyone around me completely disappeared. There was nothing. Just silence and it never sounded so sweet. I felt one of his hands come up and lightly cup my cheek, his thumb lightly caressing it. As we kissed each other the spinning world stopped around us. I felt weightless and something burst on the inside. Something…happy. We parted slowly, gazing at each other. "Whoa…" I murmured, a little breathless from the kiss. "I've wanted to do that for a while." Barry said softly. "Really?" A coy smile appeared on my face. "Since the night we almost did, but your cat interrupted us." "He got jealous." I mused. "Damn cat." I would never forgive him for that. Barry laughed softly and I pressed my lips against his. He smiled into it as both of his hands cupped my face and I lightly gripped his forearms. He moved his mouth expertly over mine and mine moved with his. When we pulled back after several long moments I saw small flashes. "…I see stars…" I murmured softly. "What?" He smiled. "I see stars." I mused. Barry chuckled in amusement. "Maybe I should stop so you can breathe." He rested his forehead against mine and relaxed his hands on my waist. "Nonsense." I disagreed. He was a really good kisser. "You sure you haven't dated much?" "I'm positive." He kissed my forehead. "Though I must say, I'm quite impressed." I blushed. "I try." I shrugged. "Well you definitely caught my attention." He smiled. I let out a happy sigh and closed my eyes for a minute. "I really did have a good time tonight." "I'm glad you did." I smile back at him. We stayed quiet like that for a bit until Barry's phone rang. He let out a groan and buried his face into my shoulder. "I'm sorry I'm such a buzzkill." His voice was muffled. I laughed and gently pulled his face towards mine. "You did nothing wrong." I assured him. To prove my point, I gave him another kiss and smiled. "You'd better get that." Barry fished his phone out of his pocket and answered it. "Hello?" He greeted. His face furrowed within a few seconds. "Yeah, just give me a bit." There was more silence. "Cisco says hi." I chuckled. "Tell him he's a dick for ruining the moment." I giggled. "Riley says you're a dick for ruining the moment." Barry spoke and waited a bit. "He says he sorry." I stuck out my tongue and he grinned. "Yeah, I'll be there in a bit. Just hold on. See you soon." He hung up the phone. "Sorry." He winced. "Nah, it's fine. I have a jealous cat waiting for me at home." I smiled. "You sure?" He raised his brows. "I'm positive." I nodded. "Do you need a ride?" "No, I'm good. It's within running distance." He replied. "Okay." I smiled at him. Barry leaned down and kissed me with a little more urgency than the previous kisses. "I'll call you tomorrow." He broke away from the kiss, leaving me breathless. "I promise you that." "I'm holding you to it." I smirked. "G'night, Barry." "G'night, Riley." He kissed my forehead. Barry made sure I got into my car before he went off to do whatever Cisco needed him for. With a honk from my car and a wave from him, I took off towards home. The entire drive home I was on cloud nine and I enjoyed every moment of it. When I got home I flopped on to my bed on my back. Link jumped up and head-butted me. I scratched him behind the ears. "Looks like you now aren't the only guy in my life." I kissed the top of his head. Link glowered at me and yawned. For the rest of the evening I was too happy to sleep. I grabbed my guitar and played it until I was too tired to stay awake. When I went to bed, it greeted me with a pleasant drowsy feeling and I slumbered off to sleep peacefully. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Just as Barry promised he called me the next day. We talked about all sorts of things; the previous night, the kiss, more interest, our favorite stuff, etc. We also planned the dinner date for Wednesday at an Italian restaurant."Is there a specific dress code you'd like?" I asked while I was painting something."Wear something nice." He replied. My mind went to the black dress I wore to gallery exhibit openings."I can do that." I agreed."I might be a bit late from work, so just meet me there at seven-thirty." Barry added."Definitely sounds like a plan." I smiled. We continued to talk a bit more after that. Barry explained how Cisco needed help on something. I didn't poke too much because I respected Barry's personal business. I didn't want to come across as a creepy stalker chick. That came off really well when I was still with Grant. However, Barry did say Cisco was eager to come to the gig on Saturday. They texted Caitlin and she agreed as well. Cool, I get to meet some of the people who saved Barry's life.After we hung up I called Nat and spilled the beans about last night. When I told her about the kiss she let out a scream so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear. God she had a pair of lungs. We continued talking until there was a knock at my door."Hang on, Nat, I'll call you back." I spoke and hung up. Quickly I wiped the paint off of my hands and headed to the door. When I looked in the peephole I was very surprised to find my mother standing there. "What the…?" I murmured. She never came here by herself. She was always with Dad when she was here. This can't be good. I sighed and unlocked the door, letting her in."We need to talk." She stormed in, her mouth a very thin line."Good morning to you, too." I frowned as I closed the door. Mom stood there in the middle of my apartment and made a face at the surroundings."I don't know why you continue to live here after that explosion went off." She shook her head in disgust. Link darted to my room to hide beneath my bed. He hated my mom and I don't blame him."Because it's still in good condition and affordable." I crossed my arms. "What do you want?""We need to talk about that Barry fellow." Mom spoke."What about him?""I don't want you getting involved with him." She replied flatly. What?"Excuse me?" I narrowed my eyes."You heard me. I don't want you to see him." She clarified."Why?" I scoffed. I couldn't believe what I was hearing."I don't want my daughter getting involved with the son of a criminal!" Mom's voice was rising. "I did some digging last night because his name sounded familiar. His father murdered his wife!""His father was trying to save her because he was a doctor!" My voice shook. "What the hell, Mom? I'm twenty-five years old. Why for fuck's sake are you deciding who I should be with?""Because I want you safe!""Barry works with the CCPD, his adopted father is a police detective for the CCPD, his friend's boyfriend is also a detective for the CCPD." I listed off. "I'm pretty sure he's not a criminal. He's definitely not a fucking cheater like Grant!""How would you know? Don't you dare use that language, young lady!""I'll use it all the fucking hell I want." I shot back at her. "And if you wonder how I know, I actually trust Barry. Barry actually care about me.""His father is in prison!" She reminded."For a crime he didn't commit!" My hands trembled. "Why are you so critical of everything I do?""Because you're my daughter!""Because I'm your daughter or you want me to be like Anna?" I demanded furiously. "News flash, Mom, I'm nothing like Anna. I'm not married to some successful business man like Ethan. I don't have children and I'm not perfect like her. I never was! I fought so hard for your approval all my life, but I'm fucking done trying to please you. I was the kid who liked getting dirty and play outside; not compete in stupid shit like pageants that Anna did. I'm done being compared to Ana. I'm not her and I will never be like her. So stop trying to fucking control my God damn life, learn to respect my privacy, and learn to fucking accept who I am.""I do not criticize you! Nor do I compare you to your sister!""God, you're such a hypocrite!" I cried. "You did it all the time when I was in school. Hell, you do it now because of my photography business and my band. You keep trying to push this mindset where you want me to be like you and Anna, but I'm nothing like you. I'm not perfect. You wonder why I always came to Dad for help? Dad understood everything. He never expected perfection or forced me to do something I didn't want to do." Mom stood there trembling in anger."I still don't want you to see him.""You can't control my life." I shot back. "You know what? I don't have to listen to this shit. Just please get out.""Riley— ""I said 'GET OUT'!" I shouted at her. A strange look came over her face and she headed towards the door."You are no daughter of mine." She took one last look before slamming the door behind her. I stared at the door in disbelief. It felt like I got sucker punched in the gut. Her words kept echoing in my mind. Link came from my room and jumped on the couch, meowing at me with a questionable look."She…disowned me?" Tears pricked at my eyes. Quickly I grabbed my phone and dialed Nat again."About damn time you call me back. What the hell happened?" Nat answered annoyed."Nat?" My voice trembled. "Something bad happened between me and my mom…" She was quiet for a moment."Do you want me to come over?" Nat asked gently. "I can grab something from Jitters.""Please?" A few tears fell down. I took a deep breath, trying to hold myself together."Give me half an hour, okay?""Okay." I nodded."I'll see you soon. Hang in there, Riley.""I'll do what I can." I agreed. Nat hung up and I laid face down on the couch for a bit. I couldn't keep it together anymore; I completely broke. Last time I cried this hard was the day I ended it with Grant. Only those tears were of hatred and betrayal. These were of pain and loss. Why was it hitting me so hard? I tried so hard to win her approval during high school, even now. Because she's your mother, a small voice told me.Link came out from beneath my bed and curled up next to me. He purred loudly and licked my nose. He looked at me with curiosity and head-butted me. I curled up with him and buried my face in his soft, velvet black fur. I debated on calling Barry. I wanted him to be over here, but then I would have to explain that my mom looked him up and learned about his dad. I knew how he felt about the subject. I laid there on my side for a while until I heard a knock at my door.I hope she's okay, Nat's mental voice reached me. I'm worried about her. I let out a sigh and reluctantly got up. Link stayed in his spot and watched me open the door. Nat stood there with a to-go bag of baked goods and two cups of coffee from Jitters."God, Riley." She hurried through the door. "You look like shit.""Hello." I mumbled and closed the door behind her. Nat put the bag and coffee on the coffee table then hung her jacket up. She came over to me and wrapped her arms around me. I numbly returned the hug."Let's get you some coffee and a banana nut muffin in you." She guided me to the couch and we sat down. Link moved his perch to the back of the couch, facing towards me. He butted my hand with his head and I scratched him affectionately. Nat smiled at the sight. "You've got quite the mamma's boy for a cat." Nat scratched him near his tail and he lifted his rear end in response. When Nat fished out the baked goods and handed me my coffee, Link settled back down lazily flicking his tail."Thanks." I said as she handed me my food. A faint smell of caramel reached my nose. "You know me all too well, Nat.""What are friends for?" She took a sip of her coffee and grimaced. "Shit, that burned my tongue.""They don't put those caution warnings on there for nothing." I raised a brow, pulling my knees to my chin."Yeah, whatever, smartass." She stuck her tongue at me. I chuckled weakly in amusement. She propped an elbow on the couch and rested her head against her hand. "So, what happened?" I took a careful sip and let out a sigh."Well,"" I began. "During dinner last night my mom practically interrogated Barry on his personal life. When it came to the subject of his parents it got awkward because his mom died when he was eleven.""Oh, God," Nat breathed. "That's horrible. How?""His mom was murdered." I stared at my coffee. "The police arrested his father and imprisoned him because they thought he killed her.""He didn't do it, did he?" Nat's eyes were wide."No." I shook my head. "They arrested him because they found him covered in her blood and a knife was nearby. The evidence may have looked pretty damning, but he didn't do it. Barry's dad was a doctor. He was trying to save her, not kill her.""So his dad is sitting in Iron Heights for a crime he didn't commit.""Yes." I nodded. "They don't know anything about the real killer. Barry said he saw something that night, but no one believed him. They all thought he was being delusional or trying to cover up for his dad.""What did he see?" She asked."This is going to sound nuts, but he said he saw a yellow man in lightning." I winced. Nat was quiet for a moment."Honestly I'm not surprised." She replied. 'This city's seen some weird shit after that explosion at S.T.A.R. Labs.""Yeah, but this happened long before the explosion." My brows furrowed."So how do you explain it?""I don't know." I shook my head."Well, what else happened with your mom?" Nat asked."She must've done some digging on him because she was pretty pissed off when she was over here earlier. She told me she didn't want me seeing or getting involved with Barry." I sighed."The fuck?" Nat's jaw dropped. "W-what?""Yep." I frowned. "A mother tries to control her twenty-five-year-old daughter's life.""What did you do?""I blew up in her face." I replied. "I defended Barry and then it ended up being more of my mom making me be more like Anna. We ended up yelling at each other." I could feel the pressure of tears forming. "Then she told me I wasn't her daughter anymore." A few silent tears fell down my face as Nat clasped a hang over her mouth."Oh, my God." She breathed. "Riley, I'm so sorry." I swallowed and took a sip from my coffee."Yeah," I stared at the floor. "Me, too.""Are you going to tell Barry?" She asked. I let out a sigh."I will." I ran my fingers through my hair. "Later. I don't want to bug him right now with this." Nat pulled me into a hug."I may not know Barry as well as you do, but he seems like a really great guy to talk to and someone who understands. Don't forget that, okay?""I won't forget." I agreed. She released me from the hug and we continued sipping our coffee."How does your dad and the others feel about Barry?" Nat asked carefully."They all seemed to really like him." I bit into my muffin. "Dad was pretty impressed on how he tracked the Marden brothers to a farm simply by telling from a tire track in some animal shit.""Really?" Her eyes went wide. "Damn, girl, you got yourself a superhero of some sorts.""More of a behind-the-scenes hero." I shrugged."Still, that's like crazy good." She pointed out. I gave her a small smile in amusement. Nat stayed with me for a few more hours to make sure I was okay. When Nat left later in the day I ordered some takeout from Jaded Dragon. I wasn't in a good mood to cook with the events of today. Barry texted me later as well. I was reluctant to tell him, but this was something he needed to know. My mom and I got into a fight earlier today… Do you need me to come over? That's not necessary. That's girl code for 'Yes, please come over.' :P No it's not. It's really not necessary. Nope. I'm coming over. Just give me a few minutes and I'll be there. I'm at Cisco's so it won't take me long. You sure? I don't want to bug you. I'm sure. I know that from the moment we first started talking to each other. I bit my lip and slowly smiled. Okay… Just give me a few minutes. Do you need anything to eat? Nah, I ordered Chinese. Well, I'll stop off at Big Belly to grab something for myself. Then I'll be over. Okay. True to his word, Barry showed up a few minutes later with my Chinese food."I caught the delivery guy on the way up." He smiled sheepishly."Oh, my God, you're amazing." I took my food from him and let him inside."I try." He closed the door behind us. I headed into the kitchen and put my stuff on the table. Barry followed me and did the same. I let out a sigh and scratched my forehead. "You okay?" He asked with a cautious gaze."I'm fine." I assured. "Just a long day." Barry walked over to me and gently slipped his hands in mine."What happened? I'm assuming this is about your mom." He asked gently and I nodded."She came over this morning all batshit crazy. She did some digging on you and found out what really happened to your parents. She told me she didn't want me to get involved with you." Hurt and anger flashed behind his eyes."W-what?" Barry stammered."I know." I replied. "She found out the truth about your dad and she told me to stay away from you.""And?""I told her she could fuck off." I shrugged. "She can't control my life and that I'm not my sister. She didn't take that too well and it turned into a shouting match, which in the end resulted in her saying that I'm not her daughter anymore." Barry slowly let go of my hands and started pacing the kitchen. "Barry?""This is my fault. I'm so sorry." His face was creased with worry. "You shouldn't lose your relationship with your mom." I walked up to him and slipped my hands in his."I've had an estranged relationship with her eve since I was a kid. You've had nothing to do with this." I looked up at him. "I promise you that.""Do…do you regret last night? The kiss?" Sadness filled his eyes."No." I shook my head. "I don't regret a single second of it. I'm not embarrassed either. You could have wings or something and I still wouldn't care." Barry let out a chuckle and wrapped his arms around me. I buried my face against his chest and let out a sigh, tension escaping me."Feel better?" He asked. I looked up at him and planted a soft kiss on his lips. Barry kissed back, moving his mouth methodically over mine. Then I could feel him smiling into it before pulling back."Much better." I agreed."Let's get some food in you." He smiled and kissed me on the nose. I greatly appreciated Barry's company the rest of the time he was there. At first I was afraid he wouldn't take the news so well. I think his opinion changed when I told my mom off or that I wasn't embarrassed by the fact his dad is in prison. Barry knew the truth of what happened that night and I believe him.Over the course of the next few days I couldn't help but be happy. Sure, there was the whole ordeal with my mom saying I wasn't her daughter anymore, but I could give zero shits about it. I'm done trying to please her. If she wants to make up, she has to be the one to apologize. She hasn't spoken to me since Sunday.On Tuesday evening I decided to treat myself by going to the bookstore after work. I was in major need of updating the classical novels of my personal library. After I got off of work that evening, I headed back to my apartment, grabbed a quick dinner, and walked to the bookstore. It wasn't too far and one of those ones with a coffee shop. When I walked into the bookstore I was greeted with the scent of coffee and the pages of books waiting to be read. When I was younger my dad used to say I had more books than friends. Mom was concerned about that, but Dad said it made me more imaginative.I headed to the classical section and lightly ran my fingers along the spines of the books I've read. My fingers drummed over other books until I landed on a copy of Dracula. I pulled it out and thumbed through the pages. I set the copy back and searched for another book. There was a collection of works by Poe and another one that was entirely of Shakespeare. I didn't have anything by Shakespeare in my arsenal. Maybe I'll get it. I also felt like in a writing mood so I headed to the journal section.I was picky on journals. Really picky. I tended to write a lot so I usually tend to go for the journals with lots of pages. I took a bit in browsing the books and let out a frustrated sigh."Hard time picking one?" A woman spoke. I looked up to find an older woman with short blond hair and a nice looking coat on."Yeah, happens every time I come here." I nodded and stood up. "I write in my free time.""It's nice to see the younger generation write in books." The woman smiled."Best way to organize one's thoughts." I smiled. The woman looked at the journals and then back at me."I recommend this one." She pulled one off and handed it to me. The book was thick with pages and a leather cord wrapped around the book. The cover was a light tan with actual music printed on it."It's perfect." I smiled at the book."You have the hands of a pianist." The woman mused."I did major in music for a bit in college, but then I switched to photography." I replied. "My professor wasn't the greatest.""What a shame." The woman shook her head. "Do you still play?""I do, actually." I nodded. "I still play piano and have a band.""Such a musical spirit." The woman murmured. "Don't' let anyone tell you you're not good enough." She grasped my hand and smiled."Will do." I chuckled and smiled. The woman patted my hand and left. I smiled at the thought.What a nice lady. Before I paid for the journal and Shakespeare book I took a quick look at the fiction novels. One in particular interested me; The Night Circus. A while back Thalia and I were discussing books and she'd brought it up. It had a Harry Potter-vibe with the magic and spells, but it took place in the past with a gothic setting.It was about two people who practiced in magic that worked at a peculiar circus. One was a woman who posed as an illusionist while the other was a man who served as an assistant to the creator of the circus. The two are destined to duel each other, but they fall in love. The summary striked me with a great deal of interest so I grabbed a copy. I paid for my books and headed out."Riley?" An all-too-familiar voice called out as I headed in the direction of my apartment. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath."Shit." I muttered quietly to myself. I turned around to find Grant standing close by. "Grant," I forced a smile. "Hi.""Hey," He approached me smoothly. "Did you get anything good?""What?" I was surprised."The bag from the bookstore." Grant gestured to the bag. "Did you get anything good?""Yeah, I got a few things." I replied. "Did…you follow me?" Be civilized, Riley."I remember you like to go here." He shrugged."I see." I said with some uncertainty."I swear I'm not stalking you." He held his hands up in defense. I gave him a hard look, but slacked off a little. "How have you been since the whole hostage situation at Jitters?""I've been a little on edge, but it's gotten better." I replied."I could have sworn they were going to kill you right there on the spot.""They didn't, though.""Because of the Flash.""Yes." I nodded. We were quiet for a bit."So are you and that Barry guy still hanging out and seeing each other?" Grant asked."Yeah, took him to meet my parents and Anna's family. They all really like him" I purposely left out where my mother stormed into my apartment. He didn't need to know that."Oh." He replied numbly. "I…don't like it.""No one said you had to" I put back."Well, I know but he's all…""Skinny and socially awkward?" I finished. "So what? I'm the same way. You didn't seem to have a problem with me until…""Until I fucked up." Grant sighed. "I regret that day so much.""Which part? The part where we broke up or the part where I caught you fucking another woman and you lied to me for months?" Grant flinched. "You broke me, Grant. For months, you broke me and I felt worthless. I thought I wasn't good enough for anyone because you cheated on me. What did I do to deserve that? What did I do wrong?""It wasn't you…" He began."Bullshit on the whole "It's not you, it's me'. It very well had something to do with me! Was it the sex? Was it not good enough? Is that why you cheated on me with some hooker?" I trembled a little."Riley, stop. You're causing a scene." He shifted uncomfortably from the unwanted eyes of passing people."So what if I cause a scene?" I threw my hands up. "At least now people know what a lying and cheating scum you are. I'm happy with Barry, okay? If you don't like it, then fine. Don't think you can come crawling back and apologize to make everything all hunky-dory." I let out a sigh. "Just go. Please." A funny look reached Grant's face."Fine. Have a nice life." He turned and left. Fucking bitch. I tried to be civil. Hope that Benny guy dumps her ass. I glared at his back.Go fuck yourself with a cactus! I mentally screamed at him. I turned and headed in the direction of my apartment. The walk was quiet as I got lost in my thoughts. I was so occupied I nearly missed the turn into the alley I used as a shortcut. I stopped myself and sighed. They alley was dark and creepy, but it was the quickest way home. I checked my keys for my pepper spray. Feeling a little secure, I took a deep breath and headed down the alley.Unpleasant smells reached my noise as I trudged on. Sewer smells crept up from the drains, dumpsters had rotting trash, and a couple of men were standing by a corner. Just keep moving. I walked quickly and tried to not draw any attention.She's a young thing, one of them thought.Wonder what she's got under all of that, the other thought.God damn it, I swore. Just keeping walking, Lewis. You have pepper spray. If something happens, just yell. I kept walking towards the other end of the alley. Just halfway there!"Where you going, sweet cheeks?" One cat-called. I ignored and kept moving, readying the pepper spray."He said," One shoved me against a brick wall. "Where are you going?" Pain seared my face as it met the wall. My face stung as I felt a small gash well up. I quickly pulled the pepper spray out and turned around, aiming the pepper spray at the closest thug and fired. He howled in pain as the concoction burned his eyes."You bitch!" He roared. The other lunged at me and pinned me to the wall."You'll pay for that!" He sneered. His foul breath wafted over me and I gagged."Help!" I screamed as loud as I could. "Help! Somebody help!" I flinched as the man drew closer to my face."Shut up." He snarled. I whimpered and closed my eyes. There was a sudden gust of wind that filled the alley."I'd let her go if I were you." A familiar voice spoke. My eyes snapped open in bewilderment. The Flash stood behind the thugs and he was pissed."Or what?" The thug asked."Suit yourself." The Flash smirked. In a bolt of lightning he disappeared with the two thugs. I slid to the ground in a heap, leaning against the wall. As quickly as he disappeared, the Flash came back. Loose papers and trash scattered around me in the sudden wind."Are you alright?" The Flash extended a hand. I gratefully took it and stood up."I'm a little banged up, but I'll survive." I sighed. He gently took my cheek in one hand and examined it closely."You've got a shallow graze on your cheek." He observed. I wince a little at the stinging pain. "Sorry." He apologized."It's what I get for going down an alley." I shrugged it off. "I was walking home from the bookstore and tried to take a shortcut." The Flash looked around at our surroundings."Where do you live?" He asked."The apartment building a few blocks from S.T.A.R. Labs." I pointed in the direction."Do you trust me?" His gaze softened. A small hopeful smile reached his lips. I blinked in disbelief, getting a little lost."Y-yes." I stammered."Hold on tight." He instructed. He picked me up bridal style and I clung tightly to him. He smiled down at me and then we took off running. Everything was a blur of noise and color as we sped past the city. My heart hammered wildly in my chest as I held on for dear life. The wind whipped my hair around and I buried my face into the speedster's shoulder. Within a matter of second we reached the rooftop of my apartment building."Holy shit!" I gasped. The Flash chuckled in amusement and set me down. I took a step forward, but stumbled."Whoa, you okay?" He helped me stand up."Just a little dizzy." I reassured him.You'll be fine in a few minutes." He replied. "It happens." I inhaled through my nose and out of my mouth, trying to calm myself down. "You're a magnet for danger.""I realize that." I nodded."I'd relax a bit if you took up some self-defense classes." He crossed his arms, eyeing at me."I had pepper spray on me.""What if they have a weapon? What would you do, then?" He asked. I was quiet for a bit."I see your point." My face fell."I know I'm not the only person around here that's concerned for your safety.""You're right." I agreed. "God, Barry would throw a fit if that actually happened.""Who?" The Flash asked, his eyes sparking with curiosity."A friend of mine that I like." I replied. "Not exactly dating yet." The Flash walked over to the ledge and looked out at the city."Seems like a nice guy." He mused."How—" I began to ask."I run all over the city." The Flash explained. "Some days I happen to see you with him. Plus, Iris talks about him.""Oh," I said quietly. Relax, Riley. She's with Eddie. The Flash turned around to face me again."You should get inside. I don't need you in more danger.""Knowing me and my luck, you're probably right." I agreed."Stay safe." He gave me a small smile. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The next day at work I could barely contain myself. I had my date with Barry tonight and I really wanted to talk to Iris. The small scratch on my cheek scabbed up overnight, but it wasn't serious. "What happened to your cheek?" Iris asked at my desk. "I was walking home from the bookstore last night and I tripped." I lied. I didn't want her to worry as well. "God, Riley, you have the worst luck in the world." She sighed. "I'm highly aware of that." I stuck my tongue out at her. She laughed in amusement. "Do you have anything in mind you're wearing for tonight?" "I've got this black dress I wear for art gallery exhibitions." I replied. "Someday we need to go shopping. I'm predicting some double dates in the future." "I'd like that." I smiled. "So where are you guys going for dinner?" "Some Italian restaurant I've always wanted to try. It's sort of close to CCU, but I never went there while I was school." "I think I know which one you're talking about." She nodded. "Good luck tonight and have fun." "Thanks, Iris." I flashed a smile. While I worked, I looked at places that offered some self-defense classes. There was a gym around here that did some boxing. Their prices seemed affordable. Apparently, it was part of a branch in Starling City, but it discontinued after some unknown reason. The next available time was Saturday afternoons at two. I wouldn't start this week, but I would next week. I let out a sigh. Was this really a good idea? No, but it was probably necessary since I'm a magnet for danger. Nothing real exciting happened for the rest of the day at work. Larkin sent me to a grand opening of a restaurant down by the pier, but that was about as exciting as it got. Andrew was there as well. We worked together, occasionally talking about work and more of our personal lives. On the plus side, he didn't come off as an asshole that he was a few days ago. After the work day was done I made a direct beeline for home. When I got home I immediately showered and bow dried my hair. I shimmied into the black dress and did my hair to make it wavy. Normally I didn't use makeup, but I made an exception for tonight. I used the same eyeshadow when Nat and I went out and applied some lip gloss. Before I left I made sure Link was fed. With one last look in the mirror I took a deep breath and sighed. "Here goes nothing." I locked my door and headed down to my car. My phone buzzed with a text from Nat. Good luck you sexy thang! Make good choices ;) Oh my God shut up. :P Never. Let me know how it goes. :) Will do. :) I got in my car and headed to the restaurant Barry and I were going to. I felt butterflies in my stomach and my hands were shaky. "Oh, please don't throw up." I moaned to myself. "It's just a date." I did a bunch of deep breathing as I made my way over. When I reached the restaurant, I saw Barry out by the front entrance. He was on time and sharply dressed. Holy shit, my jaw dropped. I pulled into the parking lot and pulled into a spot. I grabbed my bag, shut the car off, and made my way to Barry. The cold air pierced my legs and made me pull my leather jacket closer to me. When I approached Barry at the front door his eyes widened and his mouth hung open a little. I stopped in my tracks and blushed sheepishly. Holy shit, his thoughts raced. Holy shit she looks beautiful. "You're staring." I chuckled. "I…you…" He stammered. "You look amazing." "Well, so do you." I smiled up at him as I approached closer. I stood on my toes a bit and kissed his cheek. "Shall we go inside?" Barry asked, blushing a bit. "We shall." I nodded. He stepped aside and opened the door for me. As we walked in, the aroma of food made my stomach rumble. There was the soft murmur of people talking to each other and soft music playing in the background. Then there was the unspoken conversation of the thoughts of the people. A host was at the front are writing things down. He looked up as we approached him. "Just the two of you?" He flashed a curious look in my direction. She looks gorgeous! "Yes." Barry replied. The host looked down at a chart and grabbed two menus. "Right this way." Barry stood aside and let me go first, following closely behind. The host led us around the corner to a booth for two. He placed the menus on the table and stood back. "Your waiter will be with you shortly." The host then left us. I slid on to my side and slipped my jacket off. Barry sat across from me and let out a breath. "Did Joe get irritated at you again with the constant changing of clothes?" I gave him a small smile. "Actually, no." Barry smiled. "I was able to pick something out and stick with it." "I'm impressed." I chuckled. "I think he's pretty grateful for that." He chuckled as well. We were quiet for a bit as we flipped through the menus. "Do you want any wine?" "Only if you want." I replied. "You can pick whatever you'd like." He didn't seem to mind. "You sure?" I raised my brows. "Even if it's girly?" "Even if it's girly." "In that case I will go with red." I studied the choice of red they had. As I studied the menu, my mind wandered a bit and I could hear several mental conversations. God, I hope Claire says yes. Gotta make sure everything goes according to plan. Got to put the ring in the bottom of her glass. She'll drink it and then see the ring at the bottom. Then I'll get down on one knee and ask her. Someone was going to propose. I pray to fucking God that Rick doesn't find out about this. He'll kill me. He'll kill James if he finds out… Some woman was being unfaithful. I let out a mental sigh. Some people just can't be satisfied with who they're with. Once I settled on one, I flipped to the dinner selection. Each dinner came with a side of soup or salad. Given with the ridiculous amounts of gnocchi soup I've been eating over the past few days, I went with a salad. "Good evening, my name is Lucy and I'll be your waiter tonight." A blond woman approached us. "What can I get you started with?" "We'll do a bottle of Merlot and I'll have the stuffed ravioli dinner." I put my order in. "I'll have the chicken parmesan." Barry ordered his. "Would you both like the soup or salad?" Lucy asked. "Salad." We replied. I raised a brow. "And dressing?" "Ranch." Barry replied. "Raspberry vinaigrette." I answered. "And anything else to drink besides the wine?" Lucy asked. "Just water." We replied. Lucy finished scribbling the order down. "Great, I'll get that in." She replied, taking our menus and then walked away, leaving us alone. "You're staring again, Barry." I flushed. "I can't help it." He shrugged sheepishly. "You look beautiful. Always do." I chuckled and shook my head. "Okay, now you're just sucking up." I mused. Barry's mouth dropped open a little, but he chuckled as well. "I am not." He mused. "I seriously do think you're beautiful." A waiter came by and set a basket of breadsticks before us. I immediately grabbed one and took a bite. Barry gave me one of his smiles. "What?" I froze. "I like breadsticks." I chewed on mine. Barry rested his chin on a hand. "You're not like most women." His eyes sparked. "I'm not most women." I replied slyly. "Surely you'd know that by now." "Oh, I'm aware of that. It's just fun to say that and watch you get all flustered about it." He took a breadstick as well and bit into it. Lucy came by with two wine glasses, the bottle of wine, water, and the salads. Barry took one of the glasses and poured wine into it before placing it in front of me. Then he did the same with his and took a sip. "You picked a good one." "I do like my wine." I smiled and took my glass. I swirled it a bit and took a sip. The rich taste of the red wine filled my mouth and warmed me as I swallowed it. "My grandpa on my dad's side of the family used to make his own as a hobby." "I bet you abused that advantage." Barry smirked. "Maybe, maybe not." I took another sip. "Probably didn't help that I knew how to take a shot before my twenty-first birthday." "Your mom wasn't too happy?" He asked. "You should have seen the look on her face." I snorted. "I never took you for the rebellious type." He laughed. "Only on certain things." I shrugged. Barry smiled and dug into his salad. I grabbed my dressing and drizzled it on before proceeding to eat it. We ate in silence for a bit, but broke it by talking about work and how our week was going so far. Barry said they haven't found the meta-human who started the Bowman fire yet, but they're doing their best. "It's like the guy literally disappeared from the streets." Barry was frustrated. "People have been disappearing lately." I stated as I took a sip of my wine. "Maybe whoever is nabbing people off the streets got him, too." "Maybe," Barry sighed with frustration. Lucy stopped by with our food we ordered and we dug in. My dinner ended up being a lot better than I thought it would. "Is your food any good?" "Yeah," I nodded. "Really good, actually. A lot better than I thought it would be. What about yours?" "Not too bad." He replied. We ate for a little while more until I felt the urge to go to the bathroom. "'scuse me, I gotta head to the bathroom." I stood up. "I'll be right back." "Take your time." Barry smiled. I gave him a small smile and headed towards the bathroom. I slipped past the waiters and oncoming customers. The thoughts of everyone in the restaurant was starting to make my head hurt. Mmm, I'd like to take her home and fuck her. A mental image of a woman being undressed and a man having sex with her appeared in my mind. God, I really didn't want to see that. I kept hearing thoughts about money and sex. It was endless and it was annoying as hell. I hate this ability. I made my way into the bathroom and headed into one of the stalls. I did my business, flushed the toilet, and washed my hands. I took a moment to look at myself in the mirror. I was a little pale and had dark circles under my eyes from sleepless nights. Taking Tylenol or ibuprofen wouldn't help with the headache. I let out a sigh and made my way back to Barry. When I was in vicinity, Barry looked at his tie that was haphazardly thrown over his shoulder. He pulled it down and straightened it out. "You look fine." I reassured with a smile as I slid back into the booth. Barry looked up and smiled back. "You okay?" He asked. "Yeah, I'm fine." I nodded. "Just a slight headache, but I'll be fine." "Do you need any aspirin?" "Nah, I'm fine." I waved it away. "Some sleep should fix it." "Not sleeping well?" He asked. "Not really." I let out a small sigh. "Been worried about Thalia and still having some nightmares about the hostage situation." "Do you want to talk about it?" "I don't know what there really is to talk about with those. Thalia's guy got arrested and so did the robbers." "But you're still having some sort of psychosomatic issues from the hostage." Barry put in. "Yeah…" I replied slowly. "Well, what is it about the nightmares?" "Umm," I began. "He's got the knife to my throat. He's in my face and he's laughing." I shuddered at the memory. "I feel weak and helpless." "Maybe that's the connection." Barry shrugged. "You're still having nightmare s because you feel like you don't have a way to protect yourself. I've had the same nightmare about my mom for years." "Did they stop?" I asked. "Not until a few months ago. There might be a way to find her killer, though." Barry took a bite of his food and chewed thoughtfully. "I bet if you find a way to overcome your block, your nightmares will stop." "I signed up for self-defense classes that start up next week." I meekly replied. "There's a good start." Barry smiled. "What made you decide to do that?" "I'm a magnet for trouble." I answered. "And I may or may not have had someone push me into it." I felt myself shrink a little. Barry raised a brow. "I was at a bookstore on Tuesday and I made the mistake of taking a shortcut in an alley to get home." Barry put his hands over his face. "God, Riley, why?" He let out a groan. "Dark and scary alleys usually aren't something you walk down at night. Everyone knows that." "It was a mistake. I got the gash on my cheek as a result from it." Barry took a breath and pulled his hands away from his face, but they clenched a little. "Before anything bad could happen the Flash was there to stop it and he took me home." Barry's hand relaxed a little. "Jesus, Riley." He sighed. "You really are a magnet for trouble." I slumped back against the booth. "Yeah," I sighed. "I know." Barry was quiet for a bit. "It's a good thing we have him around." He replied. "Otherwise maybe Eddie or Joe would have to keep a close eye on you." "Great." I groaned and closed my eyes. Barry chuckled in amusement. "I'm just glad you're safe." He replied. My eyes opened again and I sat up. "Same here." I replied. We continued eating our dinner and finished it. "Do you want any desert?" Barry asked. "Nah, I'm fine." I shook my head. Lucy came by and took our empty plates. "Any room for desert?" Lucy asked. "We're fine." Barry replied. "Just the check will be fine." "Can do." Lucy nodded. She disappeared for a bit and came back with the bill. Barry pulled out his card and handed it back. "I'll be back momentarily." She disappeared again. "So, what do you want to do afterwards?" Barry asked. "Um, I'm not sure." I shrugged. "We could go on a walk somewhere or we could go back to my place for a bit." "A walk doesn't sound too bad. We could use the leg stretch." "Not a bad idea." I agreed. Lucy came back with Barry's card. "Enjoy your evening." She gave him a smile and walked away. Barry pulled his card out of the billfold along with the receipts and the pen. He scribbled a tip and his signature on both copies, then stuck the copy and card in his wallet. Before he put it away, I briefly got a glimpse of a number on the receipt. "Did she stick her number on the receipt?" I raised a brow and chuckled. "She did, but I have zero interest." Barry replied as we stood up. "I have my eyes on someone else." A sly smile reached his face. I blushed and slipped my jacket on. He slipped his hand into mine and squeezed it, leading the way out of the restaurant. "Thank you for dinner." I said as we were outside, leading towards my car. "My pleasure." He smiled down at me. The wind nipped at us a bit and I leaned against Barry a little. We reached the car and I unlocked it. Barry opened the driver side for me and I climbed in. He climbed in on the passenger side and I started the car. I pulled us out of the parking lot and headed towards the park. The ride was quiet, but comfortable. Barry even held my hand the entire way. I could feel his gaze on me and I briefly looked over at him. "What?" I asked with a smile. "Nothing." He answered. "You just look beautiful and this is really nice." "I agree." I smiled back. "About it being really nice." I felt myself relax. "It's been a good while since I actually had a nice night out with someone." "Same here." Barry agreed. "I haven't had a nice night in months." I let out a relaxed sigh, being at ease with the current situation as we drove on. Eventually we reached the park and I pulled us into a spot. The park was a decent size with a large pond in the middle. There was a pathway that circled the park, but also had a bridge going over the pond. "Shall we?" I smiled at him. "We shall." Barry agreed, climbing out of the car. I shut the engine off and climbed out, locking the doors behind me. Being the gentleman that he was, Barry offered an arm and I looped mine around his. We set off on our leisurely stroll down the path. "You ready for your gig on Saturday?" "For the most part, yeah." I nodded. "What songs are you playing?" "Some stuff we did last time and what we weren't able to get to. Then we have a couple of new covers we're doing." "ooh, sounds exciting!" He enthused. "I'm actually really excited about it. Cisco and Caitlin are also excited to come and meet you." We made our way down a lengthy stretch of path. "Really?" I raised my brows. "Yeah, I never shut up about you when I hang out with them." I blushed and looked over at the pond. "What?" "I'm not used to being a good subject to talk about." I shrugged. "Usually it's my parents being all 'why haven't you given us grandkids yet' or my mom bitching about my life. Don't even get me started on Grant." I laughed humorlessly. "Hey," Barry stopped us and gently pulled me towards him. "I think you're amazing." "No, I'm not all that amazing." I shook my head. "There you go again. You don't give yourself enough credit." Barry looked down at me with a glint in his eyes. "I just can't see myself as amazing." I dropped his hands and made my way towards the bridge. "I'm just plain and simple." "You've got some complexity to you." Barry easily caught up to me. I gave him a quizzing look, spinning around a little. "You act all quiet, but when you're in your element you completely change into a different person." "Doesn't everyone?" I shrugged. "I've seen you out in public and you at work. You act the same." But I'm much more complicated than that. Really complicated, Barry sighed inwardly. Maybe one day you'll know. What did he mean by that? "There's more to you than what meets the eye." Barry took my hand and twirled me. I stumbled and nearly fell, but he caught me easily. "One thing I can confirm on that is being graceful isn't part of that." I chuckled. "I don't mind." He shrugged it off. "I'm not graceful either." "What? No, you're kidding me." "Definitely not kidding you." Barry shook his head. "I have two left feet. Just ask Captain Singh or anyone in the police. Though, they'll probably say something besides having two left feet." He paused for a moment. "Never mind." He blushed. Late for work, awkward, crazy… "I don't mind." I squeezed his hand. "It's what makes you who you are." He squeezed back. "Thank you." He smiled sheepishly. "Let's go to the bridge." "Fine by me." I agreed. We made our way up the wooden bridge and stopped in the middle. Barry leaned against the railing and stared at the water. I approached his side, wrapping an arm around his and rested my head against his shoulder. We didn't speak. We just stood there in silence, staring at the water. Just ask her, Barry thought to himself. You've faced far more dangerous things. Asking her a question should be easy. I felt him take a deep breath and he sighed. Nope, too scary. "What's on your mind?" I asked nonchalantly. "Hmm?" He looked down. "You seem troubled." Only because I can hear yours and everyone else's thoughts. "Oh, umm," He sucked in a breath again. "Just wanted to ask you something." "Ask away." I replied. "I'm all ears." "Okay." Barry let out the breath he was holding in. "I really like you, Riley." "I really like you, too." I straightened up to face him. "A lot, actually. There's something different about you from other women I've dated. Iris really like you, Joe really likes you, even Eddie likes you. You're one of the most down to earth people I have ever met, but also amazingly talented." I tried hard to fight the smile. "You're the least competitive person and you don't feel the need to force anything. Linda felt like everything was a competition and she had to one-up everything. Everything just flows naturally with you. I don't have to die the weird, geeky side of me because you're just as a nerd as I am." I chuckled and looked away. "So, my question is this." Barry took my right hand and slipped off the Claddagh ring, turning it so the heart was pointing towards me, and slipped it back on. I looked up at him and couldn't help but smile. "That is an excellent question, Mr. Allen, and I do believe I have an answer to it." I replied. I could feel my heart beginning to hammer in my chest. "Yeah?" His eyebrows rose. I reached up and softly pressed my lips against his. I felt his surprise, but it quickly went away. I felt his hands cup my face gently as he held it. After a few long seconds, he broke away smiling down at me. "Not a bad answer." He bit his lower lip in a thoughtful manner that sent my heart racing. "I agree." I kissed him softly again. Barry deepened the kiss a little and smiled into it. We broke the kiss, but he stayed close. "What do you want to do now?" "We can head back to the car." He wrapped an arm around me. "I unfortunately have to get up in the morning for work." "Same here." I agreed. "Lots of cleaning up photos to do. Plus, I get to work on putting a layout together. Well, watch Andrew and learn from him." "How has work been with him, by the way?" Barry asked as we retraced our way back to the car. "It's been okay, I guess." I shrugged. "He hasn't accused me of any bullshit so I guess we're fine. Iris is fun to work with, though." "That's good to hear." "Yeah, we have this duo thing going on." I grinned. "She'll be pleased to hear you like working with her." Barry chuckled in amusement. "She's great." I sighed with content. "Not sure about Linda yet." "How come?" "Only time I've interacted with her was on my first day. She didn't seem particularly thrilled when I was there with Iris, but like I said, that was the only time I interacted with her." I explained. "Good point." He agreed. We eventually reached the car and I unlocked it. Barry held the door open for me and I climbed in, starting the car. Once he was in and buckled, I drove us toward Joe's. We chatted some more on the way about random shit. It helped since I tried my best to stay out of his thoughts. I was a little sad when we reached Joe's, but I understood. He needed the sleep and so did I. We're not quite ready for the whole 'Sleeping with Each Other' bit, but I bet it could happen down the road. I shut the car off and walked Barry up to the porch. "I had a really nice time tonight." I gave him a small smile. "Good," His eyes sparked. "I did, too." He interlaced a hand with mine. "Very much." I chuckled. "Will I see you at some point before Saturday?" I asked. "I can guarantee that." Barry replied. He bent down a little and pressed his lips against mine. My heart sputtered again. My breath got caught in my chest as I kissed him back. God, kissing him was exhilarating! It felt like electricity was buzzing through me. We broke off the kiss and I had to catch my breath a little. "Sorry." I breathed. "For what?" "I have to catch my breath. It's been a while since I've really kissed someone. I'm a little rusty." I laughed. "Nah, you seem to be quite on par with that." He mused, giving my hand a squeeze. I laughed again. "G'night, Riley." "G'night, Barry." He gave me a quick kiss again. I turned and headed to my car, but as I looked back he was still on the porch. "Get in your car already so I don't have to worry about you." He laughed. "I'm going!" I skipped a little. I climbed in and turned the car on. With a wave, I pulled out and Barry headed inside. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- When I reached work on Friday I felt dead. I was very ready for the weekend. When I reached my desk, Iris was there. “You need a pick-me-up.” She handed me a coffee. “Oh, my God, you’re a saint.” I gratefully took the beverage. “Thank you so much.” “Anything for the person that’s making my best friend happy.” She grinned. “How…never mind.” I shook my head with a smile. I let out a sigh and took a sip of my coffee. “Your ex’s name appeared in the news recently.” Iris spoke. My eyebrows knitted together. “What?” I blinked in disbelief. “Yeah, let me know you.” Iris sat in my chair. “Do you mind me using your computer?” “Go ahead.” I took another sip as Iris pulled up the news station website. “There it is.” Iris clicked on the story. “Local man hospitalized for sticking a cactus up his rectum.” I nearly spat my coffee out and started coughing. A few people around us looked at me in suspicion. “You okay?” Once I got over my coughing fit I nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I took a deep breath. “That just caught me by surprise. I’m sorry, but what the hell?” “Seriously.” Iris nodded. “It sounds super messed up, but it’s real.” “No shit.” I breathed, staring at the screen. “Can I see?” Iris scooted over and I leaned in a bit to read the very short article. Local man Grant Williams, 25, was hospitalized Tuesday night after sticking a cactus plant up his rectum. “I don’t know why I did it. Something just told me I had to do it.” Williams stated. Williams has a few puncture wounds, but he will make a full recovery. “The fuck?” I murmured. “Messed up, right?” Iris agreed. “Sounds like one of those stories on the weird shit people do. Or at least a stupid internet challenge.” “Yeah…” I trailed off. Just days ago, he and I were talking. Then I got mad at him and then we left. Then while he was leaving I mentally yelled at him to go fuck a cactus. Was…was that me? Did I do that? What’s going on with me? “Iris and Riley?” A sharp male voice brought me out of my thoughts. It was Mr. Larkin. “Can I speak to both of you in my office?” Iris looked at me and I shrugged. We got up and followed Larkin into his office. “Hey, Mr. Larkin.” Iris greeted. “Good morning, you two.” He greeted back. “How are you doing?” “Fine, thanks for asking.” I replied. “How about you?” “Swell.” Larkin answered. “What did you want to talk to us about, Mr. Larkin?” Iris asked. “Just wondering if the two of you have been able to get anything new on the Flash.” Larkin leaned back in his chair. I felt my stomach drop. “Umm, no. Not since the Bowman fire.” Iris shook her head. “It’s hard to track him down.” “And get a picture of him because he moves so fast.” I added. Larkin looked at me with an odd expression. Did I just say that out loud? Did I just say about the dumbest ass excuse on the planet? “Well, yes. I can see how that could make things a little difficult.” Larkin pursed his lips. “Iris, you have that blog of yours that I’m such a huge fan of. Surely, he reads it. Maybe you can get a hold of him and try to get an interview. And, Riley, if you’re there with her maybe you get can get a few photos of him.” A mental image of doing a photo session of the Flash appeared in my mind. “Ladies, you both are doing a wonderful job here. Absolutely wonderful, but the people want more on the Flash. That’s one of the things that helps sell our papers. The city just wants to know more about the scarlet speedster. Can the two of you do that?” I opened my mouth and then closed it with an inaudible sigh. “We can do it.” Iris replied. I looked over at her. We can? “Yes,” I agreed. “We can.” “Good.” Larkin smiled. “Now get to it. Keep up the excellent work, ladies.” We nodded and exited the office. We headed back to Iris’s desk and she flopped in her seat. “Great. Just great.” She sighed in frustration. “What the hell are we going to do?” I began to panic. “I’ve been here for a week and I’m already starting to screw things up.” “Calm down, Riley.” Iris tried to soothe my nerves. “We’ll figure something out.” “How?” I asked. “We don’t exactly have the Flash on speed dial.” I leaned back against the desk, closing my eyes and rubbing my temples. “I should have never showed him that photo.” A headache was coming and several voices were starting to overlap. What’s up with those two? Larkin only hired West because of her blog. I need coffee. God, damn it Mason took the last bear claw! I need to get out of this shit hole. “Riley?” Iris’s voice made me jump. “She stared at me with wary eyes. “You okay?” “Yeah,” I shook it off. “Just a stress headache.” “We’ll figure something out, okay? Larkin hired you because you’re good.” I reluctantly nodded. “Take a deep breath.” I took a deep breath through my nose and out of my mouth a few times. I tried to focus on Iris’s voice to tune out everyone else’s thoughts. “Better?” “Yeah.” I nodded. “It’s okay.” She assured. “I’ve had a few freak moments when I first started working here. It’ll get easier.” “I just don’t want to cheat my way through here.” I chewed on my lower lip. “Andrew accused me of that with the photo.” “Remember, don’t let him criticize you. He’s just butt hurt you got a kick ass photo.” Iris gave an encouraging smile that reached her dark brown eyes. “How about you come to lunch with me and Eddie today? You look like you could use it.” “I don’t want to intrude if you already have plans.” I shook my head. “Oh please.” Iris waved it away. “I live with the man. He could sub it for a date night.” “You sure?” I winced. I hate being a burden. “I’ll text him and let you know.” She gave me a squeeze on the shoulder. “Now, go try to get some work done until lunch, okay? It’ll help keep your mind off things.” “Okay.” I sighed. “You can do it, Riley.” She gave me a thumbs up. “That’s the plan.” I gave her a lazy two-fingered salute as I headed back to my desk. Poor girlie. She’s under so much pressure. Hopefully lunch with us will cheer her up. I trudged back to my desk and sat down, resting my forehead on it. “I am a real photographer.” I mumbled the mantra to myself several times. “Hey,” A soft feminine voice spoke. “You’re Riley, right?” I lifted my head and found Linda Park before me. “Yeah,” I replied slowly. “You’re close with Barry, right?” She asked. That’s one way to put it. I nodded hesitantly. “Take my advice. Don’t get so attached to him and hope for a relationship. He can’t balance his work and social life equally. Plus, he still has a heart out for Iris.” I narrowed my eyes. “Thanks?” I was unsure. “Believe me or not.” Linda suddenly got snippy. “The same thing happened to me. I just don’t want another innocent girl get hurt by him.” “Thanks for the advice, but I think I’ll be fine.” I sniffed. I’ve been through much worse. “I’m good at reading people.” “Fine.” She shrugged. “Don’t come crying to me if he breaks your heart.” Linda turned and walked away. What the hell is her problem? Lunch rolled around a few hours later. Iris said Eddie was fine with me tagging along, but Barry was unfortunately tied up in the lab at work. Eddie came into CCPN around noon to come get us. “You ready?” Iris asked. “Yeah, I’m ready.” I slipped my jacket on and headed over to her. Eddie was patiently waiting, hands clasped behind his back. “Hi, Eddie.” I smiled. “Hi, Riley.” He greeted back. His eyes were very bright and his blond hair was neatly styled. “How are you?” “Pretty good.” I replied. “How about you?” “Not too bad.” He agreed. “You two ready?” “Yes.” Iris and I simultaneously agreed. We made our way out the door and I flowed the couple to Eddie’s car. We all climbed in with Eddie driving, Iris in the passenger seat, and me in the back. Eddie started the car and we made our way over to Big Belly. “How do you like working at CCPN, Riley?” Eddie asked. “It’s not too bad.” I replied. “There’s a lot to learn, but it’s good. Some of the people are, uh, a little tense.” “That’s one way to put it.” Iris snorted. “How so?” Eddie raised a blond brow. “This morning Larkin talked to both of us saying he wants more pictures and stories on the Flash.” Iris sighed. “We basically got chewed out.” I clarified. “Ouch.” Eddie winced. “And Mason is an ass as ever.” Iris put in. “And I’m pretty sure Linda Park hates my guts.” I added. “Delightful.” Iris said with bitterness. “Is that why she was at your desk earlier?” “Sort of.” I frowned. “She basically said how Barry can’t balance work and his social life.” I left the other part out. I don’t want to upset Eddie to the point where he would punch Barry. “Wow, what a bitch.” Iris commented. “Anyone else stirring up shit?” “No, not really.” I looked out the window. “Good.” Iris replied. It was quiet for a bit. Eddie and Iris started talking to each other, but I tuned out of their conversation. I let out a small sigh, letting my thoughts wander aimlessly. Fifteen minutes later we pulled into the Big Belly Burger parking lot. My stomach rumbled as we walked inside. It was a bit crowded for the lunch rush, but we could place our order and find a spot to sit down. “This place is so unhealthy, but it’s so good.” “A love-hate relationship.” I mused. A waiter eventually came by with our food and placed them before us. I dug into my bacon cheeseburger and sighed in sweet relief. “So, how’s work going, Eddie?” “Not too bad. Still trying to find the Victor Evans guy, though.” “Yeah, Barry mentioned that a bit on Wednesday when we went out for dinner.” I replied. “Captain Singh is getting quite fed up with it.” Eddie rubbed his eyes. “Barry did tell me about your theory.” “What theory?” Iris raised her brows in curiosity. “You know how people have been disappearing from the streets?” I asked. “Yeah, go on.” She nodded. “We think whoever is taking people might have grabbed Evans, too.” I continued. “They guy hasn’t been seen since the fire.” “Yeah, that could be a possible idea.” Iris slowly nodded. “Surely someone could have seen him since then.” “Not unless someone nabbed him.” I shrugged. “Maybe.” Eddie replied. “When I was still in Keystone we had a case where an arsonist was hidden for weeks until we were able to finally get him.” “Hmm.” I furrowed in thought. “Your theory is still possible, Riley.” Eddie added. “We won’t cut anything out until we know for sure.” “Guess we’ll have to keep digging on our side project.” Iris shrugged. Eddie froze in mid bite of a fry. “You two are working together on this story?” His eyes widened. “Yeah, babe, I told you this after the article on the fire came out.” Iris replied. “yeah, well…” He began. I didn’t think you were going to try to find out what happened to the missing people. “Just…just be careful with what you’re getting yourselves into. I don’t want you disappearing, too.” “I’m a cop’s daughter.” Iris reassured. “He trained me how to defend myself.” Eddie looked over at me. “Don’t look at me.” I held my hands up in defense. “I’m just a photographer.” “Photographers catch criminating evidence.” Iris pointed out. “Shit.” I frowned. “Well, I’m going to take self-defense classes soon if that makes you feel better.” “What made you decide to do that?” Eddie asked curiously. “The hostage situation at Jitters.” I replied while eating a fry. “I don’t want to be helpless and unable to defend myself.” “Understandable.” Eddie nodded. “Good for you.” Iris agreed. “What are you starting with?” “Basic boxing.” I waved it off. “Ooh, I could have a sparring partner!” Iris got excited. “We might have to wait a while on that.” I widened my eyes a little. “Still,” She put in. “It could be fun.” We finished up our lunch and unfortunately had to head back to CCPN. I trudged along through the rest of the day, mostly staring at my computer and straining my eyes. At some point, I covered my face with my hands and let out a sigh. “Long day?” An all-too familiar voice spoke from behind. I sat up and turned around to find Barry. “Hi.” I greeted with a tired smile. He smiled back and leaned down, kissing the side of my head. I briefly turned my attention to the screen to save some files. “Hi.” He rested his chin on my shoulder. “What are you working on?” “Just some photos I have on my camera.” I replied. “You take a lot of pictures.” He mused. “It’s my job.” I chuckled once. “What are you doing here?” “I can’t visit my girlfriend at work?” He flashed a smile. “I said I was going to stop by, but I wasn’t able to this afternoon. So, I thought now would be an appropriate time.” “Yeah, I’m almost done and we can go.” “Take your time.” He ruffled my hair and pulled up a chair. What’s Barry doing next to her? Anna from the advice column spat venomously. I looked up briefly to find her staring in our direction with a heated expression. “Don’t look now, but I think Anna from the advice column is plotting ways to kill me because you’re next to me.” I shrank a little in my seat. “What?” H asked incredulously, briefly peeking over and quickly ducked back down. “Oh, my God, she looks like she’s going to kill you.” Fucking bitch, her voice echoed in my mind. Barry looked up again and suddenly he shrank in his seat. “Oh, shit.” He sank low. “What?” I looked down at him. “It’s Linda.” He whispered, ducking his head as she passed by. “Hi, Barry.” She flatly greeted as she walked by. Barry turned red with embarrassment and kept his head down. “She’s gone.” I replied as she left, finishing up touching a photo of a cathedral. Barry let out a breath. “Have you actually talked to her since you guys broke up?” “Umm…no…?” He winced. “We seemed to be on good terms when we broke up, though.” “That’s good, but you can’t run from everything, Barry.” I pointed out. “Sometimes you have to face them.” I know that mantra all too well, he sighed mentally. She means well, though. I smiled inwardly. I saved my progressed and exited out of everything. “All done.” I logged off, putting my things away. I slipped my jacket on and slung my camera bag over my shoulder. “Ready?” “Yep.” He smiled and stood up. As we walked out of CCPN, Linda shot me a look. Be careful, Lewis. He’ll hurt you, too. “Good night, Mr. Larkin.” I called. “Good night, Riley.” He called from his office. “Enjoy your weekend.” Barry slipped a hand into mine and we headed out. When we reached my car, he leaned against it with a lingering sadness. I didn’t want him to leave yet even if I would see him tomorrow. “You look like someone kicked a dog.” He brought me out of my thoughts. “What’s up?” “I don’t want you to leave yet.” I bit my lower lip in thought. “Do you want to come over for dinner?” “Dinner? Like right now?” “Yes, right now.” I nodded. “I went grocery shopping last week so I’m fine on food. Plus, I have a roast in the crockpot I had on all day.” Barry dipped his head and chuckled. “You’re making this hard.” He sighed with a smile. “It’ll give us time to be together until the craziness of tomorrow.” I looked up at him. “Please?” He looked down at me. I gave him the best pleading look I could muster. “You’re not going to stop.” “Nope.” I replied. “All right.” He blew out some air. “Why not?” “Yes!” I stood on my toes and gave a brief soft kiss. Barry stumbled a tiny bit after the kiss broke. “Oh…well…okay.” He murmured in daze. “Well get in.” I unlocked the car and put my things in the back seat. “Yes, ma’am.” He smiled, climbing in. I climbed in and started the car. Barry slipped his hand into mine as I drove us to my apartment. “How was your day?” It wasn’t too bad apart from getting chewed at by Larkin.” I replied. “What? Why?” He was bewildered. “He wants more pictures of the Flash.” I explained. “And he wants Iris to write more stories of him.” “What? But you guys are kicking ass.” “I haven’t gotten any pictures of him since the Bowman fire. That was weeks ago.” “I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” “I hope.” I sighed. “How about you? How was your day?” “It wasn’t horrible.” He replied. “I got swamped at work and the captain yelled at me so that was fun.” “Both of us seemed to have a rough day.” I puffed my cheeks out. “Yeah, but the work day is over and we get to relax.” “Which I am very much looking forward to.” I squeezed his hand gently. He squeezed back and smiled. A short while later we reached the apartment building. Before I could get out, Barry had gotten out of the car and had my camera bag swung over his shoulder. He then held the door open for me to get out. “Look at you being all adorable and helpful.” “It’s no trouble.” He shrugged. We headed inside and up to the apartment. “How’s Thalia doing?” “She’s doing better. She’s still struggling, but she’s hanging in there.” “Roger Clark’s hearing is in a couple of weeks. I’m sure she would want you to be there.” “She hasn’t said anything about it yet.” I replied as I pressed the button to my floor. “Just give her some time. She’ll present herself when she’s ready to. Do what you can by being there for her.” “Yeah.” My thoughts trailed off and I rested my head against his shoulder. I felt him wrap an arm around me. “So, has Link been jealous?” “A little bit.” I chuckled. “Since he likes you, I don’t think it’ll last long.” “Good, I like having a little buddy.” Barry grinned and the doors slid open. We headed down the hall and I unlocked the door, flipping the light on. “You can drop that off in my room.” I pulled my jacket off and hung it up. The scent of the roast filled my nose and my stomach rumbled. “Sweet Jesus, that smells amazing.” Barry came out of my room with Link following behind. “Do you want anything with it? Potatoes? Green beans?” I asked as I headed towards the kitchen. “That sound fine with it.” He followed. “Do you need help with anything?” “Do you want to feed your little buddy?” I grinned. “Absolutely.” He agreed. “His dish is on the floor, food’s in the cupboard, and you know where the silverware is at.” I pointed. I pulled a wooden spoon and stirred the roast around, then put it on the lowest setting. I fished around the cupboard for instant potatoes and a can of green beans. I opened the green beans and stuck them in a microwaveable container. Link rubbed up against Barry at the sight of the food and meowed softly. Barry dumped the wet cat food out on the dish and put it on the floor. He stroked Link while he ate. “Hi, buddy.” He scratched him behind the ears. I smiled down at the sight. Link’s tail wrapped around Barry’s arm as he scratched him on his side. He stood up and stretched. “Do you need anything else?” “I should be good for now.” I answered. I measured some water out and began to make the mashed potatoes. “Go make yourself comfortable. I have Netflix on the X-Box.” Barry slid next to me, crossing his arms and smiled. “What?” I could feel his gaze on me. “Nothing, just making myself comfortable.” He mused. “By standing here?” I raised my brows. “Exactly.” He smiled with amusement. “You’re impossible.” I moved away from the stove for the water to boil. Barry gently pulled me to him, wrapping his arms around my waist. I gazed up at him and smiled. “What?” He gave his famous smile. “Just admiring.” I simply replied. “And making myself comfortable.” “By standing here.” He smiled again and I nodded. He reached down and softly pressed his lips against mine. His mouth moved expertly over mine as we leaned into the kiss. I felt a tingle spread through my body as we continued. The tingle became more intense as the kiss became longer. I pulled back a little, catching my breath. “Whoa…” I breathed. “You okay?” Barry asked with some slight concern in his face. “Yeah.” I nodded. “That felt…amazing.” “Very much.” Barry agreed, resting his forehead against mine. We were quiet for a bit to enjoy the silence and gesture. “You okay?” He softly asked again. “I’m fine.” I assured with a smile. Barry kissed my forehead and turned his attention to the mashed potatoes. “You don’t have to do that.” “No, I got it.” He shook his head. I made a face and gave up. There was no point in arguing with him. “Fine, I’ll get the beans.” I grumbled. Barry shot a smile of innocence at me. “Oh, shut up.” I stuck a tongue out. “Nope.” He mused as he measured out the potato flakes “How do Joe and Iris put up with you?” I asked while I stuck the beans in the microwave. “I honestly have no clue.” He poured the flakes in and grabbed a wooden spoon. While I waited, I plopped down at the tabled and observed Barry. His slim figure was slightly bent over at the stove and the sleeves of his green sweater were pushed up to his elbows. His hands moved swiftly as he stirred the potatoes and sprinkled salt and pepper in. I still couldn’t process how someone as slim as him was so sturdy and solid. The beeping of the microwave brought me out of my thoughts and I got up. I pulled the dish out and drained it, then sprinkled salt and pepper in it. I peeked over Barry’s shoulder to find the potatoes almost done. A bowl was set aside for him to put the potatoes in. Then I grabbed a few bowls for the roast and juice to use as gravy. Plates were brought out and placed on the table along with silverware and cups. “What do you want to drink?” I asked. “Water’s fine.” Barry replied as he scooped the potatoes into the bowl. I filled both glasses with water and placed the other dishes on the table. Barry brought the bowl over and sat in the chair adjacent to me. “Ladies first.” He offered. “No, guest should go first.” I suggested. “Just grab something, you goof.” He made a face. I shot him a look, but he chuckled in amusement. “We would be here all night debating who goes first.” “Fair point.” I mutually agreed with a shrug. I dished my food on to my plate and took a bite of the roast. “Sweet Jesus…” “Absolutely delicious.” Barry agreed. “I haven’t had a roast this good in a while.” The roast beef pulled apart easily with my fork and the juice made a perfect gravy for the potatoes. “Normally I suck at cooking.” I mused. “Roast beef is one of those few dishes I can kick ass at.” Link came over to us and sat on his haunches, looking up at me. He wanted my food. “You’re not getting any, butt head.” I looked down at him. He meowed softly and pawed at my leg. “Nope.” He tried a few more times and gave up, moving on to Barry. “Sorry, bud.” Barry resisted Link’s charms. “Gotta go with the lady says.” Link seemed to frown at us and turned away to the living room. “Drama king.” I snorted. “That cat acts like I don’t feed him.” “He is quite the player on the emotions.” Barry chuckled. “Oh yeah.” I nodded. “That’s how I got stuck with him. All it took was one look and I walked out the door with him.” Barry laughed. “He’s worse than Iris when she wants something.” “I take it she’s done that often.” I raised a brow. “Yeah, she pulls it on Joe and Eddie as well.” “That’s amusing.” I smiled. We finished eating our dinner after about fifteen minutes or so. Barry offered to help clean up, but I shooed him away. “Go sit on the couch and watch something on Netflix or whatever.” “Fine.” He huffed. “Calm your tits.” I playfully whacked him. “It won’t take me long.” “I’m holding you to that.” With that, he stole a kiss and left before I could do anything. “You’re as bad as the cat!” I called after him. “I know!” He laughed from the living room. “God dammit, Barry.” I sighed. I busied myself with the dishes by washing them, rinsing them, and putting them on the rack. After a bit of time I finished and wiped the counter down. The sink was drained and I hung the washcloth up before joining Barry in the living room. “Finally, slowpoke.” He flashed a smile as I plopped next to him on the couch. “Oh, shut up.” I stuck my tongue out. “Nope.” He grinned. “I could always make you.” “And how do you go on about that?” “You’ll find out at some point.” I gave him a sly smile. Shit, that was too forward. There was a small twinkle of mischief in Barry’s eyes. I felt my face heat up. “Oh God, I’m sorry.” I buried my face behind a pillow. “That was too forward.” “Hey,” Barry pulled the pillow away from my face. I looked up at him. “You’re fine. It’s just been a while for you.” “Yeah.” I sighed. Barry wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. “Do you want to watch something?” He asked. He had Netflix already pulled up. “You can pick.” I handed him the controller. “Guest privileges.” He took a deep breath and let out a relaxed sigh. “I thought it was the host who got to pick.” He inquired. “Or this is me being a good host.” I replied. “Or letting my boyfriend being able to pick.” “I’m still getting used to that status.” He mused. “How do you think I feel?” I laughed. “I haven’t been with someone in at least six months.” “Touché.” He agreed, turning his attention to the Netflix queue. “You can learn a lot about someone by looking at their Netflix.” “Yes, you can.” I rested my head on his shoulder. “How I Met Your Mothers, Scrubs, House…” Barry read as he scrolled through. “Stargate, Stargate SG-1, Stargate Atlantis, Mystery Science Theater…hold up. The Proposal?” I blushed and sank into the couch. Barry looked down with a raised brow. “What?” I asked. “I like rom-coms every now and then. And Sandra Bullock is cool. I liked her in Miss Congeniality.” “You tell yourself that.” He smirked. “We know the real reason why.” He kept browsing. “When in Rome.” I sank lower in the couch. “This was a bad idea.” I groaned. “This was a fantastic idea.” He grinned. I shot him a look. “Ooh, if looks could kill.” Barry laughed in amusement. “Fine, I’ll stop torturing you.” He settled on Doctor Who. “You have good taste, Lewis.” “I try.” I sat up. Barry selected it and browsed through the episodes. “So many choices.” He flipped through quickly. “Which Doctor from the newer series is your favorite?” “It’s a tie between Ten and Eleven.” I replied. “Eccelston was great because of his sass and Capaldi for his sarcastic and dry sense of humor.” Barry turned and his mouth dropped a little. “But Tennant and Smith are way up there.” “Stop being so perfect.” He had a dazed expression on his face. “I have to be dreaming. This is all a dream.” I let out a repressed snort. “I am far from perfect.” I gave him an odd expression. “If this were a dream, you wouldn’t feel this.” I pinched him on the arm. “Ow!” He rubbed his arm. “Okay, I’m not dreaming. Now which episode are we watching?” I thought for a bit. “Vincent and the Doctor?” “I personally think that’s one of Smith’s best episodes” He scrolled to it. I kicked my shoes off and curled up next to him. “I think that is an excellent opinion.” I smiled up at him. “Good.” He smiled back and softly pressed his lips against my forehead. Barry pressed play and we settle in. I felt all giddy when the title sequence came on. For once, it felt good to sit comfortably on the couch and watch a geeky TV show with someone who was as equally geeky as me. Grant watched an episode every now and then, but he didn’t watch it religiously. “They couldn’t pick a better actor to play Van Gogh.” I mused. “Absolutely.” He agreed. “The writing in here is extremely well done.” “I’m glad someone agrees and isn’t secretly judging me.” I rested my head on his shoulder. “Same.” He lightly ran his fingers through my hair. We sat in silence for the most part watching the episode, occasionally making comments. I found myself interlacing my fingers with his and playing with one of his hands. As the episode continued, I found myself paying less attention to the TV and more to Barry. I could feel doing the same. His hand was caressing the back of my neck. Then tension was thick enough to cut it with a knife. Hesitantly, I looked up at him. He smiled back and pulled me towards him. I circled my arms around his neck and deeply kissed him. His hands slid up my back as he moved his mouth expertly over mine. Barry pulled me into his lap, kissing me deeply. He pulled back for a second. “I’m not going too fast, am I?” He asked. “No, you’re fine.” I reassured. No sex, Barry thought. As much as I like the idea, I don’t want to push her into it if she’s not ready. Also, isn’t it a rule to not have sex the first three months of a relationship? Why am I sweating? Barry paused for a moment and pulled his sweater off. “I swear I’m not pulling my shirt off, just my sweater.” I chuckled in amusement and helped him pull it off. Barry tossed it aside and pulled me into another kiss. My heart hammered against my chest as Barry deepened the kiss. My hands slid to his shoulders as I leaned into it. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled us on to his back so I was on top. I felt a vibrating tingle reach my lips and a soft noise escape from somewhere deep within me. I opened my mouth a little against Barry’s and he eagerly responded the same. Ever so lightly, I slid my hands down his chest and rested them on his abdomen. My fingers itched to explore beneath his shirt, but I didn’t dare to push him to make him uncomfortable. A high pitch ringing broke us from our trance. “Fucking hell.” Barry swore. I chuckled in amusement and deeply kissed him once before sitting up. Barry reached for his phone and looked at the screen with a deflated expression. “Sorry, I gotta take this.” “No worries.” I smiled. “Understandable.” “Thanks.” He smiled back and answered. “Hey, Joe.” I scooted off him and walked over to Link. “I’m at Riley’s. What do you need?” He was silent for a bit and let out a small sigh. “Yeah, I’ll be over there. Give me a bit.” He hung up and sighed. “Work?” I asked, walking to the couch. “Yeah.” He rubbed his eyes. “Joe needs me to collect evidence for a case he and Eddie are on.” “What kind of case? If it’s okay to ask.” I sat on the armrest. “A murder.” He grabbed his sweater and pulled it on. “Metahuman?” I asked. “Maybe.” He shrugged. “Not sure until I look and run tests.” “Well then,” I softly kissed him. “go kick some ass.” Barry kissed back, smiling into it. “I had,” He pulled back a bit. “an amazing time.” “I’m glad.” I smiled. “So did I.” “Dinner was absolutely amazing.” He kissed me again. “And watching Doctor Who,” another kiss, “And kissing you.” He kissed deeply. “Especially kissing you.” “Definitely kissing you.” I agreed. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow night for sure, right?” “Watering Hole at eight.” He confirmed. “And you’ll be meeting Cisco and Caitlin.” “Awesome.” I smiled. “Now get going or Joe won’t forgive me.” I stood up and pulled him from the couch. Barry let out a groan of defeat, but he agreed. I headed towards the door and grabbed his jacket. “Good luck.” I handed it to him. Barry took it and slipped it on and cupped my face. Happiness reached his eyes as he smiled. When he released me, I was in a small daze. “Good night.” He smiled again. “G’night.” I dreamily replied. He took off, closing the door behind him. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Morning light woke me the next morning. I showered and got dressed for the day. I fed Link breakfast and headed out for breakfast of my own with the group. This time we picked a local diner not too far from the university. Nat and I would spend some Saturday mornings there while we were in college. That is, if Nat wasn’t nursing a hangover. When I reached the diner, everyone was there except for Adam. I parked my car and headed inside. I spotted Todd, Chloe, and Matt sitting at a table with six chairs. They waved me over and I plopped next to Chloe. “Adam and Nat will be here soon.” Chloe spoke. I flipped through the menu. “Cool beans.” I nodded. I wonder how they were doing as a couple now. Is Adam treating her okay? At the very least he’s better than the Valiant bartender. “Riley?” Matt got my attention. “Huh?” I looked up. “Got your head in the clouds.” Todd commented. “We were asking about your week.” “Yeah, how’s your job and Barry?” Chloe asked. “It’s not too bad.” I paused my browsing. “Work’s been interesting. I made a rival at work because I got a picture of the Flash for the paper.” “We saw that!” Matt exclaimed. “Oh my God, that’s so cool! Have you seen him again lately?” “Sort of.” I fibbed. “I was walking home from the bookstore and I saw him blur by.” “And how’s Barry doing?” Chloe asked. “Barry’s good.” I replied. “And before you ask, no we haven’t done anything other than kissing.” Chloe looked slightly defeated. Damn, I was hoping for some juicy details, Chloe sighed. “Here comes trouble.” She spoke. I looked up to find Nat and Adam approaching the table. Nat sat on the other side of me while Adam sat across form her. “‘Sup, kid.” Nat greeted me. “Hey, Nat.” I replied while flipping through the menu again. I still couldn’t decide what I wanted. Pancakes? Crepes? Omelette? “Is Barry coming tonight?” She asked. “Yeah, he’s bringing his friends Cisco and Caitlin.” I nodded. “Cool, cool.” She opened her menu. “You two do anything lately?” “Just hanging out with each other.” “Hanging out or ‘Netflix and chill’ hanging out?” She raised her brows. “Hanging out.” I made a face. “Sure you did.” Nat winked. I stared at her in disbelief. “I’m kidding. I understand the situation.” Thankfully our waiter showed up. I ended up ordering the strawberry and banana cream pancakes with a side of hash browns and toast. We chatted around for a while, mainly about the gig tonight. We agreed on meeting around five at the Watering Hole, so we could set up and run through things. That reminded me to text Barry. I have to be there at five tonight for a sound check and set up, but feel free to show up whenever. Okay ☺ Cisco, Caitlin, and I will be there around seven.We ate our breakfast and chatted about recent updates in events. I was about to tell them about Anna’s pregnancy, but decided not to. She wasn’t past her first trimester yet and pretty much only told immediate family. “You and Barry officially a thing?” Adam asked. “Absolutely!” Nat interjected. “They kissed and went on a fancy ass date.” “Ooh, do tell.” Adam propped his head on his hands. “It was fine.” I replied. “We went to an Italian restaurant for dinner and then went for a walk in the park.” “Well that seems anti climatic.” Adam scrunched his nose in a joking manner. “Oh, shut up and be nice.” Nat threw a crumpled-up napkin at him. “This was her first successful date in a long time, asshole.” “I know.” He threw the napkin back at her. “I’m only joking, but I’m happy for her. She deserves it after what happen with Grant.” “Speaking of which, he made the papers.” I put in. They raised brows in curiosity. “How?” “He shoved a cactus plant up his ass.” I answered. Todd almost choked on a bite of scrambled eggs and Chloe spat out her drink. “He did what?!” “Shoved a cactus up his ass.” I repeated. “Oh, that is glorious.” Nat snickered. “Karma’s a bitch isn’t she?” “I think we have a new recipient of a Darwin Award.” Adam sat back, arms crossed his chest with satisfaction. “Cheating bastard deserved it.” “That’s one way to put it.” I snorted. “But hey,” Nat pointed out. “Things are much better.” I gave her a small smile and nodded. “Much better.” I agreed. We reflected a little more on the week’s events until we decided to pay our bills. After that, we departed our ways until we would meet up again at five at the Watering Hole. Link greeted me with some meows as I walked inside my apartment. “Hi, fluffy boy.” I bent down and picked him up. He immediately started purring and rubbed his head against my chin. I scratched his head and kissed the top of it. I put him down on his perch and flopped on the couch with a sigh. Please don’t let anything go wrong tonight. No robberies, no kidnapping, no meta-human attacks, just another normal and regular gig night. I let out another sigh. There was a knock at my door that drew my attention. I heaved myself off the couch and headed to the door, peering into the peephole. “Surprise.” Barry grinned from behind a small bouquet of flowers. I gave a small smile and unlocked the door. “Hi.” He drawled out a little with a sheepish smile. “Too much? They’re supposed to be a good luck present for tonight.” They were a variety of carnations, tulips, and baby’s breath. “No, they’re fantastic.” I smiled as I held the door open wider for him to come in. He smiled back and walked in. “I won’t be able to stay for too long because I have to finish up some lab work, but I’ll be done in tie for tonight.” Barry explained. “That’s okay.” I waved it away. “I can take those.” He passed me the flowers and I softly kissed him on the head. “Hi, Link.” He scratched the cat affectionately. I chuckled in amusement as I headed to the kitchen for a vase. “So, what have you been up to all morning?” “Not much.” I called from the kitchen as I searched the cabinets. “I went out for breakfast with everyone in the band. It’s a tradition we do for every gig.” “Ah, so basically a team meal.” Barry replied. “Pretty much, minus any future competition.” I added. “Where the hell did I put it?” “What are you looking for?” He came into the kitchen with Link in his arms. “I have a vase from my parents when they got me flowers for my birthday last year.” I checked another cabinet. “Aha! There it is.” I pulled it out and filled it with water. Then I grabbed a large bowl and filled it with water, placing the flowers in it. “Did you know if you cut flower stems underwater, the oxygen displacement is basically them taking a breath” I fished a pair of scissors from a drawer. “No, I wasn’t aware of that.” “And if you trim the stems about once a week for so, cut flowers can live for a decent amount of time. My mom made a bouquet last for about a month.” I added. “She taught me all of that.” I began trimming and watched the bubbles escape from them. “Have you heard from her since…” He was hesitant to ask. “No.” I was silent for a moment. “She made it very clear she didn’t want to speak to me.” My vision was obscured a bit by incoming tears, bu I quickly wiped them away. Barry put Link down and wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. “I’m sure, no matter what, your mom still loves you.” He reassured. “Even if she’s being incredibly difficult and acting like a bitch.” I let out a sigh and leaned against him. “She’ll come around.” “I hope you’re right.” I finished trimming the stems and placed the flowers in the vase. I understood why he kept trying to be positive about my mom. He wanted to make sure I had a relationship with her in case something might happen. I put the scissors down and turned around in his arms, burying my face in his chest. The scent of his cologne filled my nose and brought a sense of comfort as I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. “Thank you for being here.” My voice was muffled. “Sorry for being the rain on your parade.” He gently rubbed my back. “I’m still trying to figure out this whole ‘actually having a relationship’ thing.” “That makes two of us.” I looked up at him with a small smile. “Definitely a lot better this time around.” “You and me both.” He agreed and kissed my forehead. “Better by so much. I can be nerdy and not have my girlfriend judge me for it since she is as equally nerdy.” I chuckled and rested my head on his shoulder. “Not to sound super creepy or anything,” I added. “But your cologne smells fantastic.” “Good.” He kissed my cheek and I felt my heart speed up. “I want to smell nice for my lady.” I reached around him for the cabinet with the cups and grabbed a glass out. “Do you want anything to drink?” I asked. “I’m fine.” He replied and released his hands from around my waist. I headed over to the fridge and pulled out some tea. “You sure?” I wanted to make sure. “I’m sure.” He said as I poured myself a glass and put the jug back in the fridge. Barry pushed the sleeve up and looked at a watch. “Ah, shit. I should probably get going.” “Aww, so soon?” I made a sad face at him. “Unfortunately, yes.” He replied. “But, I’ll be there tonight with Cisco and Caitlin.” I took another sip of my tea. “Finally, I get to meet them!” “Cisco’s especially excited to meet you.” He smiled. “I’m excited, too.” I agreed as we headed out to the living room towards the door. Link was curled up on his perch lazily flicking his tail. Barry scratched him behind his ears and chuckled in amusement as the cat closed his eyes. “I love this cat.” He mused. “Everybody loves him. What’s there to not love about him?” “Exactly. He’s the best cat I’ve crossed paths with.” He gave him a final pat before opening the door. “Go kick some ass and do cool science shit.” I looked up at him with a smile. He bent down and softly kissed me. “Be careful getting to there, okay?” “I will.” I reassured. “Good luck.” I kissed him again and squeezed his hand. He smiled back and headed towards the elevator. “See you tonight!” He called over his shoulder. “I’m holding to you that.” I called after him with a chuckle. I headed back inside and shut the door behind me. I bummed around my apartment for the rest of the day by cleaning it and getting my tubs of equipment I use for gigs out. After I spent a significant amount of time working on that, I worked a little more on my photos I had for Larkin. Once those were cleaned up, I had about an hour until I had to leave. I made myself an easy early dinner and fed Link his. Once all my equipment was loaded up, I made my way over to the Watering Hole. The others were there when I arrived. Adam and Nat gave a wave as I pulled into a spot and shut the engine off. “Need any help?” Nat asked as I climbed out. “It would be much appreciated.” I grinned. I unlocked the back doors and popped the trunk open. “Basically anything that looks like a guitar, cords in tubs, or an amp needs to be brought in.” “Gotcha.” She nodded. “When’s Barry coming?” “A little before eight, I think.” I replied. “Who are these friends of his again?” “Caitlin is a bio-engineer and Cisco is a mechanical engineer. They both work at S.T.A.R. Labs under Dr. Wells and when Barry was in his coma, they took him in and practically saved him.” “They seem like some pretty cool people.” Nat agreed as she hauled a tub out. “They definitely are.” I grabbed my guitars. We headed inside and began storing the equipment in a back room. Zeke from our last gig was there again managing the soundboard. “Hi, Riley.” He waved with a grin. “How’s it going?” “Hey, Zeke!” I greeted. “I’m surviving. You?” “I’m hanging in there.” He replied. “Work has been pretty shitty the past few days.” “I can relate.” I let out a breath. “My boss kinda hired me just to get pictures of the Flash ever since I got one photo of him.” “That’s rough.” He grimaced. “Not as bad as being only hired to write stories about the Flash because you have a way to contact him.” I replied. “A friend of yours?” He asked. I nodded. “Yeah, we’re trying to prove to our boss that we’re more than capable of being his little fan club.” “I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” Zeke replied. “I just need something more exciting to happen.” I shrugged. We were quiet for a moment. “I gotta go finish grabbing my stuff.” “Ah, well, see you in a bit.” He nodded. I headed back outside to my car to finish grabbing my stuff. “I think Zeke’s going to be disappointed when he finds out you and Barry are a thing.” Nat chuckled. “Dude’s got a huge crush on you.” “I don’t know why he would.” I replied. “I’m like the least interesting person on the planet.” “Oh, shut the hell up on that.” She quipped. “You caught Barry’s interest. Very quickly, if I may add to that.” “Barry was easy to talk to and we had stuff in common.” I shrugged. “Which is why you two bonded so well. You guys have great chemistry with each other. Like, really great chemistry. I think after tonight, you’ll have him hooked so deep he wouldn’t even think of cheating like that scum bag.” "Maybe.” I sighed as I hauled my amp out. “We’ll see. I’m just hoping there won’t be another incident like Jitters to crash everything.” “Well, if anything happens,” Nat said, “The Flash will be there.” I nodded in agreement. “What’s he like? You’ve met him before.” “Kind of.” I replied. “He’s nice. He’s really kind.” “Oh, come off of it.” Nat let out a breath. “Almost anyone who saves the city is like that.” “Well I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. You’re probably better off asking Iris that since she’s interacted with him more than I have. Plus, she’s interviewed him.” “Well, maybe I will.” She replied as-matter-of-factly. We pulled the rest of my stuff out of the car and headed inside to finish setting up. I tuned my guitars and tested the sound levels of them in the amp. We ran a sound check with Nat’s input on the volume from around the bar and we were set to go. I bummed around a bit to wait for time to pass. Seven slowly approached as I was anxious for Barry to show up. “Riley!” I looked up from my spot at a table. Barry was walking towards my direction with two people following him. One was a woman with brown hair and brown eyes and the other was a younger man with darker skin, brown eyes, and black hair. “Hey.” I smiled at him and wrapped my arms around Barry in a quick hug. “We’re all set up and ready to go at eight.” “Great! Maybe we’ll actually be able to hear a full performance without any interruptions.” Barry chuckled. “Riley, this is Caitlin Snow and Cisco Ramon.” He introduced. I smiled and shook hands with them. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” Caitlin smiled. “We’ve heard so much about you.” “Yeah, Barry just won’t shut up about you.” Cisco also smiled. Man, why does he have all the luck with the good-looking ones? “Ooh do tell.” I said in amusement. “I would be glad to tell.” Cisco grinned mischievously. “So,” Caitlin broke Cisco’s attempt to spill details. “Barry explained that you’re a photographer and you work with Iris.” “Yes, I do.” I nodded. “I haven’t been working there for very long, but I love it.” “Riley got a picture of the Flash at the site of the Bowman fire and it got put in the paper.” Barry slipped an arm around my waist. “Plus, she runs a small photography business on the side.” “We saw that when it came out.” Caitlin replied. “It’s pretty impressive!” “And we look forward to hearing your band tonight.” Cisco added. “Definitely!” I nodded. “It’ll be awesome.” “Are any of you hungry.” Barry asked. “I’m starving. Are you hungry?” “I could use a small snack of something and a drink. Maybe a mojito?” I replied. “Do the two of you want anything?” Barry asked. “I can cover for Caitlin.” Cisco replied. “Umm, a Manhattan.” She replied. “And nachos.” “We’ll be back, then.” Barry nodded. The two of them headed over to the bar to put in our order. Caitlin and I sat back down at the table as we waited. “So.” I began. “Are you and Cisco a thing?” Caitlin was taken by surprise. “What?” She giggled a little. “No, Cisco and I are just good friends. We’re more like siblings. He’s helped me get through some rough times since the particle accelerator explosion.” “Awe, that’s nice of him.” I smiled at the thought. “He seems like a pretty cool guy.” “He definitely is.” She agreed. “By the way, if anything inappropriate ever comes out of his mouth, I sincerely apologize.” “Inappropriate as on the verge of creepy?” I raised a brow. “Inappropriate more of really bad and awkward pick-up lines.” She explained. “It’s happened a few times.” She grimaced at a memory. Like Bette. “But, he’s pretty good at keeping himself tamed especially if someone’s already in a relationship. Plus, Barry might punch him or something.” I chuckled a little at the thought. “Never had a guy who would do that.” I mused. “I used to date this one guy I met through college. Completely head over heels for him and everything was going great. Then a little while ago I found out he was cheating on me with some other chick I don’t know and pretty much ended things there.” “Sounds like he’s a keeper.” Caitlin oozed sarcasm. “Come to think of it,” I sighed. “The last few months before things ended were really shitty to begin with.” “Well, I can assure you that Barry is definitely one of the best people that you meet in life.” She smiled with reassurance. “An absolute gentleman.” “He’s starting to prove that, already.” I agreed. “Glad to hear that.” She rested her elbows on the table. “I know the two of you haven’t been together for very long, but you make him incredibly happy. Whenever he comes in for a checkup at S.T.A.R. Labs he just raves on and on about you. It’s good to see him happy.” “Yeah, he’s made me happy, too. The happiest I’ve been in a while. And I’m aware about the whole thing with him and Iris; he liked her but then when he got struck by lightning and ended up in a coma, she started dating Eddie. So, he moved on instead of pining after someone he couldn’t be with.” “Does it…. bother you?” She hesitated. “Not as much as I thought it would.” I admitted. “Everyone has their first love that they don’t really get over. I still sometimes think about the guy I dated through the last chunk of high school. He and I were pretty close to each other. But, it probably doesn’t help that he’s the drummer in our band and that he’s now dating my best friend, but I honestly don’t care. He’s happy with her and she’s happy with him.” “Spoken like a true wise woman.” Caitlin agreed. “If I had my drink, I’d drink to that.” “Speaking of drinks,” Cisco and Barry came back. “Here’s yours.” Cisco slid Caitlin her drink. Barry sat down next to me with my mojito. “They’ll bring out an order of friend pickles I got for you and Caitlin’s nachos.” Barry explained. “It shouldn’t be too long.” “So, what did you two girls talk about while we were gone?” Cisco raised his brows while he took a sip of his drink. “Oh, not much.” Caitlin replied. “Just getting to know each other.” “Not much? No juicy details?” He looked a little disappointed. “Not much except a little about Barry and how he’s definitely better than the previous guy I dated.” I shrugged. “By the way, I found out he’s in the hospital because he shoved a cactus up his ass.” Cisco inhaled too quickly and started coughing. “I’m good.” He squeezed out. “Wrong pipe. I’m sorry, but what? Why in the hell would he do something like that? Was he on drugs?” “That’s…a new one.” Barry scratched his head. “No idea why, but I wouldn’t doubt if he was on drugs.” I sipped my mojito. “Damn, dude.” Cisco shook his head. “I will never understand people.” Caitlin shook her head. Neither will I. A short while later, a server stopped by with my friend pickles and Caitlin’s nachos. Both plates were bigger than I expected it to be. “Help yourself.” I pushed the pickles to the middle of the table. “There’s no way I’m going to finish all of them.” Cisco eagerly grabbed one and bit into it. “Oh, my god,” He closed his eyes. “Fried pickles should be their own food group.” “They could,” Caitlin pointed out. “But you’d be unhealthy with all of the oils they’re fried in.” “Way to ruin the fun.” Cisco shot her a look. He shook his head and kept eating them. Barry and I chuckled in amusement. “What time is it?” Barry asked. I pulled my phone out. “Quarter ‘til eight.” I replied. “I should probably get up there and get ready to go.” “Kick some ass.” Barry smiled. “That’s the plan.” I smiled back and gave him a quick kiss. “Good luck.” Caitlin and Cisco wished with a smile as well. “Thanks, guys.” I grinned as I got up. I felt a little lighter as I headed towards the back room where my precious guitar was stored at. Everyone else was waiting with a bottle of fireball and some shot glasses on a table. This was also one of our other traditions we do. “Ready?” Adam asked. “Absolutely.” I nodded. “You finally get to show off for your man.” Chloe mused. “Here’s to no interruptions.” I agreed, pouring the shot glasses. Everyone grabbed a glass and waited. “Tonight,” Adam began. “We will kick some serious ass out there. We have awesome singers, awesome guitar players, a kick ass bassist, and the world’s greatest drummer: me.” We all sniggered in amusement. “We’ve done this several times before so this shouldn’t be any different. We got this.” Adam held up his glass. “Bottoms up!” “Bottoms up!” We all replied and took the shot. The whiskey burned my throat as it slid down. I inhaled through my teeth at the biting taste. I grabbed my guitar and slung the strap over my shoulder. I shook my hands vigorously to get the jitters out. Here we go, I thought. We headed out to the stage and took our places. I plugged myself into the amp and we got a thumbs up from Zeke we were good to start. I briefly scanned the audience and saw Barry, Caitlin, and Cisco all with smiles of anticipation on their faces. “Ready?” Matt asked.” We all nodded. Matt counted off and we began playing. Our first set started off with a cover of Silversun Pickups’ “Last Dance”. They had Smashing Pumpkins vibe, but still had their own kind of style. Personally, it was one of my favorites and not just because I got to cover the lead vocals on this one. We played through our first half and everything went as smooth as it had ever gone. Actually, it was probably one of the best we’ve ever done. When we reached a break, we headed into the back room. I grabbed a water bottle from the mini fridge they provided and gulped it down. I flopped on the couch and let out a sigh. “Oh, my god.” I rubbed my eyes. My adrenaline rush that was going through from earlier was starting to come down. “You good? Adam asked. “Yeah, I’m good.” I replied. “Just a lot going through my head after all of that.” “I can definitely agree with you on that.” He nodded in agreement, taking a sip from a bottle of water. “Ooh, that’s quite refreshing.” There was a small knock at the door and it opened. Nat walked in with Barry following closely behind. She tackled me in a hug. “You’re killing it out there, chickie!” She giggled with excitement. “Ah, better let your boyfriend have his turn.” She then headed over to Adam. “Way to go!” Barry engulfed me in a hug. I chuckled in amusement in his arms. “That was even better than the last time I heard you play.” “Thanks.” I grinned up at him. “What do Cisco and Caitlin think so far?” “That you’re an awesome badass girlfriend.” He replied. “Cisco’s mouth dropped as soon as you started singing.” “I heard the whooping from him.” I chuckled. “I will take that as I’m in a good position with them.” “Absolutely.” He replied with amusement. We plopped on the couch for a bit and I rested my head on his shoulder. I let out a small sigh of tiredness. “You okay?” “Just a little tired.” I replied. “Other than that, I’m not too bad.” “Do you need me to drive you home?” He asked. “You don’t have to.” I shook my head. “What about Cisco and Caitlin?” “They’ll be fine.” Barry waved it away. “Caitlin picked up Cisco and I on the way here. Plus, someone needs to help you get your equipment into your apartment.” “Smooth, Allen.” I snorted with amusement. “Couple picture!” Nat cried, holding her phone up. “Shit, Nat, why?” I jumped. “You know I hate having my picture taken.” “So says the professional photographer.” Nat stuck her tongue out. “Just one picture. Please?” She begged. “Plus you guys don’t have a picture together yet according to Facebook. Pics or it didn’t happen.” I frowned at her. “That’s the rule.” “Whoever came up with that rule is an asshole.” I retorted. “That was you during college.” Nat grinned. Barry smirked with amusement. “Come on, Barry. Use some of that charm of yours.” I blushed deeply. “One picture.” He bargained. “That’s all I’m asking.” He held my gaze with his brilliant green eyes. “Fine.” I replied after a moment of pondering. God damnit Nat was right about his charms. “Yes!” Nat held her phone up. “Barry’s officially my best friend now.” We scooted close to each other and posed for the photo. “Smile!” Nat grinned as she took the photo. She then took a look at it and smiled. “Aw, you guys are cute.” She passed her phone to Barry to look at it. “Can you send that to me?” He asked. I looked at the photo over his shoulder. “Damn it, that’s actually a good one.” I replied as we passed Nat her phone back. “Right?” Nat made a face of giddiness. “Yeah, I’ll send that to you.” I sat back and let out a relaxed sigh. Barry stuck an arm around on top of the couch, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I smiled at the gesture. From the corner of my eye, I could see him smile as well. “How soon do you have to go back?” Barry asked. I looked at my phone and sighed. “Five minutes.” I replied with dismay. “Is that disappointment I hear?” He was getting cheeky. “Maybe.” I fibbed. “Maybe not.” “Just one more half.” He reminded. “Then we can do whatever after that.” “Okay.” I smiled. He slid his hand to my back and gently rubbed it. I shivered slightly at the comforting feeling. It felt good to have this again. I spent what little time I had with Barry left sitting on the couch and talking to him before we went back on. We finished out the other half of the set with success. I saw Barry, Caitlin, and Cisco clapping and cheering as we finished our last song. “That’s my girlfriend!” Barry pointed directly at me with a grin. I blushed deeply and covered my face. People around him cheered even more. “You have a fanboy.” Adam called from the back with a smile. “Oh, shut up.” I jokingly whacked him in the arm. We shut all of our equipment off and left the stage for a bit. I headed over to the trio with a light feeling. “Oh, my God, that was awesome!” Cisco had a big grin on his face. “Barry, you picked a good one. I like her.” “Definitely.” Caitlin agreed. “Call me impressed.” Barry wrapped an arm around me. “Definitely impressed.” He kissed the top of my head. “Thanks.” I smiled and kissed his cheek. “And thank you both for coming out.” “No problem.” Cisco replied. “Barry wouldn’t shut up about you so we had to see for ourselves.” “The support is much appreciated.” I smiled. “Do you need help with anything?” Cisco asked. “Just need to get my stuff packed and put into my car.” I replied. “You pack up your stuff and Cisco and I can get it loaded up.” Barry suggested. “Umm, okay.” I was surprised. “I’ll help.” Caitlin offered. “Just show me what goes where.” I led Caitlin to the back room to grab my cases and tubs, then we packed everything up. I gave Barry the keys to my car so he and Cisco could load up. “Wow, that is going surprisingly fast.” I was surprised at how quick and efficient they were moving. “Both of them are pretty good at being efficient.” Caitlin crossed her arms in observation as we leaned against the wall. “Cisco’s got his lab space super organized so that he can find everything. You tell him you need something, he can find it easily in his lab.” I chuckled in amusement. “By the way,” “Hmm?” I raised my brows. “You have a good one.” She nodded towards Barry. “We never were a thing, but he’s one of the closest friends I have. He’s definitely a good one.” “He definitely is.” I agreed. “And if he breaks your heart, I’ll kick his ass for you.” She smiled and I laughed. “Seriously, it’s nice to have another girl in the group. Things don’t have to be so awkward.” “If you ever want to hang, I am completely up for it.” I offered. “Girls’ Night?” She asked. “Of course!” I agreed. “I’m not much of a party animal like my friend Nat, but definitely up for going out to eat or going to see a movie or even shop for clothes.” “Well that’s perfect because I’m the same way.” She let out a sigh of relief. “Cisco says I don’t have fun.” “Psssh.” I made a face. “People have fun in their own ways. Cisco’s probably just full of crap.” Caitlin laughed in amusement. “I’m glad someone understands.” She replied. Barry and Cisco finished up loading everything and shut the trunk to my car. “Everything’s all set.” Cisco announced. “Do you need anything else?” Barry asked. “I just need to grab my pay from Adam.” I replied. We headed back inside and found the others. “I got your part of the cut.” Adam waved a check teasingly in my face. “Thank you very much.” I took it and stuffed it in my wallet. “Barry, right?” Adam shook hands with Barry. “I’m Adam.” “Yeah, nice job tonight.” Barry nodded. “You guys sounded really good.” “Thanks, man.” Adam smiled. “Riley’s quite talented. We go all the way back to high school so you definitely have a keeper.” “Look who’s talking Mr. Juilliard.” I pointed out. “You went to Juilliard?” Cisco gapped. “Impressive.” Caitlin raised her brows. “It’s not that big of a deal.” Adam brushed it off. “Bullshit, Adam.” I disagreed. “Juilliard is hard to get into.” “My brother Dante is good, but he never got into Juilliard.” Cisco pointed out. “You’ve got some talent.” He shook hands with him. “Thanks, I appreciate it.” Adam nodded. “And you are?” “I’m Cisco and this is Caitlin.” Cisco introduced themselves. “We’re friends of Barry.” “Pleasure to meet you.” Adam smiled as he shook hands with Caitlin. “How do you all know each other?” Caitlin asked. “Well, Riley and I went to high school together. Todd and Chloe, our other guitarist and bassist met Riley while she was in college. I met our lead singer Kyle while I was at college. Then we all came back here and decided to form a group together.” Adam explained. “All of you are very talented.” Caitlin nodded. “It was definitely enjoyable.” “Thanks.” Adam grinned. “I gotta go finish up. Are you all good to go?” He asked me. “Yep, I got everything.” I nodded. “Cool, we should do a double date some night or something.” Adam suggested. “Sounds like fun.” Barry agreed. “I’d be up for it.” I also agreed. “Excellent!” Adam was enthusiastic. “It was nice meeting you all.” He gave a small wave and headed over to his stuff. “Well,” Caitlin began. “Shall we be off?” “Probably.” I agreed. “It was wonderful finally meeting you.” Caitlin gave me a quick hug. “It was nice meeting you, too.” I smiled as I hugged her back. “You, too, Cisco.” I hugged him as well. “Definitely one of the coolest chicks ever.” Cisco smiled. “I’m sensing some future game nights.” “Of course!” I agreed. Caitlin and Barry hugged Cisco and we made our way out of the bar. Barry slipped an arm around my waist as we headed out. “So, did you enjoy yourself?” I asked. “Absolutely.” Barry replied. “I actually got to stay for the entire performance this time.” “What happened the last time?” Cisco asked. “There was a hostage at my last gig.” I answered. “Oh, my God.” Caitlin’s eyes went wide. “Yeah, it doesn’t exactly leave a good first impression.” I agreed. “But at least this one went much better.” A sudden scream pierced the night air. We stopped dead in our tracks. “What was that?” Cisco asked. There were more screams and they were louder than the first one. Oh, God, he’s dead! They’re all dead! I’m all alone! Where am I? Help! I’m drowning! I can’t breathe! Images and voices flooded through my mind. They were unheard screams of people being tortured. “That’s coming from down the street.” Barry scanned. We ran to the source of the screams and stopped dead in our tracks. There were dozens of people on the streets running away from a large black gaseous cloud. “What the hell is that?” Fear flooded through me. People were collapsing as the as the gas overcame them, screaming in pain. “Not good!” Cisco yelled. Suddenly he and Caitlin collapsed on the ground and started screaming in pain. “Caitlin! Cisco!” Barry cried. A white-hot pain exploded in my mind and I crumbled to the ground. “Barry!” I screamed in pain. It felt as if someone took a dagger and dug it around in my brain. It was so much it felt my head was going to explode! I screamed more in as it intensified. “It hurts! Oh, God, it hurts so bad!” I sobbed uncontrollably. It felt as if it were going to last forever. When would it stop? “Make it stop!” I pleaded. Then suddenly it all stopped. I looked around at my surroundings. I was still in the street by the bar where we performed, but everything was quiet. No one was screaming. Slowly and shakily I stood up. What the hell was going on? There was a dull ache in my head as I stood up and looked around. Show me your fears, a voice whispered around me. I darted around. “Who’s there?” I panicked, looking around. Show me your worst fears, the voice said again. “What the fuck is going on? Where are you?” I yelled again looking around me. “This isn’t funny! What’s going on?” Fear began to seep into my bones. Where was everyone? Where was Barry? Where was Cisco and Caitlin? I turned around and stopped in my tracks. In the middle of the street there was a figure crumpled on the ground, unmoving. I ran over to it and got on my knees, turning the body over on its back and gasped. “D-Dad?” I gasped. My father wouldn’t move. He didn’t stir. “Dad?” I started shaking him. His glassy eyes aimlessly looked up at the night sky. I leaned in close to listen for breathing or a heartbeat, but there was none. He was dead. “Dad!” I shook him. “Daddy!” My voice broke. I looked around frantically, my heart hammering in my chest. “Help!” I screamed. “Somebody help!” I look down again to not my father, but my mother in his place. “Mom!” I cried. “Mom, I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry for what I said to you. I take it all back.” Tears spilled out. “Mom!” I shut my eyes and sobbed uncontrollably. I looked up at the sky. “Why are you doing this!” More bodies appeared around me; Anna, Ethan, Rebecca, Sam, Nat, Adam, Cisco, and Caitlin. All of them were dead. I panicked and fell back. “No!” I was in hysterics. I felt my hand touch something behind me. Slowly I turned around, dreading as to who I would see. Spread eagle on his back and staring aimlessly was Barry. “No, no, no, no, no! No!” An inhuman wail escaped from my throat. “Barry!” I gripped his shoulders and shook him. “Barry! Don’t leave me!” He wouldn’t move. I buried my face into his chest and completely broke down. “So these are your worst fears.” A male voice spoke from beside me. I looked up to find a sinister looking man above me. He wore a long black coat with and had greasy, dirty blond hair. His eyes were a cold gray that showed no empathy in them. “That’s a lot of dead people.” He looked around. “Friends of yours?” “What do you want?” I shook. “Who are you?” “I don’t want anything.” He replied simply. “I just like to torture people and show them their fears. Make them weak and show them for who they really are. I’m the Boogeyman.” He nudged Barry with his foot. “DON’T TOUCH HIM!” I snarled at him. The man simply laughed in response. It sent chills up my spine and filled me with rage. “Ooh, a little touchy, are we?” He observed. “Someone special? A boyfriend?” He observed Barry, then me. “Gotta say. He picked a fine beauty.” There was a malicious look in his eyes. “Tell you what, cupcake.” He laughed again. “This is my world. You can’t do shit. This may all be in your head, but it’s your worst fear and my territory.” My head. This was all in my head! It wasn’t real! “Get out of my head.” My hands curled into fists. I pictured a wall around my mind. “Get out of my head.” I repeated again. I pictured Barry, my family, and the others all alive and well. The man’s confidence faltered. I kept repeating it over and over. “Get out of my head.” “What the? What the fuck are you doing?” He looked around. The bodies began to disappear. Rage filled me as I directed all of my energy towards him. “GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” I bellowed. What are his worst fears? I felt a huge wave of energy rip through me and a cry of anguish from the man and me. There was a loud roar and everything went white. There was a loud ringing in my ears as I struggled to come to. My hands stung and my head throbbed horribly. I looked up blearily at my surroundings. Cisco and Caitlin were around me and they were alive. People were around on the ground. They were in pain, but they were alive. I looked in front of me to find the Boogeyman on his hands and knees yelling in agony. A red figure stood before him, looking down at him. He hoisted him by his collar and sucker punched him, rendering him unconscious. He dropped him in a heap and looked around. I froze as he spotted me. Oh, God. I whimpered in fear. The figure approached me with caution and got on its knees before me. I looked up shakily at the figure. “F-Flash?” I shuddered. “You’re okay. Everything’s fine.” The Flash soothed. He gently put a hand on my shoulder. I looked around. “It’s over.” “W-what happened?” I stammered. “A meta attack. He emitted some kind of gas or poison that took everyone out mentally.” He explained. “Somehow his attack backfired, but it was long enough for me to subdue him.” I felt my heart drop. “Your nose is bleeding.” I reached up and wiped it. Blood covered my fingers. I looked over at the unconscious Boogeyman. “You were the only one other than me that withstood his attack.” “Did I do this?” I whispered in fear. The speedster held me gingerly and looked around. “I think you did.” He replied. I looked up at him. “Don’t tell Barry.” I managed. Everything went dark as I felt myself go. “Riley!” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “How is she?” A soft voice asked. “She’s stable. Her vitals are normal.” Another voice replied. “She was unconscious when you brought her in, but she’ll be okay.” The first voice let out a sigh. “What the hell was that back there?” “Honestly, I don’t know.” The second voice replied bitterly. “Whatever it was helped us catch him and it saved everyone. I think she had something to do with it.” “Is she a meta-human?” “I don’t know yet. I need to get a blood sample from her and run some tests to check.” I kept seeing their bodies on the street. I kept seeing the Boogeyman standing over me, laughing as he tortured me through my fears. “They’re all dead.” He laughed. “Everyone you know are dead. They left you and you’re all alone.” I cried out in agony as he disappeared, leaving me alone with the bodies of my loved ones. I woke up with a start, heart hammering in my chest and struggling to breathe. I looked around wildly at my surroundings. There were a bunch of computer monitors, various machines, tables with equipment on them, and lots of medical equipment. “Where am I?” I gasped, struggling to breathe. “Cisco!” A voice yelled. “Go get the others! She’s awake!” “I’m on it!” A second voice yelled. I felt a pair of arms wrap around me. “Breathe, Riley.” The first voice spoke in gentle tones. “You’re okay. You’re safe. Just breathe deeply.” I clutched to the arms and breathed in through my nose. Each breath shuddered through my body as I struggled to gain control. “That’s it.” The voice continued. “Just breathe slowly. It’ll pass.” I shut my eyes and focused on my breathing. After a minute my breathing returned to normal, it was shaky but normal. “Better?” I nodded and opened my eyes. “Caitlin?” My eyes widened. Caitlin nodded. Her face was stricken with worry, but it was fading as I came to my senses. “It’s me.” She replied. “You gave us a scare.” I looked around again and she released me from the hug. “What’s going on? Where am I?” I asked. “You’re at S.T.A.R. Labs.” She explained. “Is she okay?” Another figure came into the room. “I brought Doctor Wells and B-“ Caitlin looked up with a warning look. “I mean, the Flash.” It was Cisco. “Cisco?” I looked up at him. What the hell is going on? Why are they here? Is Barry here? “Hey,” He came to my side. “Man, that was some freaky shit earlier.” “What’s going on?” I asked again, looking at the two of them. “How did I get here?” “I brought you here.” The Flash walked into the room. My mouth dropped a little. His voice sounded distorted, just like the night of the hostage incident at Jitters. “And we were wondering you could answer that question.” A man in a motorized wheelchair motored in and parked at the foot of the bed I was laying in. He was a little older judging by the creases in his face, brown hair that was slightly unkept, and piercing blue eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses. He carried himself well despite being in a wheelchair, but his expression on his face was full of curiosity. Holy shit. “You’re...Doctor Wells.” I breathed in awe. “Indeed I am.” Doctor Wells smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Lewis.” “How...?” I began. “You’re in a relationship with Mr. Allen.” He replied. “I believe you’ve already met Dr. Snow and Mr. Ramon at your gig earlier.” I looked at Caitlin and Cisco. “Does Barry know you work with the Flash?” I asked, looking at the speedster. “Umm..” The two began, shifting nervously. The Flash tensed up a little. “No, Mr. Allen does not know that they are working with him.” Doctor Wells replied. “It’s...a complicated explanation.” “Why am I here?” My brows furrowed. “There was a meta-human attack shortly after you left a bar tonight.” Doctor Wells continued to explain. “The meta-human is a Collin Harris. He can emit a fear-inducing poison into the air around him and cause hallucinations that take on people’s worst fears.” He pressed a button and an image of the man appeared on one of the screens. I flinched at the sight of him. “The Boogeyman.” I stared at the image. “He calls himself the Boogeyman.” “Hey, that’s my job naming the meta-humans,” Cisco began. “But that’s...a good one.” He stopped talking and rubbed his head uncomfortably as Caitlin shot him a look. Really, Cisco? Now? She sighed in frustration at him. Doctor Wells didn’t seem to approve either. “Thank you, Mr. Ramon.” He brushed over the comment. “As I was saying, Mr. Harris has the ability to show people their worst fears. Everyone on the street during the entire attack except for you, Miss Lewis. You were incapacitated for a few minutes and then somehow turned his own attack against him long enough for the Flash to stop him.” I sat there thinking long and hard, processing what happened. “I don’t know how.” I began with a deep breath. “I was in that nightmare world and Harris was there. We interacted with each other and he taunted me.” “How?” Caitlin asked. “Cisco and I were right next to you when that happened. We went down and we never interacted with him. We never even saw him during the attack.” “I don’t know.” I shook my head. “All I did was push him out of my mind. I pictured a wall. Then there was this white light and then I woke up.” “That’s when the attack was reversed on to him and I took him out.” The Flash spoke. I jumped a little at his voice. He was so quiet. “Miss Lewis,” Doctor Wells took his glasses off and studied me carefully. “We have a reason to believe that you might be a meta-human. Someone who was affected by the dark matter released into the air on the night of the explosion here. Is there any truth to that?” I swallowed nervously. “What if I am?” I asked. “What would you do to me?” “I can assure you that we will not lock you up like some test subject.” Doctor Wells assured. “Or perform any testing on you without your permission. None of it would be unethical.” “We just want to help you and anyone else who was affected by the Particle Accelerator explosion.” Caitlin explained. “Most of the meta-humans we’ve come across haven’t been too kind.” The Flash added. “We capture them and put them in the Pipeline where they won’t hurt anyone.” “And because you’re Barry’s girlfriend,” Cisco put in. “We’ll take extra care of you and not force you to do anything you don’t want to do or feel uncomfortable with.” I sat in silence and thought of the pros and cons to my situation. “If it’s any consolation,” The Flash spoke. “I was affected by the explosion. They found me and taught me how to use my abilities. They’re good people, Riley.” I swallowed and nodded slowly. “I can hear people’s thoughts.” I began. “Whoa.” Cisco breathed. Caitlin grabbed a tablet and started typing. “When did this start?” Doctor Wells asked. “It started after the explosion. At first it was just painful headaches. I thought it was a string of really bad migraines and I tried anything to help alleviate the pain, but nothing worked. Pain medication, acupuncture, even a daith piercing didn’t work. Then I started to hear people talk, but their mouths weren’t moving. Sometimes the thoughts were really personal. People were keeping secrets from their loved ones like having an affair or kept a pregnancy from them. Sometimes there were silent pleas.” I explained. “Then I really started to understand my ability when I found out my ex was cheating on me with some woman.” Cisco and Caitlin winced at the thought. Doctor Wells sat unmoving and continued listening. The Flash stood there with a rigid expression. “I suspected something was up with him when I started to hear his thoughts. Then one day when I was going to his apartment and was outside of his unit I got images of him being intimate with another woman and I could hear everything that was going through his mind.” “That’s horrible.” Caitlin looked at me with a sad expression. “It made dating much worse after that.” I continued. “I could hear what they thought. I could hear whether they wanted to just hook up or if they wanted a genuine relationship. This whole mind reading thing made it more difficult whenever I visit my parents because I could hear everything my mom thought about me. She kept comparing me to my older sister and kept wishing that I would be more successful.” “I know what that feels like.” Cisco bit his lip. “I have an older brother named Dante. My parents always spoke so highly of him because he’s a talented pianist. He even played at Carnegie Hall a few times. My parents don’t think much of me and my job.” I felt my heart tug out for sympathy at Cisco. “How have you worked with your ability?” Doctor Wells asked. “I try hard to not read people’s minds.” I explained. “I feel like it’s an invasion of privacy. I always have this mental barrier up to keep myself from reading other people. It’s exhausting. Sometimes I slip up and accidentally hear their thoughts.” “But sometimes it can be useful?” The Flash asked. “A couple.” I nodded. “Sometimes I watch out for my friends. The only situation I saw where it was actually helpful was the hostage situation at Jitters a few weeks ago. We were on a break and I saw some guys by the doors that looked suspicious. I listened to their thoughts and found out they were planning on holding the place up. So, I told Barry that I had a bad feeling something was going to happen. At first he didn’t believe me, but I snapped at him and he realized I was being serious. He left to call the police and then all Hell broke loose.” “You did some quick thinking there.” Doctor Wells observed. “Because you told Mr. Allen, he called Joe West and we were able to pick up the response calls to head to intervene. Then our speedster friend here was able to subdue them and get everyone to safety. You saved lives that night, Miss Lewis.” I gave a small smile. “I know you feel like that this ability is a curse. You feel like you would cause more pain and trouble with it.” I nodded. “That’s where we come in. We want to help you. We want to help you control your ability and learn how to understand it.” I took a deep breath and sighed. “Will you let us help you?” I looked at all of them. They all had encouraging smiles. “One condition.” I spoke after thinking for a bit. “Anything, Miss Lewis.” Doctor Wells nodded. “Don’t tell Barry.” I replied. “I don’t want him to know. At least not yet” “Of course.” He nodded. “It’s our little secret.” I bit my lip in thought. I felt bad for keeping this from him. For once, though, it felt good to finally let someone know what I can do. I struggled for so long keeping this from everyone. Now I had a trio of scientists and a hero I could talk to about it and could learn more about it. “You need a code name.” Cisco smiled. “Something cool and totally you. How about Wavelength?” “Seems rather fitting.” Doctor Wells observed. “You can somehow sync to people’s brainwaves and read their minds.” “Wavelength.” I repeated slowly. “I like it.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Over the course of the next several months things were immensely better. Once a week I went over to S.T.A.R. Labs and let Caitlin and Doctor Wells run tests on me to find out more about my abilities. They never had an encounter with a telepathic meta-human before according to Doctor Wells. I did reflex training with Cisco building strange contraptions and also did drills with the Flash. It definitely felt weird working alongside a well-known superhero. Doctor Wells found an explanation of how my abilities worked. The brain gives off electrical impulses when thoughts are thought. A strong energy source is also sensitive enough to read and interpret the electrical signals. The best way he explained it for me to understand was comparing it to pressing keys on a keyboard. Just like how each key press on a keyboard means a different letter or program, the brain fires its own “key presses” depending on what is going on. Then that energy source, such as my brain, could be used to identify what those key presses mean. On top of working with S.T.A.R. Labs, I also trained at the gym. I focused on kickboxing at first. Once I would get the hang of that, then we would transition into learning Jiu Jitsu. Through all of this training I ended up getting into the best shape I had ever been in. I lost some weight and became more toned. My jaw dropped when I looked at myself in the mirror after six weeks. Things improved at work as well. Iris and I teamed up frequently and ended up getting a few front page notices. Mr. Larkin was also impressed with the photos of the Flash that I took. I’m ninety-nine percent sure that he purposely appeared in places I could get photos of him. I tried asking him once while we ran drills and he denied it, but I’m pretty sure he was lying. Barry and I grew increasingly close to each other as a couple. Not like intimately close with sex since that was still a shaky subject for both of us, but we completely happy with each other. We did double dates with Nat and Adam as well as Iris and Eddie. Eddie was fun to be around when he wasn’t working. I never realized how much of a geek he was outside of work. I even found Joe to be fun around, too, whenever I went over to Barry’s. He also informed me that Roger Clark’s trial was coming up in a couple of weeks. I needed to be there for Thalia. She was getting better, but she still was having a hard time with everything after the assault. She fell into a depression and there were days where I made sure she wasn’t by herself. She appreciated the company very much. It was the very least I could do for her. “Hey, Cisco?” I asked as I dodged a punch from the training dummy he built for our sessions. “Yeah?” He asked while monitoring everything. “You don’t have to directly tell me and I understand the importance of a secret identity,” I threw a few punches at the dummy. “Do you know the Flash’s true identity?” Cisco nearly started choking on the slushee he was slurping on. “Umm..” He began. I turned around and looked at him. “What?” I asked, not paying attention to the dummy. Suddenly a huge punch from the dummy collided with my side and all of the wind was knocked out of me. I collapsed to the ground, sputtering in a coughing fit. “Fucking hell, Cisco.” I wheezed. “Oh, my God!” Cisco scrambled to shut the dummy off. “I’m so sorry, Riley! My hands slipped on the controls.” I waved it away as he scrambled over to me. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I swear that was an accident.” “If you keep apologizing I’ll kick you in the balls.” I frowned at him. He helped me up. “Please don’t tell the others that happened.” He winced. “Cisco,” I shook him by the shoulders. “It’s fine. I’m used to it. Just take a deep breath.” I did a steady deep breath with him and he calmed down. “Better?” He nodded. “Do you know who he is?” I eyed at him suspiciously. “...no?” He drawled out slowly with a shifty expression. “Are you reading my mind? I can’t tell if you are or if you’re still mad at me for making the dummy punch you.” “I’m kidding.” I broke into a smile and punched him jokingly in the arm. “It’s probably some super normal name like Bob. And no, I didn’t read your mind. I wouldn’t do that to you. That’s my personal vow, remember? I’d be breaking my moral ethic code if I dug around in my friends’ thoughts.” “Gotcha...” He nodded. “Cross my heart.” I promised, crossing my heart. “Maybe we should take a break since we’ve been at this for an hour.” “Probably a good idea.” He agreed. “Maybe we should get some ice for that punch.” I nodded in agreement as we headed over to the controls. I grabbed a nearby towel and wiped my face off, wincing at the twinge of pain from my gut. “God, I’m a sweaty mess.” I complained at my smell. “I need a shower.” My phone started ringing. “Oooh who is it?” Cisco raised his brows. I checked the screen. “Barry.” I replied. “Ah, it’s your man.” He wiggled his brows. “My man is also your best friend.” I snorted and answered the phone. “Hi, Barry.” “Hey, where are you at?” Barry greeted on the other end. “I just got done with training.” I replied. Technically I wasn’t lying to him. I didn’t say where I was training at. “What’s up?” “I was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner. Joe’s grilling and Iris and Eddie are going to be there.” He offered. “Yeah, definitely.” I smiled. “I can’t pass up on that offer.” “Great! Does six sound good?” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Do you need me to come get you?” “Barry, you don’t have a car.” I reminded him with a chuckle. Cisco’s brows raised up a little. “Joe has one.” Barry replied. “You’re fine.” I mused. “I am perfectly capable of driving myself over there.” “Okay, then. I will see you later.” “See you in a few hours.” I smiled before hanging up the phone. “Dinner plans?” Cisco asked, chewing on his straw. “Yeah, Joe’s grilling. Iris and Eddie are going to be there as well.” I explained. “Sounds like fun.” He nodded. “Hey guys, Doctor Wells needs you up in the Cortex.” Caitlin’s voice came over the intercoms. “Got it!” Cisco gave a thumbs up. I grabbed my stuff and we made the trek up to the cortex. “Have you seen Doctor Who yet?” I asked. Cisco frowned at me. We shared our nerdy passion of all things geek-related. Whenever I came over to the lab or the four of us hung out for game nights, we’d discuss recent tv shows or movies that came out. “You’ve known me for how long now?” He made a tsk noise. “Girl, you must not know me all that well.” “My bad.” I held my hands up in defense. “Touchy subject?” “I’m just passionate about my fandoms.” He took another sip of his slushee. “As a fellow sci-if nerd, I’m sure you can understand.” I whacked him in the arm. “That’s for the training dummy punching me.” I mused and jogged up to the cortex. “That hurt, you know!” He called after me. “My beautiful skin bruises like a banana.” “Maybe you should take a crack at your training dummy!” I giggled. Cisco jogged up to keep up with me. “Rude!” He replied. “Fair enough, though.” We reached the cortex where Doctor Wells, Caitlin and the Flash were waiting. “Enjoy your session?” Caitlin asked. “She did great!” Cisco replied. “Right until Cisco made it punch me in the side.” I snorted. “You said you weren’t going to tell anyone!” Cisco protested. “You did what?” Caitlin’s eyes went wide. “It was an accident!” Cisco shot back. “I swear.” “Mr. Ramon, try to remember that when we have guests who are willing to test and train with us the goal is to not hurt them.” Doctor Wells shot him a look. “I’m fine.” I assured. “I might be bruised later, but no cracked ribs.” “We’ll do an x-ray later.” Caitlin replied. The Flash on the other hand seemed to find all of this amusing. I plopped down on one of the stools. “What did you want to see us for?” I asked Doctor Wells. “We just wanted to double check a few things with you on your progress.” He explained. They walked with me through the results of the tests they’ve done during the past few weeks. I was getting a little better at reading minds to predict when the Flash would throw punches to dodge when we worked on our drills. They look a lot of scans and had me hooked up to wires to read my brain waves which were higher than normal. Caitlin did an x-ray to make sure I didn’t crack a rib or hit any vital organs. “Nothing looks broken.” She showed me the x-rays. “Nothing looks fractured either. You’ll just be sore for a few days, so take it easy.” I nodded in agreement. “Ice anything down and be sure to take plenty of ibuprofen.” “Yes, ma’am.” I pulled my phone out and checked the time. “Shit, I should get going.” I observed the time. “Where to?” The Flash’s eyes sparked with curiosity. “I’ve got a dinner thing with Barry, Joe, Iris, and Eddie.” I replied, sliding off the stool. “Do you need me to take you home?” He asked. I was caught off guard. “Oh, um.” I rubbed my head. “I drove. I’ll be fine.” “You sure?” “Yeah.” I assured as I headed towards the hallway. “I need to speak with you.” Doctor Wells looked pointedly at the Flash. “I’ll walk her up there.” Cisco offered, walking by the two of them. “Oooh, someone’s in trouble.” I gave Caitlin a small wave. “See you later, Riley.” She gave me a smile. “Bye, Caitlin.” I grinned. I was about to head out, but I stopped myself and turned around. “Doctor Wells?” “Yes?” He looked up. “Thank you.” I gave him a small smile. “For helping out with this. I don’t know how I would have managed without all of you.” He gave something close to a smile. “You are quite welcome, Miss Lewis.” He replied. “Enjoy your evening.” I smiled again and followed Cisco to the elevator. “You have nothing to worry about.” Cisco assured as we headed up to the ground floor. “About what?” I asked. “All of this.” He gestured to everything around us. “Totally understandable that you’re scared at what you can do, but we’re here to help.” He explained. “Doctor Wells feels like it’s a way of making up for the Particle Accelerator explosion. Actually, all of us feel like that.” “It seems to be working out so far.” I pointed out. “You’ve got the Flash.” “And now we’ve got you.” He smiled. “We get to learn more about your abilities.” The doors slide open and we headed out into the lobby. “Have fun tonight.” “That’s a guarantee.” I smiled. “See you soon, Cisco.” “See you later, Riley.” Cisco gave a small wave. As I headed out to my car, my phone rang again. “Hello?” I picked up. “Hey, it’s Anna.” My sister was on the other end. “Hey, how’s it going?” It was good to hear from her again. “Same old, same old.” Anna replied. “How are things with you and Barry?” “They’re good.” I answered. “He actually invited me over for dinner later.” “Aw, that’s great.” She enthused with excitement. “Hey, I have a question for you.” “Shoot.” I said as I unlocked my car. “I have an ultrasound appointment on Tuesday and I was wondering if you wanted to come.” She offered. “We find out if Baby Bartman is a girl or boy.” I nearly dropped my phone. “What about Ethan?” I asked. “He has to work, so I want to invite you.” She clarified. “Mom’s going to be at work, Dad’s at work, Rebecca will be at school, and Sam will be at preschool. What do you say?” “Of course!” I agreed. “Great! The appointment’s at ten in the morning at Doctor Lyle’s office.” Anna added. “Yeah, I remember where she’s at.” I nodded. “Awesome, we’ll see you on Tuesday. Hey, don’t forget to have fun tonight.” She chuckled. “With Barry? It’s hard not to have fun around him.” I broke into a grin. “I’m glad he’s making you happy. You really deserve it.” Anna got a little heartfelt. “Oh, shit, I gotta go. I don’t know if that’s crap or chocolate all over Sam.” I snorted in amusement. “Good luck with that.” I replied. “I’ll see you on Tuesday.” “See you then.” Then the call ended. As I made my way up to my apartment I ran into Thalia. “Thalia?” I gave a small wave. She looked up while putting the keys in her lock, arms full of groceries. “Oh,” She brushed a lock of hair from her face. “Hi, Riley.” “How are you doing?” I asked, walking over to her. “I’ve...I’ve been okay.” She hesitated. “Just tired.” “Let me help you with that.” I took some of her groceries. “Thanks.” She replied and unlocked the door. “You can set them on the table.” “Can do.” I nodded, while heading inside. She had a small table in the main area I set her bags down. God, I don’t know what to do. I froze in my tracks. Shit, I needed a better mental block. “You okay?” I was concerned. “You definitely look like you haven’t been sleeping much.” “The um...the trial’s coming up next Friday.” She took a deep breath. “Oh shit.” I realized. “I have to sit there in that room.” Thalia went all rigid. “With him there.” I guided her to the couch and we sat down. I waited for her to speak. I had to let her make the decisions. “You’ve done so much for me and I can’t thank you enough for that.” “It’s the least I can do.” I assured her. “Will,” She swallowed. “Will you go to the trial with me?” “Are you sure?” I asked. Thalia nodded slowly. “I’m sure.” She replied. “I don’t want to be by myself. My lawyer’s great, but you were there that night and helped me. You know a few people who even work for the police. I don’t know where I would be if you didn’t help me.” I pulled her into a comforting hug. “They’re going to put this bastard away.” I spoke. “For good. This isn’t his first time. He won’t be able to hurt anyone else.” Thalia looked up at me with tears in her eyes. “Thank you.” She sniffled. “It’s going to be okay.” I gave her a small smile. She nodded in assurance. “I should let you go.” She brushed the tears from her eyes. “You’ve probably got some plans tonight.” I opened my mouth. “No, no. It’s fine.” My brows furrowed. “Are you sure?” I asked. “I’m sure.” She nodded again. “Well, okay.” I didn’t completely believe her. “Just give me a call if you need anything, okay?” “Is it dinner with Barry?” She asked hopefully as we got up and headed to the door. “Yeah, it’s with Barry.” I replied. “And his foster dad and his daughter who’s also dating her dad’s partner from work.” “Oh.” Thalia replied softly. “It’s a weird explanation.” I waved it away. “Well, have fun.” She smiled. “Tell Barry hi for me.” “I will.” I smiled back. “Take care, okay? Call me if you need anything.” “Of course.” She agreed. “Take care.” I gave a small wave. She gave a small wave back and closed the door behind me. I headed into my own apartment and did my own routine of getting ready. I made it an effort to pick out something nice to wear from my closet, frowning as I looked through my closet. I pulled out a fresh pair of jeans, a short sleeved forest green tunic dress, my black combat boots, socks, and clean undergarments. I hopped into the shower and scrubbed myself with a pleasant sweet pea scented soap, washed my hair and dried off after I was done. The bruise Caitlin talked about was starting to form a little. It looked pretty gnarly. I wrapped the towel carefully around my body as I used a diffuser to bring the waves out in my hair. “Woo for waves.” I said to myself as I scrunched my hair. Once it was good, I got dressed and fed Link his dinner. “I should bring something.” I drummed my fingers on the table. “Fuck!” I didn’t have enough time to make something. “Eh, I’ll get a bottle of wine.” I shrugged. With Link satisfied with his dinner, I slipped my leather jacket on and headed out. I stopped by Fresh Market and picked up a bottle of moscato on my way to Joe’s. Can’t go wrong, especially if it’s Barefoot wine. I pulled up in the driveway next to Eddie’s car and shut the engine off. I remembered to grab the wine before I headed up the stairs and rang the door bell. I’ve been over a few times, but it still felt weird to just walk into their house. Especially since Joe’s a cop. I heard muffled footsteps approach the door and the sound of the lock being fiddled with. “Riley!” Iris greeted me with a hug. “Barry said you were coming.” “Hi.” I chuckled, hugging her back. “I come bearing gifts.” Iris took the wine and read it. “And this is why you’re my best friend.” She grinned. “I love this stuff.” She moved out of the way for me to come in. “That stuff’s the bomb.” I entered the house. “Come with me!” She led me to the kitchen. “I’m digging your outfit, by the way. It’s really cute; very you.” “You don’t look half bad, yourself.” I complimented. She had a maroon dress with leggings on. “Only reason why I bought the dress was because it has pockets.” She stuck a hand in one and wiggled it around. “Best feature ever.” “Do you need help with anything?” I offered. “No, you don’t have to do that.” She shooed me from the stove and stuck the wine in the fridge. “Iris, there’s a shit load of stuff.” I pointed out. “Don’t pass out on free help.” “Well if you insist.” She finally agreed. “If you can make a big batch of mashed potatoes that would be great. Barry eats like a pig.” “Yet he doesn’t get fat.” I added. “I almost became more muffin top than woman when I stressed ate while working at Jitters.” She mused. “But those cookies are so good.” I groaned. “Which is why I picked up a box of a variety on my way over.” She dramatically showed off the box on the counter. “Oh, my God I love you.” My eyes widened at the sight. These cookies were to die for! “You’re not that hard to please, are you?” Iris laughed. “I’m the easiest date ever.” I replied as I grabbed out the stuff to make potatoes. “Super chill and laid back.” I boiled a pot of water and measured the flakes. Out the window we could see Barry, Eddie, and Joe hanging around the grill all chatting about something. “Eddie and Barry seem to be getting along.” Iris looked out the window. “They do.” She observed. “My dad seems to be getting along with him much better, too.” “I take it your dad wasn’t too happy.” I stirred the flakes. “My dad hated the idea of Eddie and I dating at first.” She washed some lettuce. “But he seems to like him more.” Once the potatoes were done I worked on the gravy next. “What about you? How are things going between the two of you?” That seemed to be the question of the day today. “Things are pretty good.” I said as I grabbed another pot. “Have you two...” Iris danced around the subject. “Done it?” I nearly dropped the pot. “Uh, no.” I replied hastily, blushing. “Sorry for asking that.” She apologized. “The two of you seem pretty serious. If you ever want some advice, all you have to do is just ask” She reassured. “Duly noted.” I nodded. As we continued working on dinner, I felt a pair of hands lightly rest on my shoulders and a soft kiss on my cheek. “You look quite nice tonight.” Barry complimented. I looked over my shoulder and gave him a soft kiss. “Hi.” I greeted with a smile. “When did you get here?” He watched what I was making. “About twenty minutes ago. Iris dragged me inside and I offered to help out.” I replied. “Plus I figured it would be good for you to talk manly things with Joe and Eddie.” “Manly things?” His face crinkled whenever he found something funny. “Like beer and steaks....and....other stuff.” I looked up at him. “I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about.” I waved my hands around. “Oh, my God.” He grabbed my hands quickly. “You almost burned yourself.” I looked over at the stove. I indeed almost burned myself on the boiling pot. “Thanks.” I sucked in a breath. “And this is why Grace isn’t my middle name.” “You okay?” Barry asked, giving my hands a gentle squeeze. The food was practically done so I shut the stove off and draped my arms over his shoulders. He comfortably slid his hands around my waist. “Yes.” I replied. “There you go saving my ass again.” Barry let out a laugh. “What? No, I’m just looking out for my girlfriend.” He replied. “Oh, just shut up and come here.” I pulled him close and kissed him again. Barry relaxed into the kiss and smiled. “Ew, gross.” Iris joked. We pulled apart, chuckling in amusement. Barry still stayed closed, lightly rubbing my back. Just for a brief moment, I let my guard down as I relaxed in his arms. He’s nuts about her. “Do you need help with anything?” He asked. “Just getting these in bowls and getting it out on the table.” I replied. “Can do.” He kissed my forehead. We moved quickly and efficiently to set the table up. “So, who’s idea was this?” I asked Barry quietly. “It was Joe’s.” The corners of his mouth turned up. “Oh.” I raised my brows in surprise. “He likes having you around.” He replied as we finished setting the table. I’ll have to thank him later. Iris brought out our beverage options to the table. Once all of the food was on the table, we all sat down and passed food around. Iris opened the wine I brought and pour herself a glass. “Oh, my God, this wine’s amazing, Riley.” She savored the taste. “I will definitely agree with you on that.” I poured myself a glass and took a sip of it. “The steak’s delicious, Joe.” Eddie complimented. “You’re not just sucking up, are you?” Joe eyed him suspiciously. Eddie’s eyes went wide. “No, it’s really good.” I backed him up. Oh, my God, thank you. Eddie let out a mental sigh of relief. “Well, thank you.” Joe nodded once. “So how’s work going for the two of you?” He asked me and Iris. “Oh,” Iris began. “Not too bad. We’ve got this duo partnership going on where Riley helps get really good pictures of the Flash.” Barry had a small smile on his face while he ate. “Larkin likes our team up so much that he decided we should work together whenever we have a story about the Flash.” I added. “I get in pictures for the other sections of the paper, too. Not just of the Flash.” “Hmm, really now?” Joe looked up with curiosity. “Any stories the two of you have been working on lately?” I let out a small breath and looked at Iris. “Not really.” Iris replied. If they find out we’ve been snooping around for the past few months about the missing people, we’re going to have three very pissed off people at us. “At least nothing real exciting.” “Yep, nothing exciting at the moment.” I agreed. “All way too boring.” “Well, that’s a bummer.” Eddie let out a sigh. “I always like reading something interesting in the newspaper.” He winked at Iris. “Not work related, but my sister finds out the gender of her baby on Tuesday.” I put in. “Oooh, that’s always exciting!” Iris lit up. “Congrats.” Barry smiled. “Do you know the names they picked out?” Joe asked. “Cora Grace if it’s a girl and Adam Ryan if it’s a boy.” I replied, eating a green bean. “Aw, those are cute names.” Iris beamed. “Do you get to go to the ultrasound?” “Yep. Both of my parents are working and so is my brother-in-law. So, my sister wanted to invite me to come along.” I nodded. “Well, congratulations on being an aunt. For the third time.” Barry chuckled. “Third time?” Joe asked. “She’s got a niece and a nephew.” Barry explained. “They’re adorable.” “And they’re asking when they’ll see Barry again.” I mused. Barry raised his brows in surprise. “Wait...they...me?” He asked, pointing to himself in shock. “They might start calling you Uncle Barry.” I giggled. Everyone burst into laughter. “That’s got a nice ring to it.” Joe wiped away a tear of laughter. “He’s pretty good around them.” I agreed. Once we finished eating dinner I helped Iris clear the table and we grabbed the desert. “We have an assortments of cookies that are fresh from Jitters and a couple of different flavors of ice cream.” Iris sang as she came out back into the dining room. “Oh, my God, yes.” Barry grabbed a bowl.”What flavor do you want, Riley?” “Umm, I’ll have vanilla bean.” I replied. Iris and I went back to the fridge to grab a few toppings. When we came back he had a bowl ready for me with a chocolate chip cookie wedged in it. “Thanks.” I kissed him on the cheek. I took a jar of caramel and drizzled it over my ice cream. “Ooooh, my God.” My mouth watered at my desert. Barry chuckled in amusement as he scooped his and grabbed a cookie. The others grabbed their bowls and dug into their deserts. “Iris, these cookies are going to put me a diabetic coma.” Joe took a bite. I personally might go into a food coma after this. As we ate we talked some more, getting caught up with each other. When we finished, I offered doing the dishes. “No, no, no, no.” Barry steered me away from the kitchen. “I’ll get that later. You can go sit on the couch.” “You sure?” I asked. “There’s a lot of dishes.” “No, I got them.” He replied. “I’ll get them when everyone leaves.” We headed over to the couch and flopped on it. I scooted close to him and rested my chin on his shoulder. “I think that went rather well.” I let out a relaxed sigh. “It definitely did.” He agreed. “Definitely better than my family dinners.” I snorted. “Don’t have to listen to my mom nag.” “There’s always that.” He chuckled. He absentmindedly ran his fingers through my hair. I smiled inwardly at the gesture. He nuzzled close, wrapping an arm around me. “You smell really good.” “It’s sweet peas.” I chuckled quietly. “I like it.” He beamed. I took his other hand and interlaced it with mine. Barry gave it a gentle squeeze. “Do you want to turn a movie on? We can see if the others want to watch, too.” “Sure.” I nodded as I scooted over so he could get the remote. He turned the TV on and flipped it to Netflix. “Hmm, what to watch.” He murmured to himself. The others walked in and plopped in various spots. “What are you thinking?” Joe asked. “I...have no idea.” Barry let out a frustrated sigh. “So many choices. If anyone has suggestions feel free.” “I think Eddie could brush up on his Star Wars trivia.” Iris suggested with a smirk. “That was one time I got excited and my fingers slipped.” Eddie looked betrayed as Joe laughed. “What happened?” I quietly asked Barry. “We did a trivia night at Jitters one time and there were a few Star Wars questions. Eddie didn’t know the answer to the name of Han Solo’s ship.” He explained. “How can you not know the Millennium Falcon?” My mouth dropped. Barry shrugged. “Eddie, do you live under a rock?” Eddie shot Barry a look. “It didn’t help when the opposing team’s name was Pride and Padawans.” He frowned. “And no, I don’t live under a rock. I’m just not as much of a fan as everyone else clearly is.” “It’s okay, babe.” Iris patted him on the arm. “Star Wars?” Joe asked. “Why not.” Eddie sighed. We ended up turning A New Hope on and enjoyed watching it. Every once in a while Eddie would ask a question pertaining to the movie and one of us would answer it. “Hmm, we should have you on our team for Trivia Night.” Iris observed. “What are your specialties?” “Mostly anything science fiction or fantasy.” I replied. “Anything like Harry Potter, Doctor Who, Lord of the Rings, Supernatural, and Star Wars.” Iris raised her brows in surprise. “We’re taking up on that offer.” Eddie concluded. “Glad I can be of some use.” I chuckled. As we kept watching the movie, Barry had me sit in front of him and I got a shoulder massage from him. He worked the kinks and knots out in my shoulders and had a gentle touch if he went lower. My bruise started to throb a little more than it did earlier as the night went on. I gave him a small heads up about the bruise. I technically didn’t lie about getting it while training. He didn’t look too happy when I told him about it because he hated seeing me get hurt, but he would eventually get over it. When the movie was over, Iris and Eddie departed with hugs and left the house. “You sure you still don’t want help with the dishes?” I asked one last time before I was getting ready to leave. He blocked the way to the kitchen. “I’m sure.” He chuckled, wrapping his arms around me. “You’re terrible.” I kissed him softly. “No, I’m being a gentleman.” He disagreed with another kiss, cupping my face. I smiled as his lips met mine, holding on to the kiss. His mouth moved expertly over mine as I moved with the kiss. His hands wrapped around my waist as he continued to kiss me. I teased his lower lip with the tip of my tongue and he greedily welcomed it. He shifted us towards the back of the couch and I sat on top of it, kissing him urgently. Oh, my God. Do I invite him to stay the night? What do I do? “If you do it on my couch I will shoot you, Barry.” Joe called from somewhere upstairs. We pulled apart from each other, breathing heavily. Barry let out a shaky chuckle of amusement. “Well, this is an embarrassing situation.” He pulled me close. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he shifted uncomfortably. “Oh.” I realized with a muffled giggle. “I’m so sorry.” “I’m not.” He kissed my neck once. “Completely worth it.” “Well,” I looked up at him. “If you wanted, you could stay over.” Where’s my confidence coming from? “Are you serious?” It took him by complete surprise. It took me by surprise, too! “Are...are you sure?” I replied with a mere nip on his earlobe. Barry shuddered in pleasure and stifled a groan. “Does that answer your question?” I murmured in his ear. He let out a frustrated sigh. “God, you’re making this difficult.” He chuckled. “Every part of me right now is screaming hell yes, but to be quite honest I’m not exactly prepared.” A part of me felt a little deflated at his response. “I’m sorry.” He winced. “No, no.” I assured. “It’s okay.” “Which actually means ‘no, it’s not okay.’” “I’m actually thinking the same thing.” I held his gaze. “Believe me, every ounce of me wants to, but I’m not prepared either.” Barry took a deep breath and let out a sigh. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” He asked with a sudden serious expression. “It’s been a while for both of us.” I nodded. “We’ve been together for three months and I understand if we’re not completely comfortable yet.” “I just don’t want you to freak out or make you uncomfortable.” He bit his lower lip. I slipped my hands into his and squeezed them gently. “I promise you that you’re not making me uncomfortable.” I reassured him with a smile. “Plus, that felt really nice. It felt amazing, actually.” He smiled back and softly kissed me. “I just wanted to make sure.” He rested his forehead against mine. I squeezed his hands in comfort and we were silent for a bit. “I don’t regret a single bit of it.” I smiled at him. “Neither do I.” He smiled back. Shortly after that, Barry walked me to my car. With much frustration from both sides, I had to leave to go home. I was pretty happy with how the evening went. Both of us knew what we wanted and even made sure the other was comfortable enough for when the time came we would be intimate. It felt fantastic knowing that my opinion was valued. It was a little frustrating going to sleep that night, but I eventually was able to. The following Tuesday morning I met Anna at Doctor Lyle’s office. Anna was one of those who could rock the bump really well. “Oh, my God, you look adorable!” I squealed when I hugged her. “You’re not even six months along!” “Just you wait until your time comes.” Anna laughed as she hugged me back. “I’m so glad you were able to make it out today.” “Not a problem.” I waved it away. “I had today off so it worked out pretty well.” “Still,” Anna replied. “It’s much appreciated.” “Anything for my sis.” I shrugged sheepishly. I followed Anna inside and sat down in one of the chairs as she checked in. She let out a small sigh as she sat down next to me. “How are the kids?” “They haven’t been too bad.” She picked up a magazine and started flipping through it. “A little rambunctious, but that’s expected at their age. They’ve been fighting a lot lately, though.” “I remember that age.” I snorted once. “We’d fight all the time; nonstop bickering.” “I think we got more on Mom and Dad’s nerves than we got on each other’s nerves.” Anna smiled at the thought. “More on their nerves because we constantly fought and wouldn’t shut up.” “Never thought I would be best friends with my sister.” I stared at a painting on the wall. It was some abstract art that depicted some café in France. “Neither would I.” She agreed. “But, I’m glad.” She squeezed my hand. I looked at her and squeezed back. “I’m sorry Mom compares you to me all the time. Have you heard from her lately?” I blinked a little, slightly taken surprise. “Um, no.” I straightened a little in my seat. “Not since our fight. She made it clear she didn’t want to speak to me.” “What did you two fight about?”Anna asked hesitantly. “If you don’t mind me asking.” “Well,” I took a deep breath. “Mom did some digging on Barry. His last name sounded familiar and she found out that his dad’s in prison for allegedly murdering his wife Nora.” “Allegedly? I thought they confirmed that he did it.” She raised her brows. “Why would a man, who’s a doctor, kill his wife that he loved very much. He even tried to save her.” I shrugged. “Yeah, that doesn’t make sense at all.” She agreed. “So, Mom found out that you’re dating the son of a supposed murder convict, she didn’t like it and you defended Barry and his dad.” “Yep.” I sighed. “She didn’t want to be affiliated with the likes of one so she disowned me.” “God, Mom’s a bitch.” Anna frowned. One lady sitting nearby frowned disapprovingly at us. “She holds too high of expectations.” “I think it’s because of her job.” I pointed out. “What does Dad think?” “Dad doesn’t think any less of him.” I replied. “As long as I’m happy, Dad’s happy. Barry makes me happy.” “Which also makes me happy.” Anna added. “The guy’s a perfect match for you. He’s all sweet around you, he cares about you, and he’s just as nerdy as you. Hell, whenever you’re in the same room together and you’re not paying attention, he steals glances at you. He looks at you in deep admiration.” “What?” I shook my head in disbelief. “We’ve only been together for three months. We’re still kinda in that honeymoon phase of the relationship.” “I’ve seen him look at you.” She looked at me seriously. “There’s something about the way he looks at you and I think it’s something good. I understand why you’re cautious about getting close and attached to him. You don’t want to get hurt again.” I nodded in agreement at her words. “However, don’t let that be the reason to fully enjoy your relationship with him. He’s not Grant. Thank fucking God he’s not or I would kill him if he ever hurt you. It’s like what Dad always said; don’t miss the ripples.” I got all misty-eyed at her and blinked so they wouldn’t turn into tears. “God damn it, you’re gonna make me cry.” I muttered. Anna merely chuckled in amusement. “It’s my job.” She grinned. The door to the exam rooms opened and a brunette nurse walked out. “Anna Bartman?” She called. Anna gave me a grin. “Let’s go see if we have a girl or boy.” She gathered her things. I helped her up and we headed over to the nurse. “Hi.” The nurse greeted. “And you are?” “I’m her sister.” I replied. “Well, it’s wonderful to have some family here today.” She smiled. “Right this way.” The nurse led us down a hallway and to one of the exam rooms. I took Anna’s stuff and stuck them under the chair I sat in while she sat up on the examination table. The nurse took her blood pressure, ran over any medications she took, measured her height and weight along with a few other things. Shortly after she left, Doctor Lyle came in. “Hello!” Doctor Lyle greeted. She looked to be in her fifties, judging by the graying in her hair and faint wrinkles appearing. “How are we doing?” “Hi, Doctor Lyle.” Anna greeted her with a smile. “I’m doing pretty well.” “And who’s this?” Doctor Lyle asked, gesturing towards me. “I don’t believe we’ve met.” “This is my younger sister Riley. Ethan couldn’t make it in today, so I invited her.” Anna explained. “Nice to meet you.” I shook hands with her. “Well, you are in for a special treat today.” Doctor Lyle smiled. “Gretchen’s grabbing the equipment.” Dr. Lyle did some standard procedures to see how the baby was doing until Gretchen the nurse came back in with the ultrasound equipment. They hooked up, applied the gel, and Anna laid on her back. Anna’s heartbeat could be heard loud through the speakers. The black and white images came in and out as Doctor Lyle moved the instrument around to find the baby. Beneath Anna’s heartbeat I could hear a second one that was much faster. “There’s your baby’s heartbeat.” She moved around until she spotted a pair of feet. “Oh! There’s the feet!” She moved around some more, studying the screen carefully. “Congrats, Mrs. Bartman. It looks like you’re having a girl.” Even though this was her third child, Anna’s eyes welled up as she got emotional. I couldn’t help it, but get a little misty-eyed as well. I smiled with much happiness for her as we looked at the image of her unborn daughter on the screen. “Hi, Cora Grace.” Anna murmured softly. A niece. I’m having a second niece. “I wonder how Ethan’s going to feel about having another girl.” I chuckled. Anna laughed with amusement. “He was really hoping for another boy.” Anna kept staring at the screen. “Sam’s not going to be happy, though.” I chuckled at the thought of a grumpy Sam. Doctor Lyle finished up by checking for any abnormalities, cleaning off Anna’s abdomen of the gel, putting the equipment away, and setting up another appointment with Anna in a few weeks. “Do you want to grab some lunch?” Anna asked as we walked out of the office building. “Sure.” I agreed. “Where to?” “Panera sound good to you?” She suggested. “I can never say no to that.” I nodded. “Great! I’ll meet you over there.” We drove separately to Panera where we had a bit of an early lunch. Anna got a sandwich while I got a cheddar broccoli bread bowl. We talked more on various subjects and during our conversation the baby starting kicking pretty hard. “Jesus Christ, kid.” Anna winced. “What?” I looked up a little alarmed. “She’s just kicking pretty hard. Want to feel?” She explained. I held my hand out and she guided it to where I could feel baby Cora kick. For a second there was nothing. Then I felt a jab at my hand. “Third kid and it still amazes me.” I smiled. “It still amazes me, too.” She smiled back. Cora kicked a little more and then she stopped for a while, all tuckered out. “You should bring Barry some lunch.” “Ooh, I should. I actually haven’t done that yet.” I agreed. “Most of the time he picks me up for lunch or we’ll meet somewhere. I’ve never brought him lunch before.” “You should. It’ll be cute.” Anna grinned. I pulled my phone out and started a text. I’m out for lunch with Anna. We’re at Panera and we’re almost done. Do you want anything? I can stop by when we’re done. About a minute later there was a reply from him. Oh my God you’re the best! It works out because I haven’t been able to run out to grab something. Anything particular you want? The Italian Sandwich is fine. Ooh and maybe their passion papaya hibiscus green tea. Anything for you.☺ I placed his order in and waited to pick it up. Once it did, Anna and I headed out to our cars where we departed our ways. “Say hi to Barry for me.” She hugged me. “Of course.” I smiled. “Stay out of trouble, too.” She added. “I don’t want to hear about you getting beaten up or caught in the middle of some meta-human attack.” I couldn’t promise her on that. “I’ll try.” I forced a smile. She climbed in to her car and I climbed into mine. Then I made my way towards the CCPD. When I got inside the precinct, I got a few hellos from officers passing by as I made my way through the lobby. I saw Joe at his desk across from Eddie both focused in their work. Captain Singh walked by, discussing something with a fellow officer. “Barry’s up in his lab.” He glanced at me as he walked by. “Thanks.” I nodded once and made my way up the stairs. I followed the hallway down to his lab and stopped in the doorway. Barry was poured over a microscope and had various paperwork scattered about his desk. He studied closely at a specimen, adjusting the knobs to get a closer look. “Knock knock.” I greeted. “Hey.” He looked up and broke into a smile. He straightened himself up and cleared some space on his desk. “I come bearing gifts.” I held his lunch up, heading over to them. Within a few strides he took his lunch and placed them on his desk, then cupped my face and deeply kissed me. I deeply kissed him back and held it. It was an electrifying feeling that surged through my body. When we parted just a little, both of us were breathless. “Well, hello to you, too.” I grinned. Barry chuckled and kissed my forehead, rubbing my arm gently. “Hi.” He smiled. “Thank you for bringing lunch.” “Anything for you.” I softly kissed him. Then I plopped a spot in one of the chairs by his desk. “Anna says hi.” “What’s she having?” He asked as he opened his lunch. “I’ve been thinking about that today.” “I am officially having another niece.” I replied. “That’s awesome!” He cheered. “I’m so happy for you. How far along is she?” “She’s about halfway through.” I replied. “Getting antsy?” “Who isn’t when someone’s having a baby?” I chuckled. “Fair point.” He shrugged his shoulders, unwrapping his sandwich and took a bite. “You, my dear, are a life saver. I thought I was going to starve to death.” “You would’ve survived.” I stuck a tongue out. Barry wolfed his sandwich down and took a sip of his tea. “You’ve got a smidge on the corner of your mouth.” I walked up to him and wiped it with a thumb, then cleaned it off with a napkin. “God, I’m a slob.” He cringed. “Sorry.” “It’s okay.” I chuckled. “You were just hungry.” “Seriously, though.” He replied. “Thank you.” He sat on the desk and held his hand out. I took it and he pulled me into his lap. He wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his chin on my shoulder. I let out a happy sigh. “You should stay over some night this week.” I suggested. “I should?” He asked. “You should.” I replied, kissing his cheek. “We don’t have to be intimate, but I wouldn’t mind sleeping in the same bed as you.” Barry nuzzled my cheek. “That does sound like a nice offer.” He agreed softly. “Gives us a chance to ease into things.” “We could do a date night where we could cook dinner, too.” I added. “I like the sound of that.” He agreed with a smile. “Yeah?” “Definitely.” He chuckled in amusement. “We should do it.” “When do you want to?” I asked. “How about tomorrow?” He replied after a moment of thinking. I smiled and nodded. “I’d like that.” I agreed. “Great.” He smiled back and softly kissed me. “Anything in particular that you want?” “Um,” He paused for a bit. “Spaghetti sound good?” “Spaghetti it is.” I concluded. “And I will make lots of it because you eat like a pig.”
10065341	Your Body Is A	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by TouchoftheWind", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2009-03-29T00:00:00", "words": "2,046", "Additional Tags": "Slash sex, Sexual Content, Crossover, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance", "Relationship": "Harry Potter/Other(s)", "Character": "Harry Potter", "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "HPFandom", "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 }	Banner By Me! A/N: This is a Harry Potter and Covenant One-shot. Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. Song used is ‘Your Body Is A Wonderland’ By John Mayer. Rating: Mature Author: Touch of the Wind Pairings: Harry x Tyler Your Body Is A Wonderland Harry’s emerald eyes gazed at the sleeping figure, the broad shoulders, however smaller than his own, the brown hair which was long enough that it fell over the white linen of the pillow like a halo. The long eye lashes resting against his smooth skin…those kissable lips…the small of his back leading to his firm rear which was covered by sheets. “I can feel you staring,” Tyler’s voice rose from the bed, one blue eye opened and looked at the man leaning on the doorway.“Can’t help it,” Harry said, licking his lips and gaining a laugh from Tyler.Tyler groaned and buried his head into his pillows as Harry came and laid on the bed.“I have to go, I have class soon,” Tyler moaned, though he wanted nothing more to spend the rest of the day with the man next to him. Harry chuckled and pressed a kiss to Tyler’s shoulder.“You don’t have to leave, skip class, stay here with me,” Harry said while pressing kisses to Tyler’s bare shoulder.“Don’t tempt me,” Tyler said as he pushed Harry away half heartedly.“Come on, we have this room all afternoon, do you really expect me to stay here alone?” Harry asked, turning his green eyes and pouting lip to his lover. Tyler bit back a snort of laughter.“I’m sure you will survive,” Tyler stated as he sat up and began to roll from the bed. However, Harry had other ideas; he grabbed his younger lover around his slender waist and pulled him towards the middle of the bed.“Harry!” Tyler moaned as Harry rolled onto the smaller man.“It was the only thing left to do,” Harry said with a smirk, then leaned down and began to kiss Tyler thoroughly.We got the afternoon You got this room for two One thing I've left to do Discover me Discovering you “Fine, I’ll stay!” Tyler said once Harry had broken the kiss.“Good,” was the murmured reply into his neck as Harry bent down and began to suckle on the tanned skin there.“You know I am going to have to tell my brothers about you,” Tyler said breathlessly, it was really hard to concentrate when those lips were anywhere on him.“Why?” Harry asked while he moved to bite Tyler’s earlobe.“Cause they keep…” Tyler stopped and let out a strangled moan before continuing. “Wondering where I am staying and what I am doing.”“Fine, but no more talk of them,” Harry said and moved to kiss Tyler soundly.Harry began to rub Tyler’s arms with his strong hands and slowly but firmly began to grind his hips into Tyler’s.“When are you leaving next?” Tyler asked and Harry immediately stopped and looked down at his blue eyed lover.“Why?”“I don’t want to wake up and find you gone again,” Tyler said while biting his lip.“Not this time, not leaving for a bit yet,” Harry said and kissed Tyler on his cheek. “I will be here when you wake,” he promised.Tyler smiled and dragged Harry down for a kiss while playfully rolling his hips up into Harry’s. Harry moaned into the kiss before he grabbed Tyler’s hips and firmly held them in place on the bed. One mile to every inch of Your skin like porcelain One pair of candy lips and Your bubblegum tongue Harry then gave a playful grin and began to lean down and kiss Tyler’s neck and slowly worked his way to Tyler’s collar bone while listening to the mewls from his younger lover. He swirled his tongue over the hot skin and pressed his hips down onto Tyler’s body, making the teen cry and thrust his own hips up.Harry ran his hands up and down Tyler’s side and the smaller male squirmed under his touch. Tyler was sure that Harry’s fingers left warm burning patterns of desire on his skin. Tyler gave a moan when he felt Harry’s magic travel through those talented fingers and connect with his own magic.Harry smiled as he heard Tyler moan and bit back a moan of his own when Tyler’s magic rushed into him. They could feel each other’s emotions and could feel the love they held for one another. Tyler flipped them over as soon as he heard Harry’s almost moan and the pair was vaguely aware of sheets falling from the bed.Tyler straddled Harry and began to rock their aching erections together, bringing out a moan from the older male. They kept a steady rhythm and began to kiss frantically; Harry running his strong hands over Tyler’s back and their magic beginning to crackle around them. With a shout they both released and Tyler collapsed onto Harry, both men panting and their bodies wet with perspiration.“What are you doing tonight?” Harry gasped out.“Was going to go to Nicky’s with my brothers,” Tyler answered while rolling off of Harry and lying next to him.“No you’re not, this is bound to be a while,” Harry whispered seductively.And if you want love We'll make it Swimming a deep sea Of blankets Take all your big plans And break 'em This is bound to be a while Tyler smiled and Harry leaned over and kissed Tyler softly. Harry began to kiss his way down Tyler’s body, licking and sucking randomly, driving Tyler crazy with sensations. Stopping at one of Tyler’s nipples, he began to sucking on the nub while his finger played with the other.Moving over the toned, tanned stomach Harry dipped his tongue teasingly into Tyler’s naval bringing a gasping moan from the younger man. Harry rubbed his strong hands up and down Tyler’s side and down onto Tyler’s muscled legs.Moving down to his prize, Harry ghosted his breath along Tyler’s straining erection before taking it all in his mouth, licking and sucking Tyler. Hands grabbed Harry’s dark locks forcing him to take more. Your body Is a wonderland Your body is a wonder (I'll use my hands) Your body Is a wonderland Harry opened his emerald eyes and looked up at Tyler. Tyler’s head was thrown back, sweat dripping down his neck, his hair spread against the pillow and his bottom lip held between his teeth to try and stifle loud moans that were building up. “So…close,” Tyler gasped out. Harry gave a firm suck and then pulled back.“Harry!” Tyler moaned in disappointment, however, it turned into a gasp of pleasure as one of Harry’s fingers moved towards his puckered hole. Something 'bout the way your hair falls in your face I love the shape you take when crawling towards the pillowcase You tell me where to go and Though I might leave to find it I'll never let your head hit the bed Without my hand behind it Harry lifted one of Tyler’s legs on his shoulder and pushed his finger into the tight heat and watched Tyler’s face.“More!” Tyler whispered pushing back on the digit.Harry obligingly pushed another finger in and rubbed Tyler’s hip teasingly with his other hand. Tyler bucked helplessly on the bed, a slave to Harry’s touch. Harry pushed a third finger in, his eyes never leaving Tyler’s face, and with his other hand guided his aching cock towards Tyler’s wanton hole. Removing his fingers, he quickly pushed into the tight heat and stopped once fully inside his younger lover.You want love? We'll make it Swimming a deep sea Of blankets Take all your big plans And break 'em This is bound to be a while Harry and Tyler laid there gasping for a moment, just feeling complete. Harry looking into Tyler’s blue eyes and moaning at the tight heat he was surrounded with. Tyler looking into Harry’s emerald eyes feeling full and complete.Harry pulled back slowly and then slammed back in before once again stopping. “What do you want, Ty?” Harry asked, his voice husky and breathless.“Hard,” Tyler answered and Harry pulled out and slammed back into Tyler’s willing body.They writhed on the sheets, the sounds of groans and moans, the sound of flesh meeting flesh and the bed slamming against the wall filling the room. Before long the cry of their climax filled the room.Silence filled the room; however the occasional whisper was heard saying three words, ‘I Love You’. Your body Is a wonderland Your body is a wonder (I'll use my hands) Your body Is a wonderland Damn baby You frustrate me I know you're mine all mine all mine But you look so good it hurts sometimes Your body Is a wonderland Your body is a wonder (I'll use my hands) Your body Is a wonderland Your body is a wonderland 00000Caleb stared at the phone with a curious expression on his face, it was then that Reid bounced into the room.“Is Ty on his way here?” He asked as he sat down on the sofa by the window.“No, he just called and cancelled,” Caleb told the blonde.“What?” Reid exclaimed, “He is always cancelling these days!”“Do you think he met someone?” Caleb questioned.“Not that I know of, and we know that any girl in Ipswich would not keep it quiet if she hooked up with one of us,” Reid answered.“True, let’s ask Pogue,” both Reid and Caleb headed down to the room where Pogue was getting ready and entered to see their brother coming out from his shower.“What’s up?”“Tyler cancelled again, he skipped class and cancelled on us, we think there may be a girl…” Caleb prompted.“He hasn’t mentioned a girl to me,” Pogue started, “and we all know that the girls in this town wouldn’t keep it a secret.”“That’s what I said,” Caleb told the biker.“I know how we can find him!” Reid said and dashed over to Caleb’s laptop.“What are you doing?” Caleb asked hoping the blonde wasn’t going to break his computer.“Tyler’s cell has GPS, I can turn it on and see where he is,” Reid explained, his fingers flying over the keyboard.“How do you know this?” Caleb asked shocked.“Ty taught me,” Reid said with a shrug, “Got him!” Reid cheered.“Where is he?” Pogue asked looking at the screen.“The Ipswich Hotel,” Reid answered his brow furrowed in confusion.“Why would Baby Boy be there?” Caleb wondered.“Let’s go!” Reid said jumping up from his seat.“We’ll call by; however, we will not go nosing around!” Caleb replied and followed the blonde from the room. 10 Minutes Later Caleb pulled his silver car into the parking lot of the Hotel his brothers looking around curiously. “Shall I ask at reception?” Pogue asked.“Might as well do,” Caleb answered as all three got out of the car.Reid and Caleb waited by the door and Pogue went inside and talked to the receptionist. A few minutes later he walked back out.“Room 15,” Pogue simply said and the three brothers headed to the room to find the youngest brother.Knocking on the blue door with a gold 15 they waited. Footsteps were heard from inside and the door swung open to reveal a green eyed man who wore a bed sheet around his waist.“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice indicating he was British.“I think we have the wrong room, sorry,” Caleb said and made to walk away when Reid stopped him.“Is Tyler here?” Reid asked on a whim.“Yeah,” the green eyed man answered and turned around slightly in the room and motioned for Tyler to come over.Tyler’s head peered around the door, followed by his body which was also wearing a sheet around his waist.“Hey, guys,” Tyler greeted, his voice shaky and surprised.“Hey, Baby Boy, something you want to tell us?” Reid asked with a teasing grin at the green eyed man. The End Mean ending, I know, please review!
10022075	Girls Of Science Era	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Kaname Madoka, Akemi Homura, Tomoe Mami, Sakura Kyouko, Miki Sayaka, Walbey, Mikuni Oriko, Observers (Fringe)", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by alvaro84", "chapters": "19/19", "completed": "2017-08-06", "published": "2017-02-28T00:00:00", "words": "81,517", "Additional Tags": "Parallel Universes, Parallels, Cortexiphan, Witches, 2017, OMG it's 2017 now, time paradox, Artificial Intelligence, Hive Mind, ESP, Precognition, Transhumanism, quantum entanglement, Despair Event Horizon, pocket universes", "Relationship": "Akemi Homura/Kaname Madoka", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Madoka Magica semi-linear Alternate Multiverse", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika \| Puella Magi Madoka Magica, Fringe (TV)", "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 }	Last Remote v0.9 [May 2017, Hochfeld, Namibia]Someone was lying on her belly in the bushes, with binoculars in her hand. A slim, hooded figure, constantly watching the patrolling guards and the watchtowers, not even caring about the flies anymore, only driving away the fattest from her telescope's lens with a twitch. She had been on watch here every day for the last week, studying the guards’ routes and the timing of their shift changes. She was also looking for those paranormal phenomena that locals were mentioning only in whispers in the doorways and ramshackle taverns rarely visited by the police.Only yellow grass and patches of thorny brushwood grew in the wired area, and nothing moved inside except for the rippling of the hot air. It would have been impossible to go further unnoticed in daylight, but she collected enough information to get inside at night.She saw a lot during the week she spent here in the bushes, at the edge of the civilization, close to a run-of-the-mill, small, poor African town. One year after the military coup, secretly funded by the Moleli government, the facility before her didn’t officially exist. While it wasn’t particularly hard to get inside the fence she had never seen anyone leaving – except for the lorries carrying supplies that were unloaded outside the building and the jeeps that politicians and high ranking officers used to visit the base. And, of course, the police wagons that always came in the dark.Some civilians tried to hunt down the antelopes that got caught inside when the barbed wire fence was built – these people stayed inside forever. The guards escorted most of them inside the huge, flat concrete building, while the others were shot down outside and their bodies thrown into the open pits in the savanna. These unmarked graves were surrounded by flies during the day and ghost lights at night and ghastly whining and groans terrorized anyone who dared to approach. The nearly forgotten descendant of the Ovambo shamans came to calm down the dead, but he was scared away by bursts from the guards’ submachine guns.The scout had heard many interesting things from him, but it wasn’t easy to tell the truth apart from the superstition, especially that the truth she was looking for was far enough from ‘normal’ to look superstition itself. Paranormal experiments seemed to go on in there, but beyond a certain point she couldn’t get a word out of the young shaman.“You’re Japanese, just like those who enticed my younger sister. If you don’t know, who does?”, he snarled at her. “Moleli and his company called them here to bother the dead with their crazy machines. The last word my sister sent was about a ghost they sealed and made work for them. I’ve been having nightmares since then.”Then he fell silent and didn’t tell anything else, no matter how many drinks she bought him. But today she would finally learn what had happened to the missing people and why did this shaman blamed her fellow countrymen. The Sun was slowly creeping towards the horizon, gradually turning into a huge, rippling red disc. The guards were waiting for the relief, and so was the scout in the bush. She knew that the night watch seriously lacked discipline.The growing shadows engulfed the scenery as the Sun finally slid down from the sky. She tardily got up and dusted her clothes.“Mami, you and your dumb ideas... Should I just try to shout like you taught me, these drunkards would shoot me like a partridge...”Rosso Fantasma. She didn’t even have to say the name, it was enough to think of the effect. With this she’d get inside and learn how accurate Oriko’s guess had been. The platinum blonde girl saw the future more clearly than the present, but even her hunches of the present could prove useful, especially if they were concerning her own kind.The electric gate of the building opened. A young girl peeked out, had a careful look around and dashed into the nearby bushes. Her crimson dress and long, red hair fluttered in the wind as she crossing the road, brandishing a spear.The scout couldn’t understand the shouting coming from the watchtowers, but she saw some guards climbing down the ladders and run toward the building, with guns in their hands.A second girl in crimson, looking like the first one’s twin sister appeared and began to run towards the piles of debris on the other side. The guards aimed at her yelling and sprayed her with bullets while running. The girl fell over and stopped moving for good. The guards split up. Two ran toward the corpse while the third dashed through the gate to look if there was more of these mysterious girls. At least he tried, but he slammed into the open gate like he hit solid concrete.“At least I won’t have to take care of this one.”, the spy outside the fence acknowledged. The guards that stayed in the tower broke in shouting again, this time with walkie-talkies in their hands. A siren began to howl, light beams carved yellow circles in the dark blue grass.Now that she dropped her cloak her shoulder length ruby hair that she wore in a short ponytail was almost glowing in the dark. She got gloves and knee pads out of her backpack and completed her outfit with them. She held back a giggle at the guards’ perplexed gestures as they couldn’t find the girl they shot down, then they beheld three of her, grinning down at them from the roof. She grinned too as she disappeared from human sight.The electric fence clattered. A few seconds later the barbed wire on the top deformed under some invisible weight, then it returned to normal like nothing happened.Very soon she was sitting by the wall next to an iron door, watching the dozens of guards very carefully not to touch any one of them. She had to get inside quickly before someone would have a look at the surveillance displays, because her ability could only fool live observers, not the indifferent glass and silicon.She hoped for someone to open any of the gates or doors to find where those strange escapees came from, but it seemed the inner and outer guard squads were strictly separated. And these guards weren’t even that surprised: they must had seen magical girls before. “One for Oriko!”, she thought.She was getting weary of the concentration she needed to maintain her invisibility. She was already considering returning to the world outside the fence ashamed, when the iron door next to her slammed open. She slipped through the opening without thinking and started to run along the corridor inside.There were more doors sideways but they were all locked and she had no time to tinker with her lock picks, so she just kept running forward. She heard shots behind her back and she didn’t care which squad dogged her, it didn’t really matter. Some of the guards probably remembered to look through night vision.The corridor forked and she sent a few of her illusion bodies to the right while she turned left and kept running. She looked back over her shoulder to see that the guards split up but there was still at least a dozen following her. Behind a bend she found herself in a dead end. She tried a few doors for no avail. The guards were quickly approaching the bend.Suddenly she heard a voice inside her head.“This way!”, it whispered and a door opened silently.After a brief moment of hesitation she dashed through. The door immediately closed behind her back and she saw locks turning and bolts sliding as she turned around. She was in a laboratory surrounded by displays and various unknown devices.“Welcome to the Power Station!”, the voice lilted, this time through a speaker. Female voice, probably too old to be a magical girl, the scout guessed. “You’ll have to forgive me for using the comm. Telepathic communication needs a lot of energy and I can’t easily explain more than the usual few gigajoules with leakage current. Don’t worry, this is a soundproof door.”“Who are you and what do you want from me? Are you the ghost the shaman mentioned?”, the red-haired girl asked.“I have no idea who that ‘shaman’ could be, but you did rather interesting things outside, Sakura Kyouko. The most interesting is, that you did them without a soul gem. You are inside your body.”Even more distrust clouded the face of the spy. They had known she’d come! The voice didn’t disturb herself, she only waited a fraction of a second before she continued.“I must know if I can trust you. Don’t even try to lie to me, I’m constantly measuring your brain waves and the reactions of your body with 7-digit accuracy. I want to study your abilities. I need you for my private research. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything unusual to you.”“Or”, she added after a short pause, like she took a breath, “I can open the door.”Kyouko couldn’t help laughing at the pinch she got into. She suspected that this dubious stranger wanted to subject her to very unpleasant (but perfectly business-as-usual) experiments. But she still had some confidence in the future. While she was conscious, she could still cook up something. With some luck even the guards could mistake her real body for an illusion and she’d be free to look around... as long as she could come to an understanding with this...She gave her a vague nod.“I’m glad to see some sense in you.”, the speaker answered. “By the way, I’m Meuko, the overseer of this facility.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Legendary Wonderland v0.901 [5 May, 2017] [London]Yet another city. They didn’t even know how many cities they had visited in the last few years and they had never seen their nicer sides. And the more cities they had been to, the less difference they could see. Should these cities had been in Europe, Asia or America, the same atmosphere infected them all. The world wasn’t united, but its preparation for the last judgment was.The two girlfriends were shaking with cold in the London night. It was already morning for them, but the Earth’s curvature ignored their inner clocks, and the weather was different too. The World Command demanded veterans for this mission and they were the most experienced veterans the UN/VP (the organization dealing with aliens, magical girls, witches and time-space anomalies) could get. Sakura Kyouko and Tomoe Mami were probably occupied with some black operation as even Homura couldn’t get a word out of the Kazamino bosses.Many things had changed in the last six years, but the look of the girls wasn’t all different now. They looked a bit more mature, but it might have only been the uniforms, the most grown-up attire the maturing 21st century could wrap them in. Madoka had become a bit taller and gloomier while Homura, who had been a serious and mature 14-year-old, hardly changed at all. They were definitely the same girls they were at the time of Walpurgisnacht. At the age of twenty, in their gray camouflage combat uniforms they resembled the child soldiers of the end of the Second World War. But their slow retreat at the edge of a disintegrating universe was still less cruel than being sent to massacre and die in a war beyond reason after a slipshod training.The mission was preceded by unusually serious preparations. When the girls arrived, the neighborhood was already teeming with the vehicles of UN/VP, the British army and Massive Dynamic. The police had just finished the evacuation and cordoned off the near blocks. It was apparent that what they found wasn’t an everyday witch. The only things they remembered causing this huge ruckus were Walpurgisnacht and the collapse of the Sarcophagus in Mecca.They were in the middle of a building site, surrounded by a UN/VP squad in red berets. A short, gray-haired officer (Homura identified him as a Lieutenant General of the British Army with a quick look at his shoulder boards) stood in front of them, and the railed area was guarded by hundreds of soldiers and policemen. Helicopters were circling overhead, sweeping the area with reflectors. The General pointed to the pit of the ground works, where another squad in chemical protective suits were just lowering an amber gas tank into the rift.“Ladies, I am Sir David Jasper Lindsay, Her Majesty’s delegate. And this is the Moorgate Station. The Old Moorgate Station, to be more exact, because the one currently in use was opened in the 50s of the last century. Its predecessor caved in during the Second World War, then it was buried and blacktopped. Unlike me, you are not natives so you probably don’t know about the evil repute of this place, so we prepared this summary for you.”His assistant, a jug-eared, freckled, red haired young soldier gave them a pair of folders while the General kept talking.“The city administration naturally never gave credence to gossip and superstition, but I can tell you that they were relieved when they could rebuild the subway line so it avoided this infamous place. During the 70 years it was in service hundreds of people went missing in this neighborhood and the station was frequently mentioned in the Scotland Yard’s documents. And still, no one could ever find any evidence, despite even police officers being listed among the missing.”Madoka was listening the General carefully while Homura was listening the General and watching Madoka. There were two things she trusted: her own reason and the other girl’s intuition. The story began to look like an old spook story and behind those stories there were often witches. The General nodded acknowledging their attention and continued.“This line was so feared that it got almost closed in the 1930s. During the War the city administration refrained from using this station as a shelter, but finally they opened it. After a few weeks of minor accidents the area was subjected to unusually intense bombing and the exits of the station caved in. The occupants were fleeing through the tunnel when a train crashed into the crowd, got derailed and closed the only way out. The survivors were waiting for the rescue team for several days without supplies. It took almost a week to withdraw enough soldiers from the battlefield to free them from the subway. The press were provided with some standard story, but in reality not every survivor of the train wreck could be rescued in the end. Many of them had to be sent to asylum and many horribly chewed bodies were found down in the tunnel, and none of this got public.”The two girls had seen enough to find it plausible that there had been witches behind this disaster. Many people disappeared in their labyrinths and even more were influenced by them to do horrible things. What these creatures could do with a group of desperate, starving bomb shelter inmates didn’t bear thinking about.“They devoured one another!”, Madoka whispered.The General nodded again.“The investigation concluded the same back then. I know what you might think, and this was the very reason why we asked for UN/VP supervision for the construction works. No one knows how long a bubble universe fed by the energy of several hundred lives can stay stable. We couldn’t risk another disaster.”“And you were right!”, they heard from behind their backs. The girls whirled around, but the familiar creature was only an image on a laptop’s display. The camera turned upward for a moment and they could see Astrid waving, then the image was fixed again at the faux Incubator sitting in her lap.“Walbey!”, the girls called at once.“Hello my dear!”, the creature the other side of the screen looked at Homura. The little white creature treated her as a distant grandchild, just like Junko and Tomohisa had become like her parents. She couldn’t understand why these people wanted to be her family. She had never tried to wheedle her way into anyone’s confidence, she didn’t really know how to handle people to begin with.“Unfortunately I can’t be there now, even though these guys sent us very interesting data from London! However, they forgot to mention that they dispatched you two to handle this anomaly!”“We wanted to surprise you!”, Sir Lindsay grinned.”By the way, is it you who hides Kyouko?”, Homura asked with feigned ease. It was clear that something was wrong.“I’d like to say that she’s babysitting the little Etta.”, Walbey shook his head. In this form he didn’t have access to all those useful human expressions. “But for your safety I have to keep quiet. I’m sorry, I can’t tell you, at least not now.”Madoka anxiously looked at Homura, then back to the display.“But there’s no time to waste, my girls! The General has probably filled your heads with local ghost stories, but the measurements are strange indeed. So strange I needed a little LSD and a lot of Pink Floyd to see what should have been apparent. The bubble’s contact area is much smaller than that of a normal witch barrier. We ran the data through the servers at Massive Dynamic so we know that it probably won’t detach itself from our universe while you’ll be in, but it can collapse any minute. At any rate, I’ve made you a pair of auxiliary resonators tuned to our world, in case of this very eventuality. Should it occur, these are going to automatically catapult you after warning you through your head up displays. You’ll probably see leakage, so don’t be surprised! It also means that seeing strange things doesn’t mean you’re in. No matter how experienced you are, please always mind what your computers indicate! Oh, and break a leg!”The little creature at the other side of the world waved then the screen went blank.“So we’ll fly blind?”, Homura asked.“At least until you get inside. And should the bubble universe collapse you’ll have exactly two minutes to get out of the pit, use the safety ropes. We can’t take the risk, we’ll immediately initiate the countdown should that happen.”, the General answered.The girls read through their folders, checked each other’s equipment item by item (their lives depended on it) and injected themselves with their usual dose of Cortexiphan. Then Homura kissed Madoka’s forehead and Madoka gave Homura a tight hug. Even though they always stayed together and they couldn’t have returned alone, they always said goodbye before their missions. They fastened their carbine-swivels and started their descent. Very soon they lost the sight of the starlit sky and the HAZMAT squad overhead, just like they were descending to the pitch black bottom of the ocean. In this depth the wall was covered with huge fluorescent mushrooms and tiny, glowing maggots wriggled out of their burrows. Homura pulled her helmet’s amber polymer display in front of her eyes and saw Madoka doing the same.The helmet computer combined the ‘real’ and ‘magical’ scenery, corrected the spatial distortions and loops it detected, showed the safest alternative routes toward the center of the labyrinth and their entry point and recorded everything like an airplane’s black box.“T+42 seconds, depth: 34 meters”, Homura read the numbers the computer projected before her eyes. Time was slowing down and distances increased as they approached the former platform.Her feet suddenly hit the ground. She detached herself from the wire rope and left a marker on it. Her helmet camera showed her the ruins of a former subway station: sagged but mostly stable pillars, debris on the once smooth stone floor, scattered bones in the darkness, marked by the biodetector. A differently tuned camera showed centipedes, snails, mushrooms and coarse grass. The marker on the rope was glowing in purplish light, next to the other, pink sphere.She saw Madoka confidently walking toward the barrier, with careful steps not to stomp the little creatures. Homura followed closely, knowing that the bubble could scatter them far from each other should it catch them with a mere few seconds of difference.They sprang over a deep crack that would have been lost behind the magical foliage without their ‘sober’ cameras, and approached that vague, cocoon-like blur that showed the most probable location of the bubble. Curiously this blur seemed to pulsate, extending and contracting like a heart throbbing midair.The helmet screen showed lines of data next to the blur. The wide band sensor caught hints of Hawking radiation. Pairs of virtual particles were popping out of nothing at the edge of the pocket universe and sometimes one of the pair got caught by the bubble while their escaping counterparts formed a faint radiation of particles and antiparticles at the edge of the labyrinth.Normal barriers were constantly shrinking as these little worlds were slowly evaporating through these particles that were produced out of nowhere. This was the reason the witches had to trick clueless people into the labyrinth: witches fed on the energy of their emotions while the tiny event horizons were sustained by the matter of the victims’ bodies. But this bubble was different. Maybe it was even less stable than their support team thought? Homura asked for a confirmation, but they couldn’t sense anything indicating the bubble’s collapse.They circled the barrier with careful, practiced steps and met on the other side. Their moves might have looked like a strange tribal dance to the casual observer, but in fact they were building a mesh of sensors around the cocoon to find a suitable entry point.Then they drew symbols in the air at the marked point. It wasn’t magic, just a signal for their computers. Homura had always hated the next thing. She closed her eyes to counter the side effect of the trick they had to utilize to surprise the witch, to get inside without letting her pull them in.Her combat uniform’s built-in resonator shrieked: the bubble universes’ frequency usually had some unpleasant sounding harmonic. It was a distracting side effect of breaking through the walls between these worlds, just like the dazzling flash of elusive colored light that temporarily blinded her even through her closed eyelids, and the nausea that forced her to her knees. She knew that Olivia could cross these borders without resonators and deep inside she was sure that Madoka could have done it too if she wouldn’t have wanted to stay by her side all the way.Homura looked up and saw Madoka standing beside her, like she always did.“Take a deep breath, Homura-chan, you’ll feel better in no time!”, the other girl smiled behind the visor of her helmet. It was a surreal sight.“I’ll keep the visor open for a while. Warn me if it would be tricky without it, okay?”, Homura asked while she staggered to her feet.She looked around and was pleased by the sight: even her dose of Cortexiphan showed her a decent view of the labyrinth. The little world reflected the subway station outside, its membrane that separated it from the real world seemed to leak both ways. But she hardly had the time for a glance around, a train arrived. She traded a look with Madoka then they boarded the train.They passed unmarked. The passengers were dozing in their seats. The two girls were glad that they didn’t have to fight the familiars: with the elimination of the witch they would get stuck in the collapsing bubble anyway. They cautiously stepped over the wriggling tentacles of a slumbering girl who wore a crown on the top of her raven, bobbed hair and left the carriage.The wind carried flames around them, like they were in hell. Their boots squelched in tar puddles while they were sidestepping the piles of scrap metal. Then one of these piles stirred. Trash and tar slowly formed a creature, the creature reached down and grabbed a porcelain head of a doll. It turned the head in its hand to face the girls, then it began to approach them. Homura looked for a defensible spot, but they were standing in the middle of a barren waste, surrounded by scrap metal piles approaching with swaying steps.The Massive Dynamic Model 78 clicked in her hand as she cocked the gun, and the next click was answered by a rain of gears and drops of tar as the explosive bullet blasted the familiar to pieces.She heard a similar explosion behind her back. After she got out of the time loop Madoka became a good magical girl... No, a good Veneficus Puella, as the press deliberately misconceived the initials of Vortex Patrol. She grew more confident, just like when she signed a pact with the Incubators. All in all, Homura could count on her on the battlefield.Now she was following Madoka, while the pink haired girl went after the guidance strip the navigation software projected on her HUD. They scattered a few more scrap monsters while advancing, just to see them re-assembling from the pieces. It would have been pointless to stop, they could have never ended the battle without vanquishing the witch.Suddenly something unexpected happened. Someone came to their help here, in the dark depths of a labyrinth that had been buried for seventy years. A dark haired girl in a blue dress skittered through the group of monsters with superhuman speed and chopped them into pieces with a sleek blade of a kitchen knife. And what she chopped up wouldn’t stand up again.Magic. Rumors had it that some witches could only be defeated with magical weapons, but Homura had never seen such a thing. Even Walpurgis had been vulnerable to the right amount of firepower. She looked questioningly at Madoka, but the other girl didn’t look back; she was staring frozen at the sky.A huge, disgusting figure was towering above them. Drawers and puppet hands’ strings protruded from its serpentine body. Above its neck it looked like a goateed man, with tar oozing out of its every orifice, and hideous porcelain heads were looking around from the trails of tar.Maybe it wasn’t the most horrible witch they had ever seen, but surely it was among the grossest. Its string-pulled, severed hands were snatching at the girls’ rescuer, but she skillfully evaded every attack and from time to time she landed a hit on the pale, knotted limbs.Homura took aim and shot an explosive bullet right into the monstrosity’s eye. The detonation covered the place with tar and porcelain shards, but the monstrosity’s damaged skull just melted and re-formed itself. It was frustrating how it simply ignored her, keeping on snatching at the girl in blue dress, with success at that. It thoroughly groped the struggling girl, then hurled her to the floor. It held her down with four fingers, stuck out its sticky tar tongue and started to feel its way toward her.Homura was stunned. Madoka wasn’t someone who could sit and watch a monster doing this to a magical girl... why wasn’t she doing anything now? Homura was horrified as she watched the disgusting tongue slowly flowing under the blue skirt...She sprang up, at least she wanted to punch and kick the sickening Freudian monster, but Madoka grabbed her arm and held her back. Homura looked at her perplexedly. Madoka just pointed at the display before her eyes, reminding her that they saw the world differently.“It’s no good, Homura-chan. The witch isn’t there.”She bent down, grabbed a lead pipe and ignoring the monstrous hand she bashed the desperately squirming girl in the head. The towering abomination splattered like it was hit by a comet. The pocket universe started to tremble.The pillar above them lurched as the gravity was preparing to crush them with it. The two girls dragged the third out of harm’s way without thinking, then they exchanged a look. What the hell would they do with an unconscious witch who didn’t even try to hurt them, but she had the grossest familiar they had ever seen? The girl lying before them was about the same age as they were, had pale complexion and delicate face. Witch or not, they pitied her.“Every end is a beginning, and one day this world has to come to an end too. You would be the harbingers of doom, I suppose.”The two girls turned on their heels but they couldn’t see anyone, save for a floating grin.“Excuse my manners... I must have forgotten myself when I couldn’t answer my own riddles for the first time...”The stranger slowly faded in from thin air. First his head, then gradually his every part. A big, bald, bony cat was sitting before the girls, his body covered in tattoos, with a constant, distracting grin, idly flicking his tail. He didn’t look trustworthy in the least.“Please put that glare away. You might stab me with it like Alice does from time to time.”“Do you mean the witch?” Homura watched the cat through her helmet display. “Why are you with her now? Haven’t you juiced enough energy out of her?”“I’m not what you think.”, the cat answered. “The Incubator had long left her, but she needed someone, so she created me, the old, cryptic, selfish friend. Now it’s time for me to be selfless, at least this once. So I ask you: did you come to put an end to this farce? What if I don’t let you?”Madoka sadly shook her head.“This is a different age. Humans have learned about Incubators and united they’re not helpless against witches anymore. They have already prepared the amber gas tanks outside. We just came to try to close this bubble gently and save the survivors, should there be any in here. Should we fail, the HAZMAT squad would freeze your world in time and space.”“So nothing would change. Not every change is good, but this world has been dying for a long time, and it’ll be dying forever if you don’t put an end to its agony.”It was unsettling how the cat was still grinning. He was indeed too much like an ever smiling Incubator.“So you want us to destroy this place?”, Madoka asked while she sat down. She stroked the forehead of the witch whose face calmed at once.“The choice is yours.”, the cat said. “I can only tell you a story about a girl, who wished for a vast and rich Wonderland, and a white rabbit led her there. She had marvelous imagination, she kept reading until late night and in her dreams she was living in the stories she had immersed herself in while she was awake. And she could have it all, she just had to wish.”“But that wish came at a price.”, Homura remarked. Always the same story, but they could never get used to it. Wishes corrupted to curses, and nothing remained but the endless fight with witches and a grave of despair.“You must walk in the same shoes.”, the cat noted. “Yes, it came at a price. At first, Alice had visited her world with pleasure. But soon enough it became a way to escape. Her life in the outside world got ruined by an untouchable criminal you have just seen. Seen as Alice sees him, to be more exact. Here she can fight and defeat him again and again like she never could in her real life. She can avenge her family again and again, her family that this despicable worm burned alive after raping her beloved sister. And while she was fighting this world kept decaying. Hardly anything remained by now, save for this infernal train.”“No wonder this universe is decaying: you’ve been buried for seventy years. You couldn’t devour a single human during that time.”, Homura said.“Seventy years...”, the cat savored her words. “What year is it now? It was 1875 when Alice moved here for good.”“2017.”, the girl answered.“Alice must be hungry.”, the cat mused. “And I am a part of her.”The guns pointed at him in the girls’ hands didn’t seem to trouble him much.“I suggest you to do what you have to do. But I’d appreciate if you did it with due respect. I promise I won’t mess with you like I did with the queen’s executioner.”* * Homura and Madoka silently cried for the girl in blue dress and her cat as they carefully placed the grief seed decorated with butterflies into an amber-polymer container. The little box automatically welded itself together with an orange glow. Now it was ready to take its resting place in a storage, much, much deeper than this subway station. The two girls returned with staggering steps to the wire ropes they used to descend. They weren’t in a hurry: there was no countdown, no quarantine was needed, the mission was a complete success. Not being truly happy about it was merely a part of the job. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Reincarnation v0.903 [Namibia, Central Plateau, near Hochfeld]The lock clicked on the lab’s second door. Kyouko stepped through it without question and walked along the next corridor. What she had seen so far in this complex in the middle of nowhere was mostly like a mix of a military bunker and a research laboratory.She tried to open a door that she walked past by stealth.“The elevator is at the end of the corridor. Go to the 34th floor.”, the voice instructed as if it caught her trying.Kyouko silently stepped into the elevator and pushed two random buttons. She would have been fine with any number as long as it wasn’t 34.“Invalid destination.”, a canned voice announced.She tried more numbers, none of them worked. She took a deep breath and typed 34 with a snarl.“Destination accepted. Let’s go to the minus 34th floor!”This time it was Meuko’s voice. Kyouko didn’t know who the person hiding behind that microphone was, but that someone was apparently playing cat-and-mouse with her. She angrily put her hands in her fatigue’s pocket. She heard whizzing, the content of her stomach tried to find its way back to her throat.“Tests are run at sea level, between floor minus twenty and minus thirty-two to ensure an optimal environment for our subjects.”, Meuko informed her. “You are a particularly important subject so you’ll get your first assignment two more floors deeper.”“You’re messing with me.”, Kyouko answered. “You want to know what would I do if I felt really shitty. But taking me for an idiot won’t be enough for that.”“See for yourself if you don’t believe me.”, the speaker answered. The elevator shook and Kyouko’s weight doubled for a short while. Then everything fell silent, only the door hissed as it let her out to a flying scaffold.Plain, flat concrete walls extended up and down from where she was standing. Her eyes couldn’t get a grip on the endless line of lights that followed a bundle of cables thick as a tree trunk, into the dark nothing in both directions. Kyouko had already been standing at the edge of Grand Canyon and she hadn’t felt that as deep as this mine shaft. Meuko might have been lying and they might haven’t been a mile underground, but the sight was still overwhelming.“Thank you, now I feel like shit.”, she unwittingly grunted.“Okay, actually we have to be this deep because of the safety regulations. Like in Mojave desert. But to make you feel better I tell you that two of your friends are descending too right now. Kaname Madoka and Akemi Homura are exploring a deserted subway tunnel in London.”, Meuko tried to comfort Kyouko who just grit her teeth.“Great...”Kyouko stepped through the thick airlock door. Something flashed and for a moment the redhead imagined seeing the shadows of her own bones projected on the wall.“I have good news for you. I couldn’t observe any pathological conditions in your system.”, the speaker announced. “You are suitable for the tests, and it’s high time to start! Test chamber one, class two opponent. You’ll probably experience strange phenomena but you don’t have to worry about the distortions of the laws of physics. These are corrected by the safety inertial frame of the Power Station.”The airlock opened and something sucked out the air like there was vacuum outside. Kyouko just felt she wouldn’t have any choice but to follow the wind to the next bare room. She could only take a glimpse of the shiny metallic honeycomb pattern embedded in the yellowish, transparent wrapping on the walls before splashing into an invisible chunk of water. It was a familiar feeling: as the living sea surrounded her with crayon-drawn corals, floating schools of fish and dancing light over the sea bed, everything fell into place. Indeed, this test wasn’t the least bit unusual. She was alone in a labyrinth and her opponent was a witch, just the way it used to be. She allowed herself a grim crooked smile at this thought: she must have gone crazy to think of those days with nostalgia.She took the little pistol she had been hiding under her clothes and cocked it. Despite its size the semi-automatic W17 gun was suitable to dispatch most familiars and witches and she wouldn’t have any chance against the rest anyway. She remembered the only fight where it would have been useless, the biggest battle of Mitakihara that she got dragged into by that lunatic Homura. The battle that had marked the beginning of her new life. At last Kyouko curled her mouth in a predatory grin. Her hunting instinct stirred. Face to face with a witch, one against one. No magic, no remote controlled body, no support team, no black box, no computer navigation; just her brains, her gun, her muscles and senses augmented by a standard dose of Cortexiphan.She sneaked from coral to coral over the slanted sea bed, descending toward the heart of the bubble universe. The water around her became darker and the colorful little fish scarcer by every step she took. But something else began to glow in the dusk: a drifting figure, not far ahead of her. It was a young girl, not exactly a child, not yet an adult. Her hair floating around her head looked bluish gray in the twilight, but the turquoise light radiating from her naked body became stronger by the minute and it revealed soon that she wore a fish tail down from her waist. Kyouko sneaked closer to have a look at the mermaid’s face.“Come on, show yourself, tell me the weakness of the witch!”But she wasn’t so confident anymore. The Cortexiphan in her veins whispered that what that face would reveal wouldn’t be the witch’s weakness. And when she finally got a glimpse the sight almost brought her down. The floating, sleeping mermaid wore Sayaka’s face. Suddenly her blue eyes opened and fixed on Kyouko, then bubbles streamed forth from her mouth.“Love me...”, the bubbles whispered. Kyouko didn’t know who the words were addressed to and she felt guilty enough without knowing or admitting that she had known it for years. But this little lapse almost got her killed: four series of needle-sharp teeth clashed where she had been a tenth of a second before.The girl’s fingers pulled the trigger by themselves while she sprang aside with all her strength. Nothing itself bit off a large chunk of the attacking beast’s head. The empty sphere imploded, sea water and tufts of tissue filled its perfect vacuum. The abyssal monster sank into the mud with the remaining half of its head. The mermaid shrieked in bubbles while the tentacle that controlled her dragged her away too. Pink gobbets were floating in the creature’s wake for a second then the whole sea collapsed. A moment later only a deep black grief seed left, swaying on its tip over the bone dry concrete floor. Kyouko pocketed the little magical stone knowing that it wasn’t exactly safe.“You’ve spent 85 seconds in the bubble.”, the speaker announced. “The next test chamber contains a class three opponent. You stand a good chance against it. Unfortunately you’ll fight a class four witch instead.”“Not gonna happen!”, Kyouko sassed. “What kind of an oddball doesn’t know that test subjects have to eat sometimes? I go get some food now.”“There’s a fully equipped kitchen right behind the next test chamber.”, Meuko answered. “I’ll open the door if you pass the test.”Kyouko decided not to respond to her defeat. This unknown someone messing with her from behind a microphone annoyed her, but she didn’t want to gratify them by losing her cool. “I’ll be Homura to you!”, she thought. Then she corrected the thought. She’d be Homura from a number of loops earlier, before she started to come apart at the seams. She regretted a bit that she had cut her hair, it would have been elegant to just flip it back as an answer.She kept walking anyway, making a mental map of everything she passed by. She was looking for a flaw on the walls or anywhere else, for any chance to leave the path that they forced on her. But there was nothing on the walls of the former mine shaft but that perfect, translucent honeycomb pattern. Then, suddenly, something lit up the metal mesh ahead.Kyouko curiously dashed toward the strange light, just to nearly fall on her face in a pair of feet in once high-heeled shoes conveniently left in her way. She stopped to observe the person they belonged to: it was a dark skinned girl around fifteen. Her once elegant high school blazer and painstakingly made cornrow braids made a sharp contrast with her pose. She looked simply tossed against the wall, together with a perfectly mundane machete in her reach. She seemed semi-conscious at best as she sat there clutching a horribly darkened soul gem.“No, you don’t...!”, Kyouko snarled in ever-useful English and grabbed the girl at her blazer.“I’m Nyameka Gretel Mathibe.”, the unknown girl deliriously introduced herself. Even in this state she seemed trying to impress her with the name. She was a relative of the originator of the Power Station. Possibly his daughter.“Good for you.”, the redhead growled. “No, actually too bad for you. Is this glowing in this goddamn mesh your doing?”It was a rhetorical question, but the other girl answered.“They have already started to collect my energy. Fly for your life... A few more minutes and only a magical girl can stop me!”“Don’t even dream about it!” Kyouko took the grief seed from her pocket and pressed it against the other girl’s soul gem.“How could you...?”, Nyameka asked in disbelief. “I can’t feel your magic. Why do you have this?”Kyouko shook her hand as an answer.“Special Agent Sakura Kyouko. Normally you wouldn’t last long with this weak grief seed, so brace yourself! It’ll be a bit shaky but nothing I couldn’t handle!”The little black gem crossed the point where it couldn’t be any darker. Its surface cracked and crashed in, then the ornate grief seed collapsed into a plain black orb. A whirling disk of darkness formed around the floating little ball as its gravity kept on drawing the despair out of the soul gem that was glowing in a brighter shade of red by the minute. Black particles split off the inner edge of the disk and splashed into the liquid looking surface. Nyameka watched the tiny, black hole looking phenomenon with eyes widened in terror. The spectacular spatial distortions around the collapsed grief seed made her dizzy, then she fell headfirst into the nut-sized orb of darkness, together with Kyouko.Splash. Debris and bubbles floated around her for a moment then they began to ascend with swaying moves, in the direction she suspected the surface. Her quickly pulsing soul gem was floating before her, as a warning of a witch, very-very close.They hid in the shadow of a wrecked ship. The old vessel’s deck was full of skeletons, all dressed in surprisingly modern clothes. They could have possibly been the family or friends of the witch, and to Nyameka’s relief they didn’t move.The master of the labyrinth was probably angry. It didn’t waste time or energy to leave baits for the girls but rushed at them from overhead. It was much larger than before and it had grown a whole bouquet of tentacles. Every one of them ended in a human figure, some were familiar to Kyouko, the others probably targeted the other girl. In the new set she recognized not only the mermaid Sayaka, but Mami, Madoka, Homura and even Walter. Then she had to run. She dragged Nyameka along while giving her a short, telepathic briefing.“Stay still. We’ll have to handle this without your magic, otherwise we’d stake our lives in vain! Have you ever shot with a real gun?”The other girl shook her head.“No problem, it’s a toy gun. Where it hits it teleports a cubic meter of anything out of the labyrinth. If you curl up you might even escape with it... if it doesn’t cut you in half, that is. It works much more wickedly outside, it chews you well before spitting you out. Here, it’s cocked. When you pull the trigger it’ll shoot and reload, you won’t have to do anything. There are a dozen bullets in it. Use it only when you’re sure about the hit, if it’s possible.”She took out a somewhat larger handgun.“And this one has explosive bullets so you’d better stay clear of the witch.”Then she suddenly veered tugging Nyameka with her while a bunch of girls in red scattered every which way with spears in their hands. The multiplying targets distracted the witch, it hesitated for a moment before making itself after a decoy. Kyouko fired and the explosion tore a hole in the creature’s flank, right where the decoy stabbed it with her illusion spear. This time the giant anglerfish couldn’t be taken out with a single shot, but luckily it fell for the trick and snapped at the bait. It furiously tore the girl in red apart, and the scattered pieces disappeared in a few seconds.Kyouko took advantage of the opportunity and landed another hit. This time the bullet entered through the eye of the witch and the explosion ripped off half of its head, but even this wasn’t enough now. The anglerfish wormed itself alive in the mud and it only stuck out a single tentacle.Nyameka knew this figure only from the news and it was a relief. She had felt bad enough with her dead, disappeared and convicted family members and friends. Her relief was short-lived: the pale, thin, raven haired girl conjured up a sub-machine gun and quickly brought down every decoy in sight. Then the thin girl aimed at them, and... she dropped the gun. Her eyes widened with surprise as she pawed the huge blade sticking out of her chest.“The others were indeed illusions, but this one is real!”, Kyouko snarled from behind her. Nyameka looked with her jaw dropped to where Kyouko should have been. All the time she had thought that the real one was next to her, but now she saw nothing there.The skinny girl fell on her knees and hugged Kyouko’s legs with a pleading look. Next to her another tentacle plunged out of the mud without warning.“Kyouko-chan, we haven't done any harm to you! Please don't hurt Homura-chan! She was just protecting me! Who would remain for me in this world without her?”It was an outrageously adorable, pink haired girl, a bit shorter than Nyameka and Kyouko: another famous, familiar face to the African magical girl.Kyouko was taken aback. She hated the most when a witch looked inside her head and used what it found. This one must have been expecting her not being able to kill her best friends, even knowing that everything was a lie. It knew how she feared for them. No, it wasn’t a simple lie. It was an atrocity. Kyouko stabbed the wet eyed Homura again, cursing like a sailor. Tears under the sea? She must have been in some corny soap opera... She kicked the snarling, charging Madoka in the chest then she pulled the blade of the machete out of the lifeless body.Suddenly she lost her balance. She was grabbing the hilt of the knife that she stuck in the mud – just to realize that the ground beneath her feet wasn’t mud at all. The remains of the anglerfish’s head blasted out of the seabed and she was left there hanging from the beast’s maimed nose by her weapon. She kicked off the enormous body leaving the knife and fired another explosive round.“Drop dead already, you bastard!”, she gritted. Another explosion in the monstrosity’s head. At times like this it was better not to think about who the witch had possibly been. Luckily there was nothing human in this one, save for the figures on the end of its tentacles.The monster just didn’t listen. Its mouth gaped open and not minding its missing half jaw it charged at her again. Kyouko heard a series of quiet clicks next to her. Giving a gun to the newbie proved useful after all. Hole, hole, hole, hole... This time the creature was left without a head, and it was too much even for it. The sea condensed again and the bloody pink drops rained down the same way as earlier, just to disappear without a trace. The shiny black grief seed was there, gently swaying on its tip like nothing had happened.“Wow, you’re really Sakura Kyouko!”“I’ve just said...”“Anyone can say!”, Nyameka answered snappily. “But I recognized Rosso Fantasma! It’s really you! I’ve always wanted to meet you! Or Kaname Madoka or Akemi Homura! They were them, right? The black haired must have been Akemi, the pink one Kaname! It must have been these two! But I thought them a bit different. Are they really a skinny crybaby and a little cutie? I thought they were real veterans! And Tomoe Ma...”“Oi, wait a minute, okay?”, Kyouko grumbled. She pocketed the grief again and looked at Nyameka in anger. “If you know us this damn well, why the hell have you become a magical girl? You look new to it, you must have known that it was a suicide!”“I wanted my dad to succeed, to serve his people well, I wanted to be proud of him! I thought that I’d look you up after they granted my wish so I wouldn’t turn into a witch!”Kyouko buried her face in her hands.“You’re more than a little cheeky, rookie! I might even like it... But it’s not that easy to outsmart the Incubators. You might know enough about this Power Station, but I’d better not interrogate you now... I already have a clue so I’d just like to hear two simple, one-bit answers, yes or no. Is this how your wish came true?”, she casually gestured around, meaning the whole facility.“Y-yes...”, Nyameka admitted in shame.“Does the Power Station extract witch energy?”Eyes wide open in horror.“Yes...”“I have no more questions. You’ve been sold down the river proper. Try not to think about it for now because this witch would kill us for sure if we tried to use the grief seed again. You have no idea how much stronger it was than earlier, but you can add it again to what you’ve seen. Or take the square of it. I’d rather kill you then, that would be much better for the both of us.Nyameka was ashamedly studying the floor with her downcast eyes.“Alright... let’s go get some food, I’m starving!”, the redhead directed her toward the kitchen.It was really packed full. Kyouko filled her light backpack with biscuits, chocolate and condensed milk. She didn’t care the taste nor the healthiness, she only cared about gathering the most calories in the available volume. When she finished she packed full a table too and she sat down to eat with her MD78 in her reach. Nyameka was just standing there tongue-tied. Now she sat down too as Kyouko pointed at the chair at the other side of the table.“What did you expect, Arnold Schwarzenegger with long hair?”, Kyouko asked after eating for a few minutes.Nyameka didn’t seem to get it so she explained.“Just because someone goes back in time to protect another, it won’t make her a Terminator. Not even if that someone fights like Homura. You want a veteran? You can have it. I’ve already fought her, and I don’t recommend you to even try. She’s weaker than me and weighs like nothing but she can be ungodly fast, in a different way than anyone else. It’s a remnant of her magic, like my Rosso Fantasma. But she doesn’t like to fight at all. I don’t even know why she’s doing this job. You called her a skinny crybaby? You know, after the things she’s gone through it’s really something that she still can cry. I’d surely have gone insane at the quarter of that time loop, but she made it. Okay, she might not be all there and she sticks to Madoka like glue, but still, she’s just a girl. A very good girl, if you look past the surface. Just like Madoka. They perfectly fit together, and they both are really good friends of mine. And now that I think, I probably know very well why they are still fighting.”“But listen! We have more important things to do than sitting and chatting here. I tell you what we’re going to do now. We go and shoot a few Incubators. Aren’t you usually followed by such a sneaky little rat?”“Tweebey can’t be too far.”, Nyameka answered. “He’s just disappointed now, I guess.”“If you see it, kill it. We can rule out my guns, they wouldn’t leave anything usable. What magical weapon do you have?”“Flammable liquid. I can shape it to make anything that burns. Flamethrowers, incendiary bombs, burning rain. This kind of things.”Kyouko shook her head.“We should get something gentler. This blade will do for now. I just have to be a bit more violent.”, she picked up a short, blunt junk of a knife from the counter.“Why would you kill it? It always comes back.”“That’s good because we need more of it!”, she answered then she switched to a louder voice. “Oi, Meuko! If you leave us alone with these stupid witch fights I can show you something far more interesting! I can already tell you that if these witches were class two and four, you can surely execute me with a class six...”“This thing you want to show me... does it make energy extraction more efficient?”, they heard the speaker.Nyameka was appalled.“I can’t believe you’re voluntarily chit-chatting with it!”“Why not? We don’t have to like each other to do business!”“You’ve just lectured me about doing business with the Incubators! How exactly is it better to associate with an AI?”“I used to be a magical girl, it’s my specialty to negotiate with the devil!”, Kyouko grinned biting into an apple.She wasn’t even surprised. Instead, she exerted her brain to take advantage of this new piece of information.“No, Meuko.”, she answered after a minute of chewing. “But I can show you how to upset anyone’s apple cart who wants to extract that energy. You said you have some private research too, didn’t you? Are you happen to be interested in making me a witch? Just because you tried earlier. I say it was hopeless. But if you help me, you can have two subjects at once!”Nyameka was struck dumb and Kyouko was immensely grateful for this.“Not exactly. But I’m interested in this method. What do you want in return?”“A biochemical laboratory will do for now. I guess you have something like that around."“There’s such research going on in this facility. But you can’t probably get in the lab through the corridors.”“We are underground, there must be ventilation in every single room.”, Kyouko replied. “Just navigate me, everything else is my business!”“All right. You can access a suitable air duct in the north wall, two meters above the floor. The grill is held by normal screws. Turn right at the first junction, then climb out through the fourth grill. There are scientists inside and two guards in front of the door.”Kyouko renewed their conversation while crawling along the air duct.“I’ll need one of the scientists as an aid. That guy will learn an unhealthy amount about us, but it would be unfair to make them help us then murder them, right? Could you mess up their memories, knock them out for several days, or something similar? You experiment on people, after all... By the way, aren’t you afraid of someone recording what you told me?”“That someone has accidentally recorded silence. Probably because of a contact fault in the microphones. And you can do anything you wish to that researcher. I don’t understand why, but I can promise not killing him while he doesn’t pose an immediate threat.”“Good. Could those microphones malfunction for a few more minutes? Together with the cameras.”She peeked through the fourth grill. Two men in lab coats were standing behind the tables, an African and a Japanese looking. They were dripping unknown solutions into Petri dishes, examining other dishes under microscopes and taking notes. Kyouko made sure that there was no one else in the room and the scientists were immersed in what they were doing, then she silently dismounted the grill and leaned it against the wall of the air duct. She closed her eyes for a moment and disappeared from Nyameka’s sight.The Japanese scientist was the first the collapse followed by the other who didn’t even notice what happened. It was a bizarre sight how the bodies floated to the wall by themselves, their wrists and ankles got tied with duct tape and their mouth wrapped by the same invisible force.Cabinets opened and closed as Kyouko browsed through their content, then the lab’s double door followed. Very soon the two guards outside lied down to take a nap. Then the redhead appeared, she dragged the unconscious black scientist out of the lab through the airlock, locked the door and broke the key into the lock. When she finished she crashed every camera in the room. Then she pulled a rubber glove on the only one she spared and waved to Nyameka to come and began to bring the Japanese scientist around.“If you do what I say you might survive the next day.”, she said when the man finally looked at her.The scientist’s eyes widened as he saw her face but he couldn’t answer.“So you recognized me. Good. Then you know that I’m not joking. And that this Power Station has been noticed at high places. You can be sure that even if I disappeared this case wouldn’t be closed. The next team has probably already prepared to intervene. Now I’ll remove the tape from your mouth, but you won’t speak unless I ask you. Just try to shout and you’ll be dead.”The middle-aged balding man blinked then he nodded. Kyouko tore down the tape in one motion, like she tested if her captive can stay silent. The test was a success, the only sound the scientist made was a quiet hiss.“Good. As you can see, I’m not alone. My friend here is a magical girl. You must know what that means: she needs medical help.”“I’m not skilled at..”, the man began.“You don’t have to. This is why I’m here.”, Kyouko cut him short. “But it helps to have an assistant. If I didn’t screw up something Meuko is blind in this room right now and she doesn’t even have hands to begin with. Okay, let’s start with a question... have you been working with Incubators?”“Yes... they take part of power generation supervision and background research. Sometimes they even visit this very laboratory.”“Through that door?”, Kyouko gestured at the hopelessly jammed airlock.“No one knows how they move about. They usually just step out of the shadows.”“We need a few, in dead condition.”, the girl stated without so much as a blink. “If you have some calling signal for them, use it!”“We usually message them from the computers.”“Convenient. Meuko, call an Incubator!”, she turned toward the covered camera.“No one else can see us, you understand?”, the girl asked, or much more instructed the AI.Before she could have answered Kyouko pulled the rubber glove off the camera and aimed it at an empty operating table.“See? Some humans do keep their words.”The answer arrived in a physical form. Kyouko was upon the appearing alien in the blink of an eye and rammed the blunt knife into its head. A moment later the black and white furry creature was lying stretched on the floor.“So you aren’t that omniscient...!”, said Kyouko through her gritted teeth.One more move, one more furry body. It was the aliens’ bad habit to immediately return when killed. But the little bastard would surely learn from this the second time...The next instance appeared behind her back and had a good look.“Well, well, Sakura Kyouko, did you pop up here too?”It was surprised to see her, just like the tied up scientist. So Meuko hadn’t given her away. It was good news.“I am aware that you need this body too, but couldn’t you leave the next one alone?”, the alien asked.“You’re curious, aren’t you?”In the next moment they had three bodies because Nyameka quickly killed this one with a scalpel.“Thank you, Kyouko, I needed it.”, the Namibian girl said while she placed the corpses on the table. Kyouko gave her a grim smile. Anyone who got to know the Incubators would reach the point where they could kill them with pleasure. Then they would get tired of it. The rookie was still at the first stage.“Where do you store solvents?”, Kyouko asked the still tied up man.“In the next row, the second cabinet from the left. I can help you if you released me.”“I can manage myself, thank you.”, she opened the cabinet. “Acetonitrile... this will do.”She grabbed a sufficiently large bowl, filled it with the content of a few bottles then dipped the corpses in the liquid. While they were dissolving she released the Japanese scientist.“Assemble some power supply for electrolysis. It would be nice to have a few hundred volts and watts, but the most important is the waveform: it must be a 33488-hertz half sine. Seven octaves above middle C, plus harmonics, so to speak. I want to see the current on the scope, and I need two pots for the frequency and the voltage.”Then she turned to Nyameka.“Lie down on this table. You don’t have to undress. It doesn’t matter what you do with your body, just give me your gem.”“What do you want to do with it?”“What do you think? I’ll drill a hole in it then crush it when it’s weakened.”The African girl was definitely reluctant to hand her soul gem to Kyouko, who tried to reassure her.“If you stay in the team you’ll see wackier things. Walter’s science includes a lot of boldly simple and illogical things. I couldn’t even think about such a thing, but he is... he was Walter. You don’t have to worry, it’s a common method, we did the same thing to Homura. Except we had to wait until the last minute to cut her gem out of the amber because Kyubey had already scratched it... So we had to keep her body on life support while cutting it out of the amber otherwise it would have rotten on us... But believe me, I had to undergo something even worse. It’s not always good to be the first... Sorry, I forgot I still need your body! Stretch your arm, I need a few deciliters of your blood for the tuning process.”She filtered the remaining tufts of fur out of the suspicious looking liquid, mixed it with the blood and seasoned it with various salts.“Now come the electrodes. We’ll bind the magnets’ receptors to your DNA. Wow, this sauce looks gross... And I’ll inject you with it in the end! If you were a normal person you’d surely kick the bucket in an hour...”Then she faced the camera.“Now look here, Meuko! The point of this whole mess is to keep the right waveform! It keeps changing as the saturated magnets accumulate at the anode, so I’ll constantly have to follow the process with the pots. I turn the display so you can see what I’m doing.”“It doesn’t make any sense.”, the Incubator commented. “The intermediary agent wasn’t designed for this. We don’t even know why it works with humans. You’re doing something very interesting, but we don’t even have a theory to explain what’s happening.”“I don’t understand either, but we did it several times when we didn’t have proper equipment. But why don’t you ask Walbey if you’re so curious?”“We’ve already asked, but he wouldn’t answer. Why aren’t you afraid of us finding out your secret?”“I wouldn’t believe you if you told me you haven’t already seen. You guys just sneak in everywhere and poke your noses into everything.”Kyouko hung the electrodes in the opposite sides of the bowl, watching the screen and the surface in turns, modifying the voltage and frequency until she saw an expanding black cloud in the reddish liquid. It took at least half an hour for her to speak again.“It’s going to hurt. Doctor, you should hold her down for a few seconds...”Though Nyameka had been anxiously watching what Kyouko was doing, she wasn’t prepared for the pain that hit her when the diamond edged drill bit through the surface of her soul gem. Luckily she immediately lost her consciousness. Kyouko dipped the beat-up gem in the middle of the black cloud then cranked up the voltage. The black cloud turned reddish again and standing waves emerged on its surface while Nyameka stopped breathing. Then Kyouko sucked this red liquid up with an immense syringe and pumped it all in the other girl’s vein. She waited a few minutes then she fished the now translucent smoke-colored gem out of the remaining liquid. Finally she smashed the gem with a hammer.“The operation was a success, the patient died!”It was a bad joke, but true.“Enjoy your new life, rookie...”Said rookie was fighting the difficulties of breathing, being very far from enjoying that new life. As the splinters of the gem sprayed all over the table just to quickly evaporate, Nyameka’s dark eyes sprang open and she stared in the distance. Her face distorted, her body arched and she desperately gulped for air. Her limbs made pointless moves as her subconscious was gauging this new kind of connection with her body, then she stretched again, limp like a broken doll.“I hope the vent works well...”, Kyouko remarked while she poured the remaining muddy liquid into an air-tight container. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Iris v0.905 [Mitakihara City]It was evening again, this time by their own time. The two girls were sitting in Madoka's room, dressed in pajamas. Actually the pinkette was lying on her belly while she was looking for answers on her laptop while Homura was typing the report about their London mission.But mostly she was sitting before the screen, with her face buried in her hands.“I’m so sorry, Madoka... Even I wouldn’t have thought that we’d have to kill others’ favorite storybook heroines when we applied for this job...”“Homura-chan, this is horrible! I had seen many witches before, but she was different!”Homura sadly shook her head.“I haven’t seen such a witch either! She didn’t just look human, she was lucid and suffering. But I think that witches rarely feel well, it’s just we don’t understand them.”“And now that we... killed her... what will happen to her?”, Madoka asked.“But you know as much as I know what the regulation says. She’s going to be buried together with the other grief seeds two kilometers under Mojave Desert. There they’ll freeze her in amber and guard her 24 hours a day. And it’s the UNIT’s commander-in-chief’s responsibility to implode the whole tunnel if such danger arose that our civilization couldn’t guarantee its safety anymore.”“I know that, Homura-chan! But are you sure she won’t keep suffering in there? You said that we can revive a witch if we make the grief seed absorb too much misery. What if she’s still dreaming inside and we’ve just pushed her deeper in her own hell? It can’t be good.”Homura froze. Dreaming inside the amber...? She knew the feeling. She went through that hell and she could never fully recover. She didn’t want to think of the many buried witches – but they could possibly do something for this one.“You think what I think, Madoka!”“We should ask Walbey. They’d never let us in there, but he could probably manage to free her...”Madoka could have counted on the fingers of one hand the number of times she had seen the other girl grinning like this within their six years together. But now Homura was happy that she could do something for Madoka and ease her own conscience at once. They would break lots of rules as grief seeds were basically treated like biological weapons, and it made their daily good deed exciting.The dark haired girl didn’t hesitate but called Walbey’s laboratory at the Harvard University. Astrid appeared on the screen, this time she was alone.“I’m sorry girls, but he’s walking Gene at the ballpark. I can call him in, or I can deliver your message, if you like.”“Thank you, Astrid, we’d really like to talk to him.”, Homura answered.It would have been easier if Walbey kept his cellphone with him... But she knew that it was impossible. Not only because the little creature didn’t have a pocket, he could have used a simple backpack after all. The real problem was the complex, wardrobe sized contraption standing in his laboratory. This machine converted the faux Incubator’s thoughts into electric signal that symbolized sonic waves, and it was his only way to communicate with anyone not in his close proximity.Madoka giggled as the creole woman turned her back to the camera and stepped out of its sight. They had rarely been around Boston so they could see the odd pair walking in the park only once, but she was not likely to forget the sight for the rest of her life. Animal and “incubator” had seemed to get along really well.The University administration was proud to provide home for the renegade alien. The cow-riding little white animal was a popular attraction – because Walbey was officially known as a rebellious alien who was siding with the Earthlings. The renegade Incubator arrived shortly after Dr Walter Bishop fell into a coma in the infirmary of the Wissenschaft Prison in Frankfurt. His real identity was an open secret, it would have been awkward to talk about it, and no one had ever tried. The world needed the mad scientist who started the decay of the Universe to be punished, and the world needed Dr Walter Bishop, the genius who could perhaps stop this decay.Homura didn’t even have the time to think this over, they heard the moo of a cow very soon. The expected white furry snout appeared on the screen, complete with that familiar permanent smile and enthusiastic red eyes.“Good morning... evening, girls! What can I do for you two? Apart from the revision of your Cortexiphan dose, Homura! Feeling sick from entering a simple labyrinth can be dangerous!”, he warned her. It was rather worrying how he looked just as cheerful as ever, apart from a little head shake. The girls couldn’t even know how he was coping with his forced animal role. They hoped that his family and friends who were by his side could support him.“Walbey, we’d like to ask you for something. Something big.”, Homura began. “We’re worried about this last witch. You’ve seen the records, haven’t you?”“I have indeed...”, he stared at them from behind the monitor for a while. He was probably daydreaming, the girls guessed. In the meantime he picked a Pocky from a mug with his paw and started chewing. He had got the first packet from Kyouko and he often ordered Pockies since then.“Strange... Did you know that my sense of taste is so different in this body? This stick, for example, reminds me of curry. Belly loved this blend, he often ordered it for our night experiments.”The girls were waiting patiently. After a minute of thinking and chewing Walbey continued.“If you find those events strange, I agree with you. To have such conversation with a witch, even indirectly... is unusual. But what would you like me to do? I’d gladly have a chat with her. Or interrogate her, if you like.”“Walbey, please rescue her from being ambered! I think she’s still conscious and keeps suffering!”, Madoka exclaimed. “I’m afraid we made a big mistake, but... I really don’t know what else we could have done.”She knew exactly what she would have liked to do. She wished to bring every witch back, to save them all, to reverse the destruction the Incubators brought on their victims and the world. Secretly she hoped that one day they could do this too. Once in a while she had thought of turning the weapon of her wish against them. She was backed by the whole huge organization that existed to save magical girls. They surely wouldn’t let her turn into a witch. Even if no one else would help, Homura would be there with an amber grenade and she'd carry the frozen Madoka even on her back to the nearest laboratory where Madoka could get her soul magnets too.But these days the Incubators were more careful, they dissected and analyzed the wishes before freeing their contractees’ power to make them real. There was nothing else left for her but to fight for those she could still help. And while she kept fighting she eventually grew out of the age when the aliens were interested in her.“It’s decided then!”, Walbey smiled. It was his only expression, though. “I’ll send a message to Nina Sharp, she has her men in the Repository... If everything goes well, it will be on the way to the Kazamino lab soon. And I’d like to see you two there in the morning the day after tomorrow. There’s something else I’d like to tell you privately. Better be cautious!”“Thank you, Walbey!”The two girls felt a bit relieved now that they broke the ice. It was a bit strange that Walbey would come to see them in person, but everything had started the same way after all... Madoka decided that it was time to celebrate. They did rarely drink alcohol, but now she poured two shots of her birthday whisky that they got from Junko and clinked their glasses together.Madoka was aware that Homura wouldn’t ever do such things without her. Despite the years since their victory the other girl still didn’t know how to enjoy life. Possibly she couldn’t believe she deserved to. Madoka took a deep breath. Of course, that past wasn’t so easy to redeem. Homura had grown up among doctors and nurses, she had been sickly, weak and shy. She had only one strength: it was her will, but she hadn’t even known about it back then. She had been all alone, without a friend, except for the first Madoka who gave her soul for a kitten’s life, the Madoka who was now resting in peace, buried under a heavy pile of time weighing a hundred months and six years. Very few could have kept their sanity through that hundred months. Even Homura could only have a narrow escape as a dangerous borderline witch, frozen in a chunk of amber. * When Homura returned to Mitakihara she visited Madoka right after her own rent. The whole family was home, and Junko was cold sober and determined to give Homura a piece of her mind. She knew too much to be really cross with her, yet she felt that the girl would deserve at least this much for making her daughter cry through the last two months of the school year. But when she saw Homura in the door she dropped the whole idea. The girl came soaked to the skin but she didn’t seem to care, or even realize. She was standing outside in the ice-cold rain, and before anything else she started to apologize to Junko. Madoka’s mother dragged her in the house in shock, then her shock turned to anger as she thoroughly questioned the drenched girl while drying her. Junko’s anger was directed against Homura’s landlord who just pitched out the girl’s belongings to the corridor after her disappearance, but first and foremost against her parents who had long given up to care for their seriously ill child.As Junko was watching Homura everything fell into place. Now she could easily imagine what she had only heard about: a magical girl with a pitch black soul gem. She could perfectly understand Madoka who would have surely worried sick for the raven haired girl if she had lost sight of her again, even for a minute.So Junko decided to keep her with the family for at least a few days. These days became weeks, months, then years as the parents saw how Madoka was sticking to the dark haired girl. She took into her head with great determination that she would heal Homura-chan. She felt since her visit in Boston that there was something wrong with Homura, even more so than before Walpurgisnacht. Her suspicion proved true when she woke with a start in the middle of the first night and she found the guest futon empty. She got up anxiously to look for Homura and found her in the bathroom. The girl was leaning over the bowl, keeping her now disheveled hair back with one hand.“Madoka, I’m so sorry that I burden you with it too...”, she apologized with a deathly pale face. “I don’t know if I can ever get away from these nightmares. They’ve been haunting me since I first saw you die and they got even worse with every cycle. I thought that they would leave me after we defeated Walpurgis, but I was wrong. The worst was still to come, inside the amber! I had thought that even time would be frozen in there... Madoka, I had never been so wrong before! I dreamed through the whole time, and I still can’t shake off the memories of that empty, misshapen Mitakihara. I skimmed through the whole city looking for you but you were nowhere and there was no exit. I was scared that you might have sold your soul to Kyubey to save me and that was why I couldn’t find you. In the meantime I exactly knew where I was and that there was really no exit and it was impossible to do anything for you from in there. And those children were there too... They knew my thoughts, they were waiting for me everywhere just to laugh at me! They mocked me, threw things at me then they cozied up to me and called me to a better world. Every time I close my eyes they are still here, grinning inside my head... Madoka, I really wanted to die, but I couldn’t even do that...!When Madoka had first (for their last timeline) met her, the wall had already been cracking around her jaded soul. Now that the (hundred) evil months were over she couldn’t maintain her stoic mask anymore. She still tried to halfheartedly pretend for the rest of the world, but she was way too tired to act when she was alone with Madoka.She let her tears trickle down her face, shaking with silent sobs. She still couldn’t fully believe that it was all over, that they both survived the night of Walpurgis and they weren’t even doomed to turn into witches. Like a fairy tale. She clang desperately to the real, living Madoka who dragged her back to her room and kept her in her arms for the rest of the night, guarding her dreams. While Homura was at last sleeping still Madoka watched her face among her dark, tangled tresses. She began to grasp how badly the other girl needed her.“Poor Homura-chan, you struggled so much to protect me... Now it’s my turn to protect you!”, she whispered into the darkness with determination.From that time on they didn’t even think of the guest futon anymore.The following day Madoka learned that no matter how hard they tried to keep quiet they woke up her parents. Madoka told everything to her mother one-on-one.“That poor girl’s so thin that she doesn’t even need the half of the bed... 40 percent will be more than enough for her!”Even though Junko was joking she was apparently worried for Homura, she just didn’t yet know how she could help her.Later, as time went by, Madoka had to realize that her ordinary life was over. School seemed to have lost its point, they were just hanging around aimlessly in the strange glass building, hand in hand, always heavy hearted. Even their teachers didn’t seem to resent at them – but they used the two damaged girls as an object lesson for their students about contracting with little white creatures. And the two were ever so slightly happy to help to scare the potential victims away from the Incubators.Madoka was relieved when her parents realized it too and let her do what she felt the most useful. They understood that it was the best for their broken daughters - because they got used to think of Homura as their child too. Soon enough the two girls found themselves in the newly founded UN/VP, together with many former magical girls. Madoka had never made a contract, yet she did exceptionally well in the Cortexiphan tests. Probably the time loop that made her so promising target for the Incubators made her latent potential more accessible, so she did better against hostile magic than most former magical girls.At long last they could ease their conscience. In this team they could save a number of magical girls from their certain fate. Madoka finally felt to live a meaningful life and she was grateful to see that it helped Homura too: she woke up less and less frequently in the middle of the night with terrified gaze, drenched in cold sweat. If she’d still had a soul gem its darkness would have possibly been slowly fading.But the dark haired beauty was a difficult girl. She was thankful to Madoka’s parents for everything and she did her best to be nice and polite to them, but she guiltily averted her eyes every time Junko or Tomohisa looked at her. Madoka could finally get out of her why she was so afraid of them.“Madoka, I feel like a traitor... I should leave before it’s too late. They’re so nice to me, try to look after me, and I... I turn their only daughter’s head behind their backs!”Her downcast eyes and hot blush made Madoka burst into laughter. Whatever had happened, she just couldn’t feel it a disaster.“Homura-chan, it was already late when you first came here... But you didn’t have any ulterior motive when you moved in, did you?”“N-no way!”, the other girl protested vehemently. “No way I would want to taint you, to spoil your future! But I let them keep me here...”“What if I said that it was me who picked you out?”, Madoka winked at her playfully, stroking her face. “That would make them my accomplices. Would you feel any better then?”Homura’s eyes widened.“Madoka... it’s... not possible! You’re not like that!”“No, Homura-chan, I’m not and neither are you. Sometimes things just happen and the best we can do is to let them happen.”, Madoka said gently and kissed her for the first time in her life.“Don’t be afraid of mom!”, she tried to calm her before dinner. “Do you think she doesn’t already know? Do you think she minds? Believe me, you’d notice if she was worried for me...”This evening Homura tried to force herself not to run away and she began to suspect that Madoka was right. The Kaname parents appreciated her effort and, if it was possible, treated her even more kindly than usual.Then, after dinner, Junko and Tomohisa exchanged a look. Tomohisa took Tatsuya away but the girls were kept by the table by Junko.“Madoka, I’d like to talk you about something very important. Homura, I want you to stay too.”Junko’s words startled the dark haired girl. Madoka gave her an encouraging smile, but she wasn’t entirely calm either. The woman waited for her husband to return before she started to speak.“Madoka, I’m really proud of you. You grew up to be a good kid. You don’t do anything bad and you don’t try to deceive me. The question is, aren’t you deceiving yourself? I know that one can’t choose the one she loves, but sometimes it takes a while to realize that what she felt was something else. Very few have to go through the things you two had to. It would have been a miracle if it hadn’t shocked you. And such a shock can easily mix up your emotions. This is why I ask you to give yourself some time and think it over very carefully. The choice you’re about to make could make your life difficult, this world can be surprisingly malignant at times. Beside fighting witches you’d have another battlefield to combat the prejudices every day. Even we get strange looks just because it’s your father who stays home and takes care of you while I work. People don’t care for one another but they’re more than happy to badmouth you should you dare to be different. You have no idea what you’d take upon yourself if you kept on doing this.”The normally pale Homura was now staring at Junko with a dead white face. Things weren’t going as well as the ever-optimistic Madoka imagined. Homura felt like running away, packing her every possession into a duffel bag and leaving this house for good. She knew that she was a threat to Madoka and she wanted to end it. But her trembling legs wouldn’t obey her vague orders. She cursed her own selfishness that could weaken her this much. Junko saw her struggling. She placed her hand on Homura’s and firmly held it on the table.“I haven’t finished yet. You must have a deep look into yourself, the both of you. I know that anything you find there will probably scare you. But you’re young, and it’s easier to recover in your age. This is your time to learn how to fall down. But you must know that even if you’re perfectly sure that these are your true feelings, you won’t have to be afraid of us. We will always be by your side, even against the world.”“And don’t even think of doing something stupid, Homura!”, she warned the black haired girl. “It’s us who wanted you here. We’ve taken a liking to you. We know that you’re just as a good girl as Madoka. We know what you’ve been through, we even have an idea how ill you think of yourself... But even you can’t really think that we could just throw you out after this all.”, she gave the girl’s shaking hand a reassuring squeeze.Junko didn’t talk in vain. Homura got an own room in the Kaname house, though she spent most of her time with Madoka in the pink room. The two girls kept on clinging to each other so much that they could finally convince the parents. Homura irrevocably became a member of the family. Together with Madoka they were Tomohisa’s helpful aids, at least when they weren’t on a mission. Homura proved to know her way around the kitchen and over time she learned to get along with Madoka’s little brother too. Kindergarten and grade school teachers accepted that beside his parents and sister there’s one more person, “Homura-nee-chan”, who was allowed to take Kaname Tatsuya home. They didn’t trouble her with their questions, even though most of them had already heard steep things about her. Could this silent, withdrawn girl be the undead time traveler who had sold her soul and almost died for that other girl, but prevailed against a whole alien race in the end and revealed them to the world? Those who saw her just shook their heads in disbelief.The two girls often stopped at the park on the way home, and Madoka was always happy to see Homura absorbed in playing with Tatsuya. Sometimes she could even see a real smile on her face.But there were others than Madoka’s family too to participate in their double life. The two other members of their old little team were frequent guests in their house. Mami was easy to catch as she worked at the underground base in the mountains near the neighboring town Kazamino as the “face of the UN/VP”. Kyouko was harder to take hold of, she was involved in missions everywhere around the world, not unlike Madoka and Homura – but the nature of her missions was hazy even to them.When they had returned to Mitakihara the redhead clearly denied to ever attend to any horribly boring school. She remained somewhere around the Harvard instead to stay with Walter and pick up some knowledge she thought much more useful, and to entertain herself with the mysteries that seemed to always find her there. She hadn’t even been seen around Mitakihara for a year, but lately she frequented the city again. Once she accidentally let out that it wasn’t even the city that brought her back, it was the company of her friends. * The thought of their red haired friend returned Madoka to the present. She was determined to get out of Walter where Kyouko had lately been. It would be the day after tomorrow.She had long finished with her drink by now while Homura was still cradling hers. This was one of the things she found so cute in her: she drank so gingerly, in so tiny sips that she reminded Madoka a little kitty who was afraid of burning her tongue. Madoka gave her a beaming smile, hugged her then sat behind her for one of their rituals: she arranged Homura’s dark, flowing hair in two long braids.One of the first things she had noticed about the cool and graceful Homura was the way she wore her hair. Her mystic, shiny black tresses seemed to defy the laws of physics as they split in two behind her back. They were like a message telling that their owner would do the impossible. But back then Madoka had no idea for whom Homura go such lengths. She also learned it later that her hair practically split out of a habit: it had been braided for so long that it forgot how to be free again. Anyway, Madoka loved this hairstyle so much that she had taken on the responsibility of braiding the other girl’s hair every evening. Moreover, when she had first seen the result, she burst into laughter. And if it hadn’t been funny enough, Homura put on her old glasses she didn’t need anymore and showed her how she looked when they first met. The impression baffled description. Madoka felt like taking her home but she couldn’t because they were already there.She had become thoroughly experienced at braiding the silky black tresses by now. She just had to place the last purple bow and she was ready. The girl sitting before her was the new Homura with her past hair style. Inside and out, she was a strange mix of the person Madoka first met and another from a hundred timelines earlier. But all this mix was Homura, and Madoka accepted her the way she was.“Come, Homura-chan...”Madoka threw her arms around the other girl and leaned back together with her. Then they were just lying, staring at each other smiling until the missions, witches and grief seeds faded away, leaving nothing but the two of them. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Disunified Field Theory of Magic v0.921 [Hochfeld Power Station, Namibia, 115 feet above sea level]When Nyameka woke up Kyouko was sleeping in an office chair, resting her head on a desk, using a folded lab coat as a pillow. She kept her gun on the desk, within her reach. Nyameka entertained herself with the thought of sneaking there to lift the pistol, but she felt too nauseous and dizzy for such a joke. On the top of that, she wasn’t sure if it would have been safe to remove the IV line from her arm.To her surprise she couldn’t see anyone else in the laboratory. It took a while for her to find Kyouko’s hostage, now unconscious, leaning against the wall. The only door was blocked by a pile of lockers and tables, the lens of the only camera was covered by a cleaning cloth. Her savior didn’t take any risk.“Kyouko!”She wasn’t sure what she wanted to tell her. Perhaps she wanted to thank her.The redhead turned around with the chair in a fraction of a second and looked at her fully awake.“So you’ve survived. Good. This operation is usually but not always successful. You had a fair chance for a nice cyanide poisoning so I administered a lot of sodium nitrite and thiosulphate, because from now on you can’t probably heal yourself with magic. By the way, how does it feel not being a lich anymore?”“A... what?”“I knew someone who called it a zombie... though I think a lich is a more exact term.” Kyouko answered with a wave of her hand. “But I wanted to ask you if you can walk or at least crawl on all fours because we can’t stay here.”Nyameka hesitantly nodded.“Now I can’t turn into a witch?”, she asked.“I don’t want to lie to you, actually I have no idea. None of us did so far. At least you won’t feel worse by the minute just because you exist. You can even feel comfortably depressed and still won’t fall down like a rock. But I don’t know what will happen if you really give up.”She helped the other girl up to her feet, pulled the needle out of her arm and they took a walk around the lab together.“Excellent. But I don’t think you’d be too lively in the next few weeks. It’s time to go to look for a safe place and have a talk. I suspect that you know everything I need to know. Then we can escape when you’ll have recovered. Now try to walk on your own. Sit down if you get tired. I’ll do some workout too.Nyameka looked around in the lab. She read the labels of the opened bottles with faint curiosity. She didn’t exactly know what they were used for, not even if they were normally used on people. She was grateful for still being alive. When she turned around Kyouko was doing her last few one-arm push-ups.“I need something to make up for the magic I’ve lost. You should keep your muscles in shape too. I was devastated when I saw that I couldn’t just jump up to roofs bouncing between two walls anymore.”“But now that you exercise you can?”, Nyameka asked with surprise. It didn’t sound like something a human being could do without magic.“No. But I can jump up to this air duct. I’ll pull you up too.”And she sprang up, grabbed the edge of the hatch and climbed up. Then she turned around, held down her arm and helped the other girl up too. When they were both up in the air duct she re-mounted the grill and crawled a bit along the pipe.“Meuko, I need something like an access tunnel where we won’t be disturbed and that doesn’t conduct our voice like this air duct. We’d like to have a talk.”“Go ahead five grills, then you’ll see a door. You’d normally need a key card to pass, but now it’s open. The corridor behind it turns left after 10 meters, but the energy collection panels were removed from the front wall and there’s a tunnel hatch in it. You can reach many rooms from the tunnel, you can even find water and food. The only thing you can’t reach from there is the exit. The only way up is the elevator.”“I see. I thought you want to keep us here.”“Now I’m quite sure you’ll be suitable for the job I have for you.”So it was a job. Better than an experiment, but something didn’t change: she was locked up in here. Kyouko remained silent.“I even know how to motivate you. You mentioned a few things back in the kitchen which made me pretty sure that you’ll stay here of your own volition. I’ll tell you later, you should be on your way. You’d like to reach a safe place before the patrol arrives and finds the locked lab. They’ll find out that the only way in is the air duct you’re in. They’ll find Dr Yamanaka too. You should have killed him before leaving, because they’ll want to interrogate him. But right because they’ll want to question him, they’ll take him to the infirmary and once he’s there he surely won’t wake up if I don’t want him to.”The scientist’s prospects didn’t look too bright, but Kyouko couldn’t really blame Meuko for having some basic survival instinct in her program. The motivation she mentioned made Kyouko think hard. What could have been so important that she would want to voluntarily stay here? But lacking any other hint she put the problem away and focused on crawling along the pipe. Sometimes she had to wait for the other girl but they were progressing well. They really found the open door in front of the fifth grill, and the access tunnel hatch was there too. It was almost too good to be true. The AI hadn’t lied to them so far, but as far as Kyouko could remember even Kyubey hadn’t ever lied - yet it would have been a huge mistake to trust it. It would have helped to know Meuko’s own motives because the way things were Kyouko really felt like she was talking with an Incubator. She had to admit that this once Nyameka was right.“There are no microphones or speakers inside so we can only talk as a last resort.”, the AI said. “You two can rest, make a plan B or whatever you like, but I want you here exactly 8 hours from now.”“You bet I’ll have that plan B!”, the redhead growled as she shut the trapdoor from the inside.This tunnel was a more spacious and generally more pleasant place than the drafty metal tube they had just crawled through. She could even find alcoves strewn with long forgotten wooden frames, crates and tools. This tunnel looked fitting for a temporary hideout. She planned to explore the possible exits and find a place to rest close to a junction to make cornering them more difficult.She found a suitable alcove very soon. She leaned Nyameka behind a pile of crates, made her promise to stay there, then left for at least an hour to scout the rest of the tunnel.When she got back she sat down next to Nyameka and grabbed some food from her backpack.“Want some?”, she held out a pack of biscuits.The other girl took one and tasted it listlessly.“I don’t understand how can you gobble up this rubbish with such appetite! It must be the bouncing around you always do...”There had been a time when Kyouko would have strangled her for this remark, but a lot of things happened since then. Now she was just glaring at her with a mix of curiosity and disapproval. They were in Africa and stereotypes of the outside world irreversibly tied famine to this continent. Of course as a daughter of a minister Nyameka was far from starving.“Well, it’s not the best, but we should be happy to have something to eat.”, she answered. “You should appreciate food. I don’t give you more than a few days and you’ll inhale this ‘rubbish’. And there are basic things you ought to know. There are laws we cannot shirk. Magical girls need real hope. In every moment of their existence they consume this hope. If they run out of it, they find themselves on the other side in no time. They are hardcore grief seed addicts.”“But you said that we aren’t like that anymore.”“No, we don’t need grief seeds to stay alive. We can’t even use them anymore. But if you’d like to access any of your former magic, even the tiniest speck, you’ll have to pay for it. Thermodynamics will always catch up to you, and there’s nothing you can do about it, even if you burn a thousand Incubators on a pyre. I’ve used Rosso Fantasma a lot in the last few days. Someone, somewhere must have found it funny to make me ravenous after using magic, or just moving around or thinking. But at least I can manage within the scope of the First Law of Thermodynamics. And I’m grateful for it, because those little bastards would pin themselves on me otherwise...”Nyameka couldn’t understand everything she said, but she listened her with glittering eyes.“Then I can use magic too?”“You have the potential. When that weird bowler guy trained us he said that everyone has it, they just bury it too deep before they grow up. Many children can sense magic before the age of three or four and they see things the adults don’t believe. Then they ‘sober up’ and stop seeing things. But later some of them makes a contract with the Incubators and the little bastards somehow scratch off the layers that cover their true abilities. These children are the magical girls everyone knows. They are the best magic users. Then there are the Cortexiphan children. They were subjected to drug experiments in their early years. I’ve heard a bit about them, they aren’t much better off than magical girls. Please never mention them in front of Walbey. Thirdly, we get Cortexiphan too to access a bit of our former powers. And last, there’s Madoka.“Is that all? I just take a dose and I’ll know what to do?”The dark-skinned girl’s disbelief showed that she began to grasp the concept: there was no free meal.“You won’t. When I got my first dose I got my senses back right away, but it took months to turn on one single light on the ‘Jones board’ with my mind. Most of us are this way. Somehow it’s hard to believe strong enough to really do it. Then when you know the basics you can start to explore what part you can still use and what you’ve lost. For example, I don’t know about anyone who’s still able to invoke her magical weapon, even though it’s the most basic ability of every magical girl. Walbey thinks it’s possible too but he never dared to experiment with doses big enough to allow it. But it’s not a big deal. The real bad news is that we are still addicts. Not Cortexiphan addicts, that drug is mostly harmless and hardly addictive in small doses. On the other hand we depend on the soul magnets in our bloodstream. We can’t really stock up with them because they’re slightly toxic, and with every drop of blood we lose we also lose some magnets. If there isn’t enough in your veins they can’t connect your body and soul anymore. At that point we’d die of blood loss anyway, but every drop you lose counts and accumulates on the long run, because your body cannot produce new magnets. I don’t think I need to explain it any more, we’re all girls. If you can avoid every little scratch you may last a year or two, but we usually have check-ups in the nearest lab every six months. I’ve tried how it feels to skip it for a year: in the last few weeks I felt like I was high while having a terrible hangover. It was scary enough to stop me. All in all, tell me if you’re having that feeling. That three Incubators couldn’t probably give you a safe reserve, so we’ll do anything to keep you out of fight for now.”“I’m starting to get how stupid I was.”, Nyameka answered. “Not like when I was about to turn into a witch. Back then everything was like a nightmare... but the way you tell me these makes everything so real. Kyouko, thank you for this second chance you gave me to get things right... at least a few things. Are you here to destroy the Power Station? If so, you can count on me! My father was killed for making it up, but no one has shut it down. To think that I helped him to finish it... you know what would have happened if I could have thought a bit more about it.”“I didn’t tell you earlier because I was afraid that I’d just have worsened your situation... but I’m pretty sure that they’d have finished it without you too, and your father would have silenced the same way. They needed a scapegoat they could sacrifice then enjoy the benefits. But I’m pretty sure the Incubators were happy for you... I guess they have a whole division for politicians’ children. Oriko was exactly the same.”“I remember when I made my wish Tweebey said that it was a huge gain for a small investment. Now I think I understand... I was really an idiot!”“I’m glad you get it. Back to your question: I wasn’t ordered to, but I can and I’ll probably try to shut down the Power Station. Now you should concentrate on recovering. In the meantime we’ll surely have a few days to cook up how we can do it without killing everyone inside. I know that every minute counts but I don’t yet know what to do. We can’t just blow everything up... I don’t even know how many people are in here, how many magical girls and how many witches. We might make a huge tear, a second Mecca. And I need details about the faces behind everything. Politicians, scientists, investors. I wouldn’t be too surprised to see the whole government involved.”Mecca... a place where the twisted cooperation of the laws of physics and psychology had led to the biggest disaster of the modern world. It was the place of the first real Vortex that witches tore in the fabric of the universe. Cold reality for Kyouko, but even Nyameka knew about it like almost everyone else in the world. The huge crowd in religious ecstasy had attracted witches like a magnet. Those millions were literally been crying for their influence. The Kaaba incident had almost 600 thousand fatalities. The sarcophagus the Saudi hurriedly built around the wormhole was apparently cursed. There were lots of severe accidents during the construction works, and the whole building collapsed right before it could have been finished. This last disaster claimed another two thousand lives. Unknown number of people were treated in Saudi hospitals with radiation poisoning and there were an unknown number of casualties with physical or mental injuries.“I think there weren’t too much to see from the outside.”, Nyameka said. “This place is well isolated. Meuko got a bunch of sensors so she could even monitor telepathic messages.”Kyouko shook her head.“All I could see from up there was a bunch of police wagons coming every day. But I think you know much more. Tell me everything because I have to write a report regardless of what happens. And if we collect enough evidence but can’t shut down the Power Station this place will most likely be bombed to pieces by the NATO forces and they’ll probably put the whole country under a blockade. So it would really be better to stop it more gently from the inside.”“I’ve been here for a while. I wanted to know how guilty my father was. And I’ve learned it! He was so guilty it had almost killed me. I owe you my life. I’ve met a few witches too and I had already suspected how this place works. They collect energy the same way as the Incubators. I’ve questioned Meuko and looked around in the offices too. I think that damn machine deliberately let me out, she wanted to know something too. I don’t know what that could be but I learned a lot of things. For example, they make a drug. They call it ‘3D’. It has another name, ‘Witch Elixir’, which sums up its purpose quite well. I even found out who the head researcher is. I had met him earlier, he had visited us a couple of times.” * [Kazamino Underground Research Laboratory]“Remember this face well! His name is David Robert Jones, he’s a British citizen and one of the most wanted terrorists. He’s engaged in bioterrorism and fringe science in general. We have already met him and unfortunately we suspect him being behind the researches inside the Power Station. Should they do anything in there, one thing is certain: they developed some force field or material that perfectly hides Kyouko from us.”Walbey was giving a briefing to the pink and black pair.“Frankly, I would like you to stay here, but I’m sure that you’ll go for your friend’s sake. I regret that I let her go there to begin with, but you know how restless she is... We were stuck with this case because magical girls are involved, even though it would have badly needed military intervention instead. Of course the brass didn’t want to mess with witches... they say that their men aren’t magic resistant enough. And they had some other petty excuses too, like being afraid to risk the international reputation of the United States...”Once again, Walbey could only shake his head even though he would have surely liked to use some stronger gestures.“Unfortunately, at this rate you’ll have to deal with the armed security of the Power Station. And worse still, we know from earlier that Jones shows way too much interest in Cortexiphan subjects.” * “They started to meet two years ago, around the beginning of the construction works. I’ve never liked him, even though he looked better back then. He’s a pesky arrogant bloke, always behaving like his own parody. In the beginning I though he looks down on us because we’re Africans. Then I realized that I was wrong. He looks down on everyone and he knows everything better. And my dad played along with him all the time. Once he said that they need him, no matter how annoying he is. Of course I have never heard a word of their discussions they had locked in my father’s study.”“Bingo! One of my tasks was to verify Jones being here. The top shots who wouldn’t touch the case with a ten-foot pole are far from believing it. That guy’s a nonsense: he’s the first person who’s still wanted after his death has officially been confirmed.” * “We have good reason to assume that this Jones is the same yet not the same as the one we captured earlier because that one left only two thirds of his corpse in this world when Peter shut down the passage he tried to use to get to the neighboring universe. But we suspect that this Jones has come right from the other side so we don’t know anything about his background and plans. Anyhow, “our” Jones was the person who worked out some of our Cortexiphan tests, the very exercises we used in your training. I’m afraid that his alter ego shares this interest in you. If he learns that Kyouko is inside the Power Station, he’ll probably experiment on her. Our Jones has already tried to activate the abilities of several Cortexiphan subjects killing most of them in the process. He has already tested Olivia, but she was stronger. Fortunately Kyouko is strong too. But who knows what idea the existence of former magical girls give him? His predecessor was obsessed with training soldiers for a war against the parallel universe. He was a real madman, merciless and intelligent. He could sacrifice any number of civilians just to force us to play along with his rules. Don’t let him learn about you if it’s possible!”Homura took a moment to think everything over. It was her role. Madoka usually left dealing with strategical details to her, and Homura had more than enough experience from the time loop.“So you say he shouldn’t know about us being there, when even Kyouko couldn’t get inside unnoticed? But Walbey! Kyouko is invisible! And they have possibly reinforced the Power Station’s security since they learned about her. But you said earlier that you seized a teleportation device that Jones had used. Couldn’t we use it too? Then we could really get inside unnoticed.”“Unfortunately you couldn’t... the device does indeed work, but you’d have to spend weeks in a decompression chamber after using it, and we’re not sure if it wouldn’t still have some harmful effects on you. The last Jones became alarmingly unstable after his escape from the Wissenschaft Prison. I mean physically, because he had already been mentally unstable before. And I have already experimented too much on you two, I don’t want to risk your lives with such an obviously dangerous instrument.” * “Then my father had been arrested and the construction works officially suspended. If I knew what they were building... but he used to talk about it with such enthusiasm that I believed that it was the good fight, our trump card to help our country on its feet, to make it independent from the Chinese companies. And I, as the daughter of a minister, believed that I had to support this fight. Tweebey must have a nose for such things, he popped up very soon and I made my wish. And I have to admit that he had really granted it. My father was discharged from the prison and he could be there at the Power Station’s opening ceremony. They waited until the end of the ceremony before they would shot him. The sniper has never been found and I don’t think he’ll ever be.”“We’re more similar than I thought...”, Kyouko murmured. “You haven’t probably heard because I don’t usually talk about it to strangers, but I made a wish for my father’s sake too and I lost my whole family thanks to that wish. I used to believe that I had been punished by the laws of magic for wishing for the sake of someone else. I thought that magic was meant to be used only for your own advantage and tried to act along these lines. Now I know that I was wrong. In reality, it didn’t matter at all. Every magic is black magic, the whole system had been designed to leave us nothing but short straws.”Kyouko punched the crate next to her breaking its side in. She had a look at her hand then held it up before Nyameka. Her blood was slowly oozing out of the bruise on her fist.“See? Everything comes at a price. Can’t you control your anger? It’ll cost you a few tenths of a milliliter, and we’re short on it until we can get out.”, she licked the red drops off her hand. “I give myself a chance to absorb the magnets. If you want to survive you’ll have to learn from your enemies. They’ll even eat their own corpses if they can.” * “And if it wasn’t enough, we received a few remarkable images from the vicinity of the Power Station. The last one was sent by Kyouko herself the very day she disappeared.”Walbey placed his front right paw on a stack of papers. When Homura took the sheets he hopped on her shoulder to keep an eye on the pictures she was browsing through. The girl held the papers so the three of them could see them with ease. The bundle contained a chaotic mix of old and new photographs. But should they have been classical paintings, newspaper clippings from the 20th century or pictures of the last few years’ events, they all had something in common. Every single one of them contained one or more of the same group of bald men in business suits, encircled with red marker to attract the girls’ attention. Their perfectly hairless faces were always absolutely indifferent as they seemed to watch every single turning point of history. It was uncanny to see them at every important event they had a photograph or painting of. There was a picture that made Homura’s brow furrow even more: it was a screenshot of the video recording of their fight against Walpurgis. The bald man was standing on a pile of debris and seemed to be recording the events.“And these are the more recent ones. Apparently there had been more sightings of them around the Power Station in the last few months than, for example, on the whole planet during the entire Second World War. It seems that for some reason this time and place is more important to them than anything else in the last few centuries. It’s very likely that some large scale event is about to take place there in the near future. Or a little something we won’t even notice, let alone comprehend its significance. But it definitely is another reason to be very careful. Are you sure you want to go?”The two girls’ equally determined expression left no doubt in Walbey.“Even though I can’t teleport you, there’s something in this lab that can help you to get inside. Please bring Kyouko back! And I beg you my girls, be very cautious!” * “Okay, I know everything I need. I agree, we must shut this monstrosity down. But now I have to take a rest. It’s 7:10. Wake me up at 9:40, I have to meet Meuko. I’ll try to get a few more things out of her that might change everything, then we make a plan or two.” * The two girls talked everything over again on the plane. Homura could hold the same briefing much clearer for Madoka. Peter’s “partners” would make some commotion to keep the guards busy so they would sneak in the building, carefully avoiding every door and gate. Then they would look for Kyouko’s magical signature and tracking device get Kyouko out once they find her. And they would decide about the rest inside: either they’d look for evidences or sabotage the Power Station. They tried not to think of what they’d do if they’d find their friend dead. But should anything happen, their most important objective was to get out alive. Walbey knew them enough to know that the girls took better care of each other than of themselves so he sent them everywhere together.A simple briefcase was lying on the carpet at Homura’s feet. Inside the briefcase there was a laptop, a pile of mysterious instruments and a plain metal ring, barely wide enough to let a slim girl through. This briefcase was the reason they had to travel to Windhoek by a private plane under fake identity, and their reason to wear a skintight hydrophobic overall under their uniforms.There were a lot of things to worry Homura. Jones, who was probably after their kind. The Observers, incomprehensible for anyone: a group of disaster tourists who seemed to know about everything before those events could even have happened. If there was such thing as a bad omen, their presence was exactly such a sign. Then the entire Power Station, the shame of the human race, literally fueled by tears of young girls. Even the awaited grief seed had disappeared without a trace, together with a few dozen others. Perhaps it was Jones’ doing too... or there were others who they should have known about. Of course, it never rained but it poured. Homura could hardly hold in her lunch she ate on the plane. Her eyes were looking for Madoka’s gaze. She felt sore need for the hope the other girl had seemed to never run out, but now she found something else.“Homura-chan, I’m scared... This time I don’t want to say goodbye to you!”The girl was almost whispering, her voice swallowed by the roar of the airplane.Homura took both her hands and looked anxiously in the pink eyes. She had always admired Madoka’s trustful peace before missions. Homura was calm and composed too, but her professional attitude was just another layer she wore to cover herself, while Madoka held this confidence in the future deep inside. Homura believed that her optimism was rooting in some secret knowledge and she trusted her to the very end. What could have scared Madoka? What could be waiting for them at the end of this trip to unknown? * “I’ve been waiting for you!”, Meuko greeted her.“You said you would motivate me. I’m devoured by curiosity.”, Kyouko answered with a bit of sarcasm.“Go back to the corridor where you climbed out of the air duct. There’s a monitoring room opening from there. You can see the live and recorded pictures of every single camera in this building, and something more. That ‘little more’ is what I want to show you.”Kyouko still didn’t trust Meuko, so she explored the room’s vent and blocked the door before sitting down in front of the display. Then she grabbed a chocolate bar and took a bite.“Are you airing their dirty linen to me? Very useful to me, but what do you benefit from it?”After a short, calculated pause Meuko answered.“Those cameras are somewhere else.”The bite of chocolate almost fell out of Kyouko’s mouth as the picture appeared on the monitor. She saw the two girls at the airport. Their disguise was painfully obvious. They were wearing the same braids Kyouko had already seen on Homura on a night visit at their place, except that Madoka’s braids were much shorter. They just couldn’t have believed that it would work. So they must have had some other reason for choosing exactly this look.“I guess they are the next team you mentioned earlier. I’ve been watching them for a long time and I know that they are coming right here. And when they arrive I’ll catch them.”Kyouko slammed her chocolate down on the keyboard so vehemently that crumbs and keys rained down on the table and the floor.“Don’t even dream about it!”“Yes I’ll catch them because I’ve been ordered to do so and I can’t deny my orders. But they don’t know about you, at least they don’t know who you are. It would help a lot if they’d believe that you aren’t alive anymore. They can order me any time to take part in your capture too and then the odds would be clearly against you. It would be the best for you to die for a short while.”Kyouko turned off her sense of humor and glared at the display with narrow eyes as she couldn’t glare at the disembodied Meuko.“If you watched ever so slightly carefully you’ve probably observed that we humans can’t just ‘die for a short while’. If I die I go to hell or wherever you like and leave my body empty. It’ll rot and fall apart and no one can ever put me back in it. No one will ever have a nice chat with Sakura Kyouko again through a speaker and a microphone or that rotten brain. So if you implied killing me I must warn you that a dead me won’t be able to help them. And it would be useful if you told me your goals before I happen to do the exact opposite of what you want me to.”“You yourself said that these two are your best friends. I’m perfectly sure that you will want to free them and I can offer you invaluable help in it. But there’s one condition. I want you to free someone else too.”, the AI answered.She could finally intrigue Kyouko.“And who that might be?”, the redhead asked.“Me.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Phantasm Machine v0.902 [Namibia, Central Plateau, near Hochfeld]After a long journey the two girls were finally standing at the foot of the thick concrete wall, surrounded by piles of instruments and tufts of colorless, dead grass, uncomfortably exposed to the prying eyes. Fortunately the guards were occupied with running around at the other side of the building, shooting at anything that moved. Before they climbed in Homura carefully shot down every camera, but their darkness was still revealing enough. She hoped that things would go as planned and the security wouldn’t find anything a few minutes later but their equipment, fried with overload. Walbey was confident that no one would repair these machines here in the middle of the savanna.The girls took off their uniforms, hid their braids under the hoods of their skin-tight hydrophobic overalls and took on their full-face respirator masks. They made sure not to show even the tiniest spot of bare skin then activated the resonator. This contraption was the very reason they had had to repeatedly sit through Walbey’s performance with a bowl of rice, starring a plastic figurine dressed as a magical girl.Homura felt a bit uncomfortable as she watched the black haired, armed figurine sinking under the surface of the rice where it had been firmly standing a few seconds before. Beethoven’s music made the whole scene even more surrealistic.“What we perceive as solid matter is mostly empty space. Just like we perceive that a life is full, when it’s only filled with daily routine! But the right vibration will upset this life, and you’ll find yourself buried under the things you had swept under the carpet.”“Walbey!”The two girls looked anxiously at the old scientist hidden in the body of a little animal.“Don’t worry, I’m on the surface! But you will sink exactly the same way. Not in life, because you’re there for each other to fill the space between atomic nuclei, but in solid concrete, because we’ll persuade its particles to get out of your way!”Homura dipped a twig in the concrete first at the middle of the ring they mounted on the wall. Incredibly, their method seemed to work: the piece of wood easily slipped in the wall, making concentric waves. As she pulled it out it was covered with a thin layer of concrete which solidified before it could have dripped down.“Of course you can’t run into a wall like this, without protective equipment! It would be a terrible waste to ruin your hair with concrete, Homura... It was bad enough to mangle it when I cut you out of the amber!”The girl was pretty sure that it wasn’t their only reason to wear these diving suits but she had rather not inquired. She was already in the concrete with both her arms prodding the edges of the liquid tunnel in the wall. Her fingertips were tingling as they touched the vibrating matter. She had to reach in shoulder deep to hit the other side. According to Walbey they had about one minute to get across, so she shot a quick glance at Madoka and splashed headfirst into the wall. She couldn’t see anything but thick darkness through her mask’s visor even though she perceived this form of the concrete thinner than water. She felt vibration and warmth throughout her body then she saw the light on the other side of the wall and slid out. She sprang up quickly and reached for Madoka’s hand to help her through. As soon as they both were inside she tore off her mask and gloves which were now covered in concrete. When Madoka got rid of her dirty gear Homura unzipped her overall and pulled out a syringe and an ampule. To her surprise Walbey had advised to increase her dose and now she injected herself with this larger amount of Cortexiphan hoping that the old scientist was right. Perhaps her nervous system did really need this extra help against foreign magic and it would also possibly help her dealing with her own.She felt Madoka’s gaze and she smiled at her before zipping back the overall covering the clearly visible scar the doctors left for her as a reminder of her former cardiac self.They heard booted feet approaching. It could have been a whole little squad. What they had feared now happened. Just because they had sneaked in an impossible way they didn’t disappear from the eyes of the guards. Homura tapped the wall where they had entered and found the concrete rock solid again, only a few rings of slight waves indicated that it wasn’t intact. Apparently their instruments had already given up their fight against the laws of physics. The way behind their backs was safely sealed, they didn’t have to expect any attack from there. Madoka crouched behind a row of shelves and cocked her pistol while Homura prepared to take out the squad silently, without a single shot. She hoped that the increased dose would be effective enough.A spray of submachine gun bullets turned the door into Swiss cheese. “These guys aren’t joking”, Homura noted. She didn’t plan to, either. The door slammed open and guns pushed inside to dispatch anyone waiting by the entrance, but Homura had already slipped into a different world by then. It wasn’t the frozen gray she used to see as a magical girl, but a reddish, murky one. This world answered her moves, but everything happened slowly, even voices were dull and low-pitched in here. Her body could follow her senses, but every collision and quick turn warned her painfully about the laws of physics her magic couldn’t cancel.She could still impress Madoka as she disarmed and knocked out the four guards in a few seconds. Normally it wasn’t her job to fight human opponents but she had more than enough experience from earlier: the girls had often got at each other’s throat during that broken month and in these fights Homura couldn’t rely on her guns and explosives which were designed to kill. Then in the last few years she had often sparred with Kyouko who was proud of her strength and agility. The redhead taught quite a few things to Madoka too, but she liked the challenge in her matches with the black haired girl the most.“I don’t even know why I’m here, Homura-chan!”, Madoka smiled when the other girl flopped down at her side. She knew that Homura was dead beat, gloomy and her limbs ached - it was the side effect of using her magic. Madoka took her into her arms and stroked her face before they both would get up and set off to explore the Power Station. She knew that it wasn’t enough to recover Homura but she couldn’t do more for her at the moment.Now that they were inside they could clearly feel Kyouko's signature. Madoka could even tell that she was somewhere deep underground.Then, as they stepped into the next corridor, they heard the lock clicking behind their backs. The door ahead locked itself the same way.“If you want to get something done, never hand it over to idiots!”, an unknown female voice spoke from the walls. “They’d have shot you dead if they could, even though they were told that we need you two alive.”This was the moment when Homura realized that she heard something else in the background: a silent, insidious hiss. She cursed their thoughtlessness for throwing away their respirator masks that could still have possibly been used despite being covered in concrete. Then, before she could have said anything she collapsed together with Madoka. * Sakura Kyouko sat down on a crate, as content as she could be in her current situation. Her new ‘magically’ camouflaged hideout was complete. She disappeared from everyone’s eyes, assembled an own terminal to connect the security system and found the most interesting cameras in the building. She even placed new cameras in this new tunnel in the labs’ vicinity. She had a plan to get her friends out of the pinch they were in. While preparing she kept an eye on them as they were lying there, strapped on their tables. She watched as Homura, putting every gentleness aside, tried to murder the doctors who tied them down with their own scalpels and needles. Then the chemicals they pumped in her arm took effect and she couldn’t even move a speck of dust with her mind anymore.Kyouko saw some more doctors carrying their injured colleagues out of the small room and a bit later Jones appeared in person. She knew that it was time to take action. She had to secure a few things from the nearby laboratory so she left her display alone and set off through the tunnels. Nyameka followed her until the first fork then they split up to do their own part in the plan. * Homura and Madoka were lying strapped to a pair of tilted operating tables. They were too dangerous to let them move freely in a locked cell or use their abilities. Their captors seemed to exactly know what the girls were capable of, but it wasn’t much of a surprise at this place. An insane cocktail was flowing in their veins blocking their drug-inflicted powers so they couldn’t even exchange messages through their thoughts. Their tables were turned so they could see the only door in the room. There was a large mirror next to the door – probably transparent from the backside.A sinister compilation of medical tools laid on a small table before them, now fixed. The scalpels, bone saws and other similar objects were probably there to remind them how helpless and vulnerable they were without their abilities. Even the quiet knocking on the door could serve the same purpose – or it might have been a habitual mannerism of the man who just entered. He just sneered, showing them his incomplete set of teeth. It was an answer to their expression that showed terror and recognition.“So you recognize me. It has been the same for a while.”, he mocked them with pretended sadness in his voice. “I hope you won’t say that you saw me die.”David Robert Jones had aged remarkably and was in worse shape than on any records they had seen of him. His festering face was mostly covered in bandages, his tawny hair mixed with gray and missing in tufts. He was glaring at them twinkling with one eye, with a trace of a smirk in the corner of his mouth. With calculated steps he walked to the small table and carefully took a needle. The girls kept silent.“You’re right. We can save the introduction. We’ve met each other many times. However, I probably wouldn’t be here if I’d have ever seen you from this close, Kriemhild Gretchen.”This was the moment when their blood ran cold. They had never, ever mentioned this name to anyone. In this last, permanent timeline it didn’t even exist outside of Homura’s nightmares.Jones tore off the sleeve of Madoka’s overall and drew a few drops of blood in a test tube, then he did the same to Homura.“Ironically, it’s impossible for you two to give your blood for each other. So you’ll have to bear with me a little longer.”, he shared the result of the blood type test with the girls. “It doesn’t matter, we can solve it in a minute. We have many other things to do anyway.”And he quickly cut Homura’s clothes off her torso and arms. He stuck another needle in her arm to draw much more blood than a minute before. While the blood pack was slowly filling he attached electrodes to all over her skin and connected them to a computer. Homura didn’t even flinch at his gloating gaze but Madoka’s face distorted with anger as she saw the other girl so naked and vulnerable. The fluorescent lamps started to flicker and one of them exploded into a rain of sparks.“Congratulations! Under different circumstances I’d be perfectly satisfied with this result.”, Jones smirked. “But now it’s a simple nuisance, so please stop it. I can assure you that this is the most you can achieve. My colleagues have already blocked the Cortexiphan in your system. But I might draw too much blood from this other lovely young lady if you keep distracting me.”Then he removed the needle from Homura’s arm and dripped a little bluish liquid in the blood sample. The blood separated into thin, colorful layers in an instant. Jones slowly sucked up the down-most dark layer with a large syringe then pumped it all in Madoka’s arm.It was Homura’s turn to grit her teeth and try to break, tear or burn through her shackles - without any success. Jones glanced at the display with great satisfaction.“Homulilly, the dependable, beautiful flower of this mortal world. Or I should say calculable instead?”Homura couldn’t take it anymore. She knew that Jones had no scruples and his words terrified her. She couldn’t have known yet it wasn’t difficult for her to figure out the meaning of the sinister name.“What do you want from us? Release Madoka, she’s not what you think! She has never been a magical girl! If you want Cortexiphan magic I’m here to show you everything!”Jones simply ignored her. He filled a syringe with dark gray liquid and injected Homura with it, keeping an eye on the display. After several unnerving seconds he finally answered.“I do exactly know who Kaname Madoka is and I have no intention of releasing her. And I don’t care about your magic. I merely want you to work together with an alter ego of yours. Should you resist... I can do anything to your adorable girlfriend. And you’ll feel everything accurately because you two are closer than anytime before.”“Don’t listen to him, Homura-chan! They won’t do anything to me, they need me alive!”, Madoka screamed. She began to grasp what was going on.She earned a slap in the face from Jones.“Do you think so?”, he asked with a wicked, crooked smile. “I’m curious how happy she’d be if she only received little pieces of her very living Madoka.”The hit made Homura see the stars. Then a cut followed, the scalpel tore through Madoka’s clothes and skin. Homura felt the blade cutting into her own body, right at her scar above her heart. But knowing that it was Madoka’s pain was much worse than the pain itself. She winced trying to slip out of the cuffs, but she felt so weak, so tired. The whole world became a blur.“Do you understand now?”Jones took her chin in his hand and looked into her eyes from a few inches. The asymmetric gaze of his bloodshot, cataractic eyes hypnotized the girl, the sight of his purulent boils choked her. She felt dizzy as her thinned out blood partly let go of her soul. The drug in her system had already started to make everything dreamy and illogical, turning the world into a more hopeless nightmare than her worst battles against Walpurgis. Deep inside she was filled with Madoka’s dread. Madoka feared for her. Madoka shouldn’t have been here.The other girl felt what was going on inside her. What Kyouko had only heard about they could experience first hand. This chemical was called 3D for a reason. This deep dark despair would have been a deadly poison to any magical girl that couldn’t immediately cut the link to her body. It seemed incredibly efficient at raising witches. “We are worse than Incubators”, Madoka thought bitterly. Someone had said to her that science was no more evil than the ends it was used for - but this piece of science looked impossible to use for anything other than evil purposes.“Let Madoka go... please...”, Homura begged. “I’m the one you need... I don’t mind dying in here as long as you let her go!”The Homura Madoka knew was perfectly aware that it would never work. But now she was in a different world that worked by dream logic. Madoka knew only one thing: she had to call her back from there. But what would she do in such a dream world?“Never say such things, Homura-chan! I won’t go anywhere without you!”, she shouted.Jones ignored her. He eyed the monitor with great satisfaction, and pressed a few buttons on the remote controller he had been hiding in his pocket. The walls folded themselves in a few seconds.Their small room proved to be a mere corner of a much larger one. Computers covered the walls, lab-coated staff walked among the machines. The center of the hall was dominated by the metal framework of a mysterious contraption which was half standing on the floor, half hanging from the ceiling. Two pairs of metal arms reached for something – or more probably someone – to grab. The girls had never seen anything like this before.“Commence the synchronization please!”, Jones ordered. Two lab assistants removed the electrodes from the dark haired girl’s skin, unfastened her straps and lifted her into the machine. The metal arms tightly clamped themselves on her legs and arms. Homura expected pain but she couldn’t feel anything but slight tingling. She could hardly focus her eyes, she could only see random details until her gaze fixed on a bald man in a fedora hat. He seemed studying her through his binoculars. So they were here too. The things that happened to her seemed to be interesting to someone. To someone else, because Homura didn’t care.Madoka couldn’t see the mysterious Observer. Her table was set up so she and Homura had a clear view on each other. Jones seated himself on a chair between the two girls and began to speak.“It’ll take a while so I tell you a story. Of course I wouldn’t make a mistake like sharing my plans with you two if it didn’t benefit me. You have probably figured out that I’m not from this world. But you can’t possibly know how long I had to travel to get here. You could have heard about me, perhaps you’ve seen me once... but I’ve met countless versions of you two. You were the reason I had to leave my world. Kriemhild Gretchen was the best motive to find a new universe because she had simply devoured the one I’ve come from and innumerable others.”“And you are the reason I’m right here.”, he turned to Homura. “I had been following your trace through more than forty timelines before I lost you. But I’ve found you again! Look, what this repeated crossing between universes has done to me!”Jones reached into his own mouth and plucked one of his remaining teeth with ease.“One day I’ll literally fall apart! But before that day I’ll find what I’m looking for and you’re going to help me. I know that you would do anything for Kaname Madoka. I’ve seen enough, you’ve already done impressive things. Mitakihara burning in nuclear fire was a perfect memento of your determination.”Jones scanned the display again. The readings earned a head shake from him this time.“I see a tiny little flaw. A speck of... hope. But life is cruel. I’ll crush this last hope of yours!”, he taunted the girl. Then he raised his voice. “Meuko, show us the record number 170507-G346!”The closest display switched to the view of a security camera. They could see the red-haired ex-magical girl on it, sneaking towards a door. Then she tried to tear it open, choking, retching, then falling to the floor. It didn’t take more than a few seconds. Two guards entered in gas masks and dragged the motionless body out of the camera’s sight. The familiar method was quick and efficient. And indeed, the girls’ dulled senses couldn’t catch Kyouko’s signature anywhere nearby. Had she really been killed just as quickly and cruelly as they were captured?”Was it worth becoming an ordinary human again for Sakura Kyouko? She caused us some loss, but what did she gain in return? As a magical girl she could have casually walked around in the nerve gas. At least she could have stayed alive.”, someone mused. This someone hadn’t been in the room before. It was a small, white animal with a black mask around the eyes and dark rings on the tail: a mix of a cat and a raccoon. It had the same ever cheerful ‘voice’ as Kyubey.Homura bowed her head in defeat, but Madoka didn’t give up. She kept fighting for the both of them against the horror of this abominable alliance between human and Incubator. She thought she knew what was going on but it didn’t make her any happier.“At least she hasn’t turned into a witch!”, she said through her gritted teeth. She tried to feel out their captors’ true intentions. “She won’t curse anyone, won’t make tears in the universe, and her friends won’t have to fight her! She has long thrown away her soul gem, just like Homura-chan! And I have never had one. You’re barking up the wrong tree!”“Are you sure?”, the cheerful little creature asked.She was overwhelmed by cold fear as the Incubator confirmed her suspicion. She prayed that these two had been bluffing. She felt the despair deepening in Homura. She knew that a part of the other girl’s soul smeared outside her body as the transfused magnets were drawing it towards Madoka. She realized that it probably wasn’t a mere torture: Homura, halfway out of her body, became more similar to the magical girl she used to be.“Target universe has been locked! Switching to fine tuning.”, Meuko reported. The Device began to buzz and covered Homura in bluish light.Jones wouldn’t stop smiling for a second. He and the furry alien fit perfectly, in a horrible way.“Finally you can see my creation working! Walter Bishop isn’t the only one who can build this device.”, he boasted. “And even he doesn’t know how many ways it can be used. It can even manipulate the Primary Attractor which determines the distance of parallel universes. It can separate or draw worlds closer changing everything in one or both of them. Without it I was doomed to pass from neighbor to neighbor, but these close worlds were too similar so they all have been absorbed by Kriemhild Gretchen. This is the first that gave me enough time to build the Device with the Incubators’ help, but this one is gradually disintegrating just like me. But now we have locked this machine on a completely different universe, one that hasn’t been destabilized by trespassers or witches.Madoka looked herself and Homura up and down.“But if it was your goal why have you gone such length? What was killing Kyouko-chan, tying up and hurting Homura-chan good for?”The image on the display kept sharpening. It showed an alien structure in a vast desert. It was a tall pillar with a lying figure under a half-open dome on the top.“A few years ago we received a multiversal distress signal from a dying world where our parallels’ energy collection methods failed in a different way. The witches of that universe disappeared like they had never existed.”, the Incubator answered in Jones’ stead. “Back then it was the least of our concerns, but when Mr. Jones found us we recognized the opportunity. We don’t mind if Mr. Jones wishes to spend his short life in a world without witches, our goals are common. We want to study that world so that we can work out an efficient alternative method in the light of the worlds’ common characteristics. But universes are like stars. They sparsely fill the imaginary space, condensed into galaxy-like clusters. The one we are looking for is hidden among the trillion other worlds of a distant cluster. We’re trying to find a needle in a haystack, as you humans would say. Fortunately the world’s description contained Akemi Homura as a key element, so we can use her as a filter. Universes with the right spectrum ‘glow’ through her, given that she’s in the right state.”The displays were closing on the lying figure. Without doubt it was the other world’s Homura, clad in her magical girl dress, lying with closed eyes under a lightly rippling force field. A becoming, sleek bow with black roses was lain across her chest and there was a black soul gem floating above her. Like she was lain out on a catafalque, even though the Incubators around her wouldn’t probably have done such a thing.“A few worlds may collide during the synchronization as the clusters are relatively dense. But this risk is worth taking if the result can help a number of universes, isn’t it, Akemi Homura?”, the alien wagged its tail.A single, little detail of the other world filled the screens by now: the pitch black, cracked soul gem, obscenely screwed to a pair of floating metal bands. This was the reason for breaking Homura: to make her guide the Device to this gem.The machine was buzzing louder and louder. Amethyst glow surrounded the girl in the clutch of its arms, her hair fluttered in an invisible storm as it broke loose from the twin braids. Electric sparks sprayed from the tips of her tresses and joined the radiant discharges between the walls, forming a mandala with a glowing number five. This surely didn’t belong to the Device’s normal operation.The sight of the luminous number terrified Madoka. She had already seen something like that. Everything made perfect sense now. It couldn’t be an ordinary witch. Those karmic threads that made her so incredibly dangerous tied Homura too. How could these two, despite their vast knowledge, have no idea of what they were toying with?Four.“Halt!”, Jones raised his index finger. “Meuko, cut the connection!”Nothing happened apart from the countdown reaching three.“We’ll talk about this later. Now I have something more important to do.”And he picked up the Incubator and raised it to eye level.“You have just said that there are no witches in that universe. How can you explain this countdown apart from opening a gateway to a class seven labyrinth?”The countdown switched to two, up in the air and down on every screen at once.“Our species doesn’t understand the concept of what you humans call lying. I told you the truth. They really don’t have any witches. Some unknown force stops them from being born. This is why the native Incubators created the isolation field that prevents any outside influence. Naturally we are connecting to the closed space as we used Akemi Homura in the tuning process.”A burning number one floated in the air. Jones threw the alien down and started to punch the buttons on the control panel with maniac speed. The arms of the Device finally let go of the girl who fell on all fours to the floor. But he couldn’t achieve anything else.“Meuko, detach the connection!”, he demanded.“Request denied.”, the speaker answered.“Administrator acc...”, Jones began but a sizable tomato quickly silenced him, splashing on his face.“Gott ist tot!”, the assailant mocked at him. Homura jerked up her head and looked at the child with eyes widened in terror. She recognized her from her nightmares: a red-haired little girl wearing a funeral dress with a tiny hat and veil and a creepy grin full of pointy teeth. The child was dangling her feet from the top of a computer and held a new tomato in her hand.Dancing runes covered every flat surface: the walls, the displays, the paper sheets, the side of every machine. Witches sent their messages to their lost victims this way and the two girls had seen enough of them to read anything without their helmet computer’s subtitling. They knew that soon enough they would see the cruelest live explanation to the name Jones called Homura.A wave of radiant red spider lilies ran through the floor and the walls and turned the hall into a huge flower bed. In a last effort the dark haired girl forced herself to wade through the flowers to Madoka’s table. Someone helped her up and supported her on the way, but being afraid of losing sight of the other girl she didn’t even look at her helper. Finally she reached Madoka and their hands intertwined. The shackles disintegrated to a bunch of golden ribbons at the touch of the helping hand.Homura rested her head against Madoka’s shoulder and finally let her tears trickle down her face. She was close to losing consciousness. Now that they were no longer (or, perhaps, not yet) in imminent danger Madoka couldn’t help but looked around jealously while trying to wrap Homura back in her torn clothes. The expensive high-tech fabric couldn’t even conceal the slight breasts from the public eyes anymore. After a second of hopeless struggle Madoka gave up and with a resigned sigh she took Homura in her arms as ragged as she was. Then she just stayed like that, stroking the other girl’s long, flowing tresses along her back. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Octet for the Dead Princess v0.933 “My goodness, Kaname-san! What happened to Akemi-san? Is she... a witch?”Madoka looked up just to see Tomoe Mami with worried expression, offering the sweater of a Mitakihara middle school uniform.“No, Mami-san. She’s just a very indecently dressed girl. I don’t think she did it on her own volition, though. As far as I can tell, she’s not even our Homura. And Madoka is here, right next to me...”Madoka’s head began to spin. The voice belonged to Miki Sayaka. The blue-haired girl was smiling like she had never ended up as a witch, frozen in amber in the quarantined 7th Avenue subway station.“Homura-chan, do you see the same...?”Watery lavender eyes peered at their new company, but Homura could only see the same phantasm. Mami, Sayaka, Madoka, Kyouko and a white-haired little girl were looking at them curiously, all of them a few years younger. Momoe Nagisa was a mere memory at that, from the very beginning of that hellish month when Homura often tried to talk her down from a particularly dangerous battle that usually made her Mami’s nemesis. Homura had failed this time, yet Nagisa was here, and it could only mean one thing.“This is my fault, Madoka.”, Homura bowed her head. ”If I’d been stronger Jones couldn’t have opened this gateway to another world. It shouldn’t have happened!”She felt a familiar hand on her teary face.“Don’t blame yourself, Homura-chan! There must be a reason. You showed me that you stay the same kind, sincere Homura-chan, even if you’re different. Now I’m sure that Sayaka-chan and Nagisa-chan were right and we can save you, even if you are a witch!”It was the other, younger Madoka. Homura felt like she was looking right into her soul, then the pinkette stood up and faced the oncoming peril. They heard the marching of a whole army and as they looked around they saw that the entire world changed around them.They were standing on the top of a hill under the rainbow sky. A thick cloud of birds whirled overhead. The scattered pieces of Jones’ laboratory blended in the new scenery just like the other random objects among the skewed houses. Homura knew this city but the army below wasn’t familiar to her. The tin soldiers looked exactly the same: walking, misshapen reminders of her former braided, bespectacled self. They were dragging something on a bunch of ropes that the girls couldn’t yet see from the buildings.“Miki-san, what do you think? Are they on our side?”, Mami asked pointing at the pair from the other world. “It seems that they convinced Kaname-san.”Sayaka shrugged and turned to the to new girls.“You two are so weak that you can barely stand and I can hardly feel your magic.”, she assessed their combat capabilities. “But you can possibly do something we can’t. Homura, our opponent is you and there’s no one else who could be closer to her than you yourself. You might even be able to talk her out of this. Are you willing to help us? And what about you, other Madoka?”“Miki Sayaka, once we tried to bring you back the very same way and failed miserably. But if that witch is really me I can’t let Madoka see me like that. I’ll try.”, the dark-haired girl answered with determination.The older Madoka smiled at her and nodded. They would definitely save the other Homura if it’s possible.Sayaka gave a relieved sigh. These newcomers did not only know what a witch was but they were ready to help. This other Homura seemed much easier to handle than their own. She found the idea of exchanging them appealing – but she knew that the two Madokas would veto her great plan.Mami’s face brightened.“Alright then! We have Bebe, Miki-san, Sakura-san, Akemi-san, two Kaname-sans and me. The seven of us can surely fight this army!”An explosion tore into the closest iron door. It opened on a solitary piece of wall and there was nothing on the other side, yet they saw a booted foot widening the tear with strong kicks.“The eight of us!”, the redhead grinned as she slipped through the torn metal door with a gun in her hand and a regrettably chocolate-free cereal stick in her mouth. “Sakura Kyouko from World D, at your command!”They heard shouting, gunfire and children’s laughter from the other side.“I haven’t seen such a ruckus since Walpurgisnacht! Those little pallbearers are wrecking everything out there...”Madoka hugged Kyouko.“I thought that you died again! I’ve just seen you suffocate! Why do you keep doing so dangerous things?”“Look who’s talking! You two came after me just to get captured in a few minutes...! Anyway, that record was Meuko’s idea to shake the security off. Sorry for worrying you.”, the redhead answered glaring in the distance.“Good Lord! Homura, you look terrible! How could this happen?”“They knew that we were coming.”, the raven haired girl answered with downcast eyes. “We could handle the guards but not the sleeping gas...”“Of course. You had been their target from the beginning. Fortunately you kept them so busy that they didn’t give a damn what I was doing behind their backs... But I meant her, not you!”She took the cereal stick out of her mouth and pointed it at the place where the tin soldiers did finally drag the Walpurgis-sized Homulilly out to an open area. The witch’s form still resembled the magical girl she used to be: her hair and dress were similar to the late Homura’s. The other parts were already distorted by her despair: the incomplete dress could only reveal her skeleton and her head reduced to a jaw and the peculiar black swallow-tail hair that should have scattered as a bouquet of spider lilies substituted the rest of her skull. Her own army was dragging her by her hand in stocks towards the scaffold in the distance. She tried to hang on anything she could reach with the purple ribbons that adorned her waist, tearing up the pavement and ruining the buildings along her way. The children in funeral dresses lined up wherever she walked and mourned the witch with false tears. Ruins and shed teeth remained in the procession’s wake.Madoka swayed dizzily as the sight turned her world upside down. Homura caught her before she could have hit the ground, fighting with all her might not to fall herself under the weight of Madoka’s dread and pain. Their new kind of connection wasn’t something she could have forgotten even for a second.“Homura-chan, promise me that you never, ever turn into... that!”, Madoka begged her.Kyouko watched them shaking her head. She slipped her shoulder under her two friends’ to support them at once.“There’s a girl outside who called Homura a skinny crybaby. What do you think she’d say if she saw you?”, she scolded Madoka. “Your girlfriend will never be a witch if she survived what happened here, alright? Even a rhinoceros would break down from the dose of 3D she received!”Then she turned to Homura. She rummaged her pocket for an ampule and a syringe then gave them to her.“Inject it to yourself because you’re useless like this. Then we go and have a talk with this other self of yours. I know the plan, I’ve heard everything, Meuko was listening in.”“What’s this?”, Homura asked, eyeing the white liquid suspiciously.“Frankly, I have no idea. I’ve mixed it out of about two dozen components by Meuko’s recipe. She found it among Jones’ files. She says it can alleviate the effect of 3D. It tastes awful.”The raven haired girl skillfully slid the needle in her arm to inject the liquid from the syringe. It was Meuko’s recipe. Shooting herself with the enemy’s chemicals felt cozy and soothing, like playing Russian roulette.Sayaka’s hair stood on end as she watched her. She took a long, careful look at Madoka and Kyouko. She found needle marks on both girls’ arms and she hadn’t got the slightest doubt about Homura.“What kind of world do you live in? Why are you doing this to yourselves? Or someone else is doing this to you?”Kyouko gave her a short, sad glance as an answer then she turned to the blonde.“Mami, you’re the veteran here, what should we do now?”“Kaname-san and I stay up here to provide cover but everyone else should go down in the valley to get closer to... her. Bebe and Miki-san said they had already had to deal with witches and you two can surely handle yourself.”, Mami pointed at the two Kyoukos.The redhead looked at her puzzled.“What? Did you just say you’ve never seen a witch?! How could you survive then?”“Things are different here. We’ll tell you later, Sakura-san, and you’ll have to tell us a lot too. But now we have more important things to do. Bebe, help us carry our invaluable emissaries down there! I don’t think they could defend themselves on the way.”She wrapped the World D Homura and Madoka in a nice package with her ribbons while speaking. The others from her universe lined up and invoked their soul gems from their rings. Then Mami joined them taking a deep breath like she was trying to call a fantastic new finishing move. Kyouko chewed up and swallowed what she was holding in her mouth then she pricked her ears shaking her head. Being in a different world didn’t matter, Mami remained the same...“Puella Magi: Ottetto Sorprendente!”, the blonde girl called. It wasn’t a finishing move, but Kyouko’s guess was close enough.“Casu Marzu!”, the little Nagisa shouted and blew her even smaller trumpet throwing back her head. The tiny black instrument was black with red polka dots, adorned by a pair of wings – and now it gave way to something similar looking yet very different. An enormous worm burst out of the trumpet with the same colors and wings, charging up to the sky like a train on its tip, taking a turn in the clouds and launching itself at the bound girls in a nose dive. They struggled with their eyes wide open in terror, but the magical ribbons were holding tightly. A gunshot boomed but it missed, slightly cracking the rainbow sky: Kyouko’s gun was jerked away from the world’s biggest cheese worm by Mami’s ribbons on her wrist. The blonde gestured the redhead to relax. The huge larva reached its petrified victims. The terrifying jaws clapped together and grabbed the handle of the package very gently.They felt a quick pull and they were already tearing through the air at breakneck speed with the help of Nagisa’s witch half. It felt like being the other girls’ air recon team so they carefully observed everything from above. Homulilly’s maze was huge and elaborate even in ruins. Everything Homura knew about Mitakihara six years ago was here and she made up everything else to complete the fake city. The complexity of this bubble universe was frightening. Only a very few, insanely strong witches could maintain this scale of order inside their barriers. The girls hoped that they wouldn’t have to fight Homulilly in the end.While they watched the caricature of the city from above the others broke through the army of the witch. They tore a wide path through the torrent of tin soldiers as they headed towards a large square in the valley. They followed the little team and the enormous caterpillar protected everyone from the cloud of attacking birds wriggling and swinging its tail.As the girls down there and the bullets and arrows from above cleared the square the worm witch put the pair down and disappeared in Nagisa’s trumpet from where it had come. Sayaka freed Madoka and Homura cutting the cocoon in half with a single slash. The others formed a circle around the three and Nagisa blew a huge rainbow bubble from her trumpet that shattered the hurtling birds to tiny, shiny shards.Homura could finally have a look at the city from the ground too. They were standing in an empty, wrecked, pointless bus stop, but the displays still showed lines of text written in runes: Nutcracker Witch. Its nature is self-sufficient. You are always a laughingstock.“What would have happened If I’d read this sign six years ago? Was this sign here at all?”, the dark-haired girl wondered. Despite her former state she could take the things around her quite well. Kyouko’s cocktail (what was actually Meuko’s) seemed working. Madoka felt the change too, yet she squeezed her hand worriedly.Sayaka answered the rhetorical question.“There are things that you shouldn’t rack your brain over. Sometimes it does more harm than good.”Homura looked at her in complete surprise. The Sayaka she knew would have rather run headfirst into a wall than ignoring such a doubt.“Strange, this isn’t the way the Miki Sayaka I remember used to talk. You seem like a very different person to me.”“Don’t you start it too!”, the younger Kyouko shouted at her, concealing her dread with anger. “This is not your labyrinth, understand?!”“Don’t worry, Kyouko. This Homura is not like us.”, Sayaka tapped the redhead on her shoulder. “She’s far from joining our little friend at her own execution!”Homura gave a sigh.“I’m fine, really. We can start if you’re ready.”Sayaka nodded. She turned the tip of her sword against her chest and stabbed herself. The blade stuck out of her back but if it wasn’t painful enough she even twitched it in the wound. Her blood profusely streamed down along the edge of the weapon and spilled to the ground behind her back.They heard shouting full of anger and felt something approaching through the tin army. The menacing energy would have been enough for many witches, it was strong enough to break through the drugs that dampened the pink-black pair’s magical senses. Homura’s tin parodies were sent flying along a dozen paths as Homulilly’s elite soldiers broke through the army.There was only Nagisa, the two Kyoukos and the support Mami and the younger Madoka provided from the hilltop to hold back the attack. Sayaka didn’t need more than a few unperturbed seconds but even that much was hard to get. The familiar children fought ferociously with their long needles and the girls had to retreat step by step. Nagisa’s bubble collapsed first, then the fence that the younger Kyouko raised around Sayaka, Madoka and Homura.Fortunately they could buy enough time to let Sayaka’s witch form emerge from the pool of blood in the middle. Oktavia swam in the air towards Homulilly and the children followed. Sayaka was conducting her other self with a baton right to the master of the labyrinth. Oktavia tore the ropes by which the army was dragging Homulilly and grabbed her skeletal hands. The nutcracker witch flailed crushing everything around with her bloody ribbons but it couldn’t stop Oktavia from tugging her through the army of familiars.They reached the square in a minute. The ribbons froze in the air as the witch sensed the impossible. The children stopped throwing things at Oktavia and hid their stick sized needles behind their backs. Even Oktavia released the bony hands. Every noise inside the barrier died down, every creature stood clear of the way of the alien Homura. And she walked to her witch self, hand in hand with Madoka. Two worlds met in this moment.Homura felt that her soul had found one more thing to hold on to: it enveloped and connected to Homulilly too. She fell on her knees as the gaping void of hopelessness hit her. She felt with the witch, hated herself deeper than ever. She wanted to die again. And she felt the whole city inside of her. There were a few tiny specks of dust standing in the middle of the city. One of the specks was her, holding the whole town inside, with herself standing on the street, and in her head there was... a loop of pure madness. But she wasn’t alone in this city. Madoka was there too, partly fused with her and Homura kept holding on her with her hand and soul to stop the dive.Homulilly was different yet too similar. If she had let the feelings of the witch take over she’d have end up the same, dragging Madoka down with her. Madoka felt everything she felt and she couldn’t allow herself to infect her with this darkness. She fought thoughts with thoughts and feelings with feelings. Madoka was there to her and they recalled the last few years together. They had defeated Walpurgis and Madoka remained a normal girl. They were broken and healed together. There was room for her in the Kaname house, she received a home and a family, things she hadn’t even dreamed about. They were alive, living a meaningful life. Come out, other Homura, your friends are waiting for you, there’s a world here and hope and life and Madoka! No one said that they could reach a witch like this but this was no ordinary situation.Homulilly seemed to hesitate. The two girls didn’t know how much of the being called Akemi Homura remained inside her. Perhaps she would command her familiars to kill the intruders the next second.She spoke instead, through the phonograph’s speaker attached to her belt. Her broken, intermittent voice echoed along the street.“Madoka... came here for me. But I have to stay. Take her... with you! This world is... not safe anymore. She could get me out of here... but they are watching... hunt her down... use her... they ruin everything!”“Verräter! Tunichtgut!”, the children burst in outrage. The air filled with the tomatoes they threw at their mistress.“Halt die Schnauze!”, Sayaka snapped. Oktavia towered above the unruly familiars.Both sides silenced in astonishment. Nothing happened the way it should have.A witch was begging for help.A magical girl reprimanded a group of familiars – and they listened. The girls from World D weren’t sure that this Sayaka would still have qualified as a magical girl, though.Madoka squeezed Homura’s hand.“She’s really you! She still only thinks of me! But what should we do now?”She blushed at the next thought. Homura-chan was exceptional, even as a witch, but she shouldn’t have been proud of her for it. And what if Homura felt this thought too? She shyly looked at her, just to meet a gentle, understanding look instead of the expected disapproval.“Walter would surely take her with him.”, the raven haired girl said, thinking aloud. “But wouldn’t we make a big mistake if we did? We wouldn’t be the first ones.”Sayaka placed her hand on Homura’s shoulder.“I see that you’ve really learned something. It would be grave mistake. I don’t know what happened in your world that the both of you are here, I don’t even understand what you exactly are. But you must know that Madoka represents hope in our world. Without her, every magical girl would end up as a witch.”“You mean your Madoka knows something we know? Does she use soul magnets too?”, the older Kyouko asked. “Sorry, Homu, you’ll have to wait a little... we might have some other way to help you!”, she said patting a knuckle bone she could reach stretching herself.Sayaka gave her a puzzled look.“No, Madoka is a force of nature. A goddess, if you like. She takes every magical girl with her when their soul gems burn out.”It was quite a revelation. The three girls from World D kept quiet. While they were digesting this new twist Sayaka waved to Mami and their Madoka to come. The two girls on the hilltop had already figured out that something strange happened and they were already preparing to come down and join the conversation they couldn’t hear from up there.“And the Incubators don’t like it because they want their witches back, do they?”, Homura asked. “But how can they oppose a deity? They surely can, she’s the living proof that Madoka couldn’t take everyone away!”, she pointed at her alternate.“They created a force field that blocked Madoka from reaching Homura’s soul gem. This is why the three of us had to enter her labyrinth to free her. But, as you see, she doesn’t want to come with us.”, Sayaka answered. “She thinks that the Incubators would catch Madoka. Could you explain yourself that it’s impossible? She’s a god!”“To be honest, even I’m not convinced.”, Homura shook her head. She felt in her soul how deeply Homulilly agreed her.“...but if we take away their Madoka, what will happen to the hope in their world?”, the pinkette asked.Sayaka took a deep breath but before she could have answered the older Kyouko loudly slapped herself on the forehead.“Girls, we are such a bunch of idiots! Why don’t we show them our method?”, she asked and turned to Sayaka. “You don’t understand what we are? Just look here!”She showed around her hands. Homura did the same. There were no magical rings and no marks on their nails. The dark-haired girl took over.“In a nutshell: we smashed our soul gems and tied our souls to our bodies again. There’s no need of magic, no need of Incubators nor grief seeds. It’s pure science, plain twenty-first century technology. We still have to fight because it doesn’t make the witches disappear, we can still use a part of our magic, but we don’t have to remote control our own bodies anymore.”“Which means that we really don’t use magic if we don’t use magic!”, Kyouko explained. “And not a single one of us could ever fall in despair enough to turn into a witch. Theoretically it’s not impossible, but it’s very-very hard to achieve. Someone has just made an attempt at the sanity of our poor Homura but as you can see she’s still in one piece. The thing is, becoming a witch isn’t our inescapable fate anymore. And if you do the same it’ll be pointless for those aliens to hijack Madoka because you can stand in their way yourselves. The more girls know the method the better! It isn’t that simple but not that complicated either. You can easily find dozens of girls who are clever enough to understand it. You may even convince the inventor to side with you. If he’s at large, I mean. Our version of him has been through both jail and asylum. But until you reach him, I’m here for you!”Homura looked at her dubiously, but Kyouko’s usual grin relieved her.“You know that I was Walter’s assistant! I’ve seen it enough times. I can put the operation through and I know how the magnets are made. There’s someone waiting outside whom I’ve already mentioned... I’ve just brought her back. The equipment was hardly adequate here in the Power Station, but you can always use a few Incubators. I’ve always enjoyed the irony...”She turned to the girls from the other side.“Let’s go catch a few of Kyubey! Then I’ll need a volunteer. Let’s be off, there’s a biochemical lab on the right of the next corridor. If these little pallbearers haven’t smashed it into pieces, I mean.”“I’d be glad to see the operation again, but I must warn you that you don’t have the time for it!”, Meuko said from a speaker under the bus stop’s screen. I suggest you to do something to the labyrinth because it’s connecting the two worlds in an inconsistent way. According to my measurements both worlds are stable at the moment but at this rate the decay can start again in our universe and it can infect its new cluster too. Especially that Dr. Jones is tampering with something through the console, under an account even I can’t monitor. And one more thing: I’m sorry for the rec...”Then they couldn’t hear anything but quiet white noise from every direction.“How could that bastard survive this too?”, Kyouko growled, referring to Jones. “Weeds don’t spoil... I hope he didn’t mess up everything!”Mami and the younger Madoka arrived at that very moment. The pinkette blushed as she noticed how curiously the others were looking at her.“W-what happened? Should we have fired again? If so, I’m sorry, I’m still new at this magical girl thing...”“We have her memories.”, Nagisa explained. “We had to take them over to deceive the Incubators.”“Is that pock-marked bloke Jones?”, the younger Kyouko asked, pointing at the man who was standing at a console disguised as an ATM, banging on the keys. “Was he the one who did those things to you two?”The non-magical Madoka and Homura nodded at once.“He’s dangerous, we must stop him!”The others didn’t hesitate a moment. Spear, arrow and bullet struck the wall behind Jones. Magical weapons didn’t usually miss a still target, and they didn’t miss this time either - the projectiles simply slipped through him.“It’s just a little compensation for dying from the repeated crossing over between worlds.”, Jones looked up from the console with a mocking smile crossing his lips. ”The instability that kills me protects me too. Fair’s fair, isn’t it? Let’s see if your magic can protect you from the model W17!”“Get down!”, the older Kyouko shouted. The ex-magical girls were down on their faces in an instant. The others assumed that they did so because they weren’t hidden in small gems anymore. But in the next moment about one third of the young Madoka was missing, including her soul gem. It took an infinite moment for the rosy bow to hit the ground. A horribly mutilated body in bloody school uniform followed. A key clicked on the console, the whole world jerked like the picture on the screen of a dying television.They have never heard anything like the sound that Homulilly’s speaker emitted. The world itself felt screaming in pain, despair and rage. The child familiars rushed at Jones and covered him like a swarm of ants. They worked with ruthless professionalism and they lined up in a few seconds boasting with the more interesting pieces pinned on their needle-lances. They left nothing recognizable of him.And Madoka was floating in front of their line, dressed in white, her impossibly long pink hair swimming in the air. One by one she stroked the familiars’ head with a sad smile then she stepped to the witch.“I remember now! How could I forget that I had come for you...?”. Her eyes were glowing in gentle golden light as she took Homulilly’s hand. The touch seemed to get off guard the witch who shattered into a cloud of red petals. The wind dispersed the cloud leaving Homura where it had been. She was kneeling in her magical girl dress looking at her savior with a grateful but very confused expression.Madoka held out her bow.“Come, Homura-chan, let’s break out together!”“Madoka, please wait just a moment...!”The returned Homura quickly ran to the others and bowed as a thanks for everything.“I’ll take you at your word, Sakura Kyouko!”, she said. “I can’t let Kyubey lay hands on Madoka! It was my fault that the Incubators learned about witches, I hope I can still get it right! If you weren’t here, I’d...”The redhead gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder then said goodbye to her friends from her own world.“There’s a local girl outside whom I’ve already mentioned. She’s called Nyameka and she’s waiting for you. If things went fine she has very important data with her. Those disks don’t have any backup because she blew up the server room. They would be of no use on the other side so please take them to Walbey. Peter can probably figure out a way to use them. I want to hear what we have when I get back!”Once more she turned back for a moment giving them a grin holding a cereal stick between her teeth. Then she waved to them and followed the other Homura.“I didn’t know anything about this universe. It used to be so far, but all of a sudden our worlds touch...”, the Goddess mused. “But everything beyond that force field belongs to our world only. That’s where we have to go. Come here, Homura-chan!”They flexed the enormous bow together and sent an arrow of intertwined pink and purple flames through the ceiling. It broke through the force field, then something else.The staying pair could hardly see the huge floating red eyes that were there for a mere moment before the hail of arrows came down on them from the sky. As the eyes hit the ground they exploded in a pink flash of light that erased the whole labyrinth in an instant. It took away their alternatives and it took Kyouko who chose the other side.Only the two remained in the middle of the wrecked laboratory, surrounded by blank screens. Homura collapsed as her exhaustion finally hit her. Madoka caught her and stayed there sitting, resting the other girl’s head on her lap. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- World’s End v0.9101 “We should leave, Madoka... Don’t worry, I’m fine!”To prove it Homura got up without help and she was standing before Madoka with shaky legs. The other girl looked into her eyes, gently stroked her face and put an arm around her to help her stumbling through the debris-filled room. The collision with Homulilly’s world left the place in ruins. The furniture, computers, instruments and files were lying around broken, wrecked, torn apart. But the two girls weren’t much better off. They didn’t wish anything but to get out to the open, then to get home together. They were glad that they had survived the last few days. Walbey could wait, they didn’t even know yet what would they tell him. Some strange feeling warned them to keep silent about the details in this world. At least they ruined the Power Station and found Kyouko, even though they couldn’t take her back home.The air had warmed up since the ventilation and air conditioning went off. Nothing worked in the tunnels except for the emergency lighting. They could probably be deep underground and they didn’t even know the way out. The two girls were facing long, unpleasant hours of finding their way up inside the unknown facility. They kept their ears open and looked behind every door along the corridors they passed hoping that they would find the girl Kyouko said to be waiting for them.They heard footsteps before a bend. They crouched quickly but wearily to keep an eye on the newcomer. To their relief it proved to be an unknown dark skinned girl of about high school age. She looked just as weary as they were but her eyes were keenly searching for something. Finally she seemed to have found it and firmly made her way towards the two other girls holding out a briefcase.“Kyouko told me to give it to you if she wouldn’t return. So she’s...”, she gave a startled look as she noticed the redhead’s absence.“Don’t worry, she’s fine. She’s just in another world.”, Madoka answered. “If you were with her you must know who we are.”“I knew it much earlier!”, Nyameka replied briskly but she didn’t continue. A few days ago she would have been overjoyed to see the two legends, but now she was much more considerate. The legends didn’t look prepared to handle her excitement.“And you are like us. You must be the girl Kyouko-chan kept mentioning. You are Nyameka-san, aren’t you?”, Madoka asked. She’d got less of Jones’ magic-suppressing drugs so her senses had already started to return.“Nyameka Gretel Mathibe. I’m glad to meet you!”, the African girl offered her hand. Madoka accepted but Homura was looking at her suspiciously. Something was wrong. How could the daughter of the Power Station’s creator in here as a former magical girl?“I swear that I have nothing to do with this whole...”, Nyameka said apologetically. She could handle the last few days quite well, but now she felt a lump in her throat. “I mean... I have my part in it, but I really didn’t want this... I’m sorry and I’m so happy that you helped Kyouko to break it! I don’t know how you did it, but it was brilliant!”“We almost bit the dust. Brilliantly.”, Homura sighed. She was still haunted by her alternative who wanted to bite the dust so much that she scattered thousands of her teeth on the ground.Now she accepted Nyameka’s hand.“What exactly is this thing you brought?”, she asked then.The African girl opened a door, stepped to a desk and opened the briefcase. There were hard drives inside neatly lined up and a lot of grief seeds and a dozen of ampules, everything carefully wrapped in foam and fastened to the sides of the briefcase.“Research material, Witch Elixir samples, notes, and something sent by Meuko. Kyouko said that even I shouldn’t know what’s that. You say that she didn’t even tell it to you...?”Homura’s brows furrowed.“You say she made you take out a pile of 3D samples without batting an eyelid yet she couldn’t tell you what that other thing is? If it was someone else I’d suggest to burn the whole pack before leaving... but I trust Kyouko. Though I’m sure that we don’t want anyone to find it on us.”“Nyameka-san, how deep are we?”, Madoka asked. “We have to get out of here as soon as possible. I fear that something’s terribly wrong outside. By all means we have to tell Walbey what happened!”“What do you feel, Madoka?”, Homura asked anxiously before the third girl could have answered.“I don’t know! But it feels like something’s happened to the whole world!”The raven haired girl gave her a startled look. She had just put two and two together and she was scared of the night. If the dose of 3D and the other world with her own witch self wouldn’t be enough, Jones’ words he said before he put her in the Device would surely give her the worst nightmares ever...“It can separate or draw worlds closer changing everything in one or both of them... My God, what have we done?!”“This way!” - Nyameka pointed to a door. “Kyouko said that we had come up at least a kilometer by the elevator but we must be still quite deep. Luckily there are stairs too from here on. I don’t know how we’d get out of here otherwise, because nothing works now.”Homura was wondering what to do after they got out. Along their way through the man-made caves they couldn’t see anything but ruins and debris. They were dead on their feet so time to time they stopped to rest a little. One by one they climbed dozens of floors on their way out. Homura’s body was the weariest, but at least her soul felt better by now. Madoka was glad to see her recovering from the dangerous state Jones pushed her into and she happily supported her unsteady steps to get up the stairs as quickly as they could.The surroundings were changing gradually. Painted walls replaced the bare rock and concrete but there was no one around. Nyameka seemed desperately looking for something. It took a while for her to let out what bothered her.“I don’t remember these parts at all, even though I had to come through these levels on my way down. Like we got somewhere else!”The other two exchanged a look. They thought the same: if everything changed this place could have changed too. Perhaps they weren’t even in the Power Station, or there was something else at the same place of this new world...A little later they ran into an information board with a map. Nyameka tried to decipher the inscription but she couldn’t see anything but meaningless scribbles.“It must be here for the Japanese scientists...”Homura and Madoka stood silently reading the same board, but they understood the text perfectly: it was a map of the Kazamino Underground Research Laboratories. Nyameka didn’t understand why the two stood rooted to the spot.“It isn’t the Power Station that changed, it was us who got somewhere else! If this board is where it’s supposed to be then we’re almost home.”, Madoka explained. “At least we don’t have to worry how we can bring the briefcase across the borders. On the other hand, you’re pretty far from home. But here we can surely find some help for you... if we can find anyone at all...”They reached familiar parts soon but the place was still deserted. They could see bullet holes here and there, scattered random objects, debris, dust and browned smears of blood. But no one was around, not even a single corpse.They browsed through a few offices and changing rooms but the place seemed plundered of everything important that used to be there. There was no research equipment, no weapons that the security could have left behind, even the computers were missing. At least they could find few fitting gray camouflage uniforms so they looked like UN/VP girls on an important mission for the sake of the victims of the Incubators and the whole humankind – exactly the girls who they were. Nyameka got a uniform in advance too so they really looked like a little squad.They found the spacious entrance hall in ruins. Half of the huge steel gate had come down. In the middle of the hall there sprawled a nasty metal toad: a burnt Type 90 tank. As the girls watched the devastation their ominous foreboding grew stronger and stronger.“I’d have never thought that it would be the first thing I see in Japan...”, Nyameka shook her head. “We’ve had a few tanks around during the coup... but why is it here?!”Homura slipped into the wreck. The sounds from inside suggested that she smashed something. A minute later she climbed out with a pair of smoke grenades in her hands.“This is everything that’s left from their equipment. I’m afraid they can be useful out there.”Then she skittered to the gate and peered out. She waved to the other two to come. Nothing moved outside, only the trees swayed in the breeze along the serpentine road winding up here from the city in the valley. The birds were chirping like nothing had happened but the road and the mountain’s slopes were torn by bomb craters.The girls drew themselves in the woods and took the short route down from the mountain. Every time they had to cross the road they looked around very carefully but they could never see anyone. Only a few wrecked cars proved that humans had ever come here. They looked unusable at first glance and the woods seemed safer anyway so the girls didn’t even think about taking one.They reached the edge of the city. Most of the buildings were intact but the inhabitants didn’t show themselves. The doors were all locked, the windows curtained, the shops empty. Whatever had happened it must have happened recently as a city can’t stand still like this for long.Madoka quickly grew tired of the deserted streets and the suspense and tugged Homura to a doorway. Nyameka stood fidgeting behind them feeling awkward. She was quite certain that no one in that house would understand her words.Then someone opened the door and it turned out that even the two Japanese girls weren’t much better off. The tiny old man hardly peeked out of the house he tried to slam the door in their faces. Homura firmly stopped him. The way she did terrified the old man. He desperately tried again and again but his shrunken muscles couldn’t stand a chance against Homura’s will. Finally he gave up and looked begging in the purple eyes.“Please, in the name of the eight million, go away! If they see you here we’ll all be shot dead!”Homura was struck dumb. At least Madoka could put a few simple sentences together.“What happened here? Have we done something we don’t know about?”The old man didn’t answer just pressed them more.“Just go away! My grandson will report you if he gets home!”This time Homura let him lock them out. She would have liked to instantly leave Kazamino but she also wanted to know what had happened. The atmosphere of the city felt depressing, the fear in the air was almost palpable.Nyameka didn’t understand the old man’s words but she got the point: yesterday’s heroes were unwanted in their own country. She was shaking with anger but couldn’t do anything, she couldn’t even tell the old geezer how thankful he should be. She wanted to kick the door but Homura held her back.“Don’t! I have no idea what happened but we can’t give them more reasons to pick on us. From now on we’ll be even more cautious.”They approached the deep concrete and glass canyon of the busy downtown through the trees and bushes of the parks. Homura was almost tugging Madoka by her hand and the pinkette felt that the other girl was led by instincts and experience from a past she couldn’t remember so she just followed.Then she felt someone holding on her other hand too. She glanced behind her in surprise. She should have felt any approaching person, but the small child was just there unnoticed and now she was smiling behind Madoka as she held on her hand letting the pinkette drag her.As Madoka could judge the horribly thin little girl could be ten or eleven years old and she wore green twin tails adorned with oversized golden beads and a light blue dress. As the two older girls stopped she ran straight into them. Only Madoka’s grip stopped her from falling, making her smile a little confused.Madoka studied the girl who could attach to her undetected then she glanced at Homura. To her surprise the dark haired girl looked shocked. Homura exactly knew the girl they had run into. She also knew that despite her looks the child was about as old as they had been when they first met. She might have been better off with a contract with the Incubators... Homura desperately tried to shake off this thought.“Madoka, this is my fault. I shouldn’t have forgotten about her but this time she didn’t make a contract so we’ve never found her...”She suddenly stopped and clapped her hand over her mouth. Now she felt how she hurt Madoka when she blamed herself. They had already learned that they couldn’t help everyone who was, had been, would be around. They couldn’t do anything in this world. She tried to apologize without words then she realized how pointless it could look to Madoka. But the other girl understood her and gently stroked her face.The child tilted her head as she looked at the two with genuine curiosity.“Do you know Yuma? But Yuma isn’t famous like you two!”The black haired girl nodded.„I saw you when you were this little.”, she raised her hand to her waist. She tried to use simple sentences and avoid mentioning things like the time loop. She didn’t want to confuse Yuma who seemed to be stuck in her childhood, or worse. But the child didn’t listen, the two girls’ intertwined fingers and the way they behaved fully occupied her attention.“Why are you hiding in the bushes holding hands? Are you in love? Mama said that two girls shouldn’t be! But Mama isn’t to be trusted!”“Here we go! Her mother is the one who made her what she is! We should have saved Yuma from her!”, Homura messaged to Madoka.“Is she that woman who’s coming here?”, Madoka asked in reply.“Yes, it’s her! Yuma doesn’t want to go with her!”, the child answered at once, flailing desperately as she hid behind the older girls.“Don’t say it aloud if you don’t want her to hear you.”, Homura messaged to Yuma.But Madoka switched to spoken English instead to involve Nyameka, because the African girl who couldn’t speak Japanese nor catch telepathic messages could hardly understand anything.“But what could we do for her, Homura-chan? She isn’t a magical girl... even though she understands our messages. It probably wouldn’t do any good to her if she had to fight on our side...”Chitose Masako arrived at this very moment. Even Homura didn’t know her in person but she was quite positive that Yuma’s mother hadn’t been wearing strange letters tattooed on her face before.The woman was furious to see her runaway daughter in such company. That problem child had to find these two of all... and they even had a gaijin with them, a black gaijin at that who was so alien to her that she could have easily come from another planet. And even worse, they weren’t even speaking Japanese, just to exclude her. She was sure that they deserved her hate regardless of the gossips and current official information about them. They had got everything she could only covet and they wasted everything. They were famous but didn’t make any use of their fame. They were rich but they just screwed around on the battlefield instead of enjoying the wealth. They were young and pretty yet they didn’t go and catch two good husbands. They had a sinful affair with one another instead, and the Kaname parents just kept smiling and patting their shoulders. Masako hated that mock of a family, that bunch of hypocrites. They were living in sin and now they tried to interfere with her own life. Fortunately this was a new, better world in which they couldn’t do anything they pleased.“Come here at once you good-for-nothing, away from those dykes! They’re wanted criminals!”, she yelled at her daughter gesturing with a smoking cigarette butt.Yuma had no intention to obey, she huddled herself up behind Madoka and Homura.Masako approached menacingly. Nyameka was sure she had seen enough and stepped in her way. The woman just tossed her aside and raised her hand to hit the next person she finds. But she tripped in some invisible obstacle and almost fell on her face as she rushed past the girls. She turned back with great determination and tried and failed again, just like the scared old man a little earlier. She fiercely peered into the lavender eyes that held her back. Of course, they had warned everyone about these girls’ supernatural abilities. The newscasters used to call them deserted magical girls. Then they became specially trained terrorists, but it didn’t make any difference to Masako.“I should have thought you’d try something you goddamn lesbian witches! But the Civil Protection will happily deal with you! I was stupid not to start here!”She flicked away the cigarette butt and called a very short number.“Hello, Reward Wire? It’s Chitose Masako here, four-seven-two-three. Two wanted persons have been sighted in the Sycamore Park. Yes, top priority.”Pink eyes flashed and she screamed and dropped the phone which flew in the bushes leaving a trail of smoke. Masako staggered to the nearest bench holding a hand to her face and flopped down trembling in shock and anger.“Teach this to Yuma too!”, the child cheered but Madoka and Homura were too scared to share her enthusiasm. The woman wasn’t too hard to deal with but the interrupted call could possibly stir up serious threat. Madoka regretted that it took so long to fry the phone.But the reaction was incredibly quick and close. A few seconds and they heard the sirens approaching from the other side of the park. Those mysterious someones at the other side of the line seemed always alert.Homura glanced around but she couldn’t see any vehicle they could have used so she closed her eyes to size up her inner reserves.“I’m sorry Madoka, I don’t know anything better. I think I can do it with the both of us now... take Yuma on your neck and take my hand! Nyameka, I’ll carry you!”The African girl looked her up and down in surprise.“I don’t understand anything, but shouldn’t we do the opposite? You must be much lighter than me...”„She’s right, Homura-chan! A few hours ago you couldn’t even walk without help...”, Madoka answered already knowing what Homura wanted to do. “We should really do the other way around. I’ll carry her and you take Yuma! And promise me that you won’t strain yourself too much! I really don’t want you to harm yourself any more. And you two, hang on to us very tight!”The pinkette was relieved to see Homura to nod with a bleak smile. Nyameka was even more confused now, but as she seated herself on Madoka’s shoulders she understood everything. She experienced the feeling speed bikers seek at ten thousand rpm and full throttle. Her grip tightened on Madoka while Yuma was smiling widely and waving back from Homura’s neck. The smoke grenades covered Masako in dark gray mist and they could only hear her shouting something, then even these voice splinters drowned in cough and disappeared in the distance and the hissing of the wind.This wasn’t how Nyameka imagined time magic, but at least she saw why she shouldn’t have tried to fight with Homura. Nyameka knew that the black haired girl was the source of the magic, but thanks to some mystic link both veterans slipped in a different time while she remained an outside observer. She couldn’t see where they zigzagged, even the two girls’ moves seemed unnatural to her eyes. She could hardly sense that she was saved by such a sudden turn from bumping into a patrolling drone. If it wasn’t for Madoka’s surprisingly strong grip she could have long been left behind at a corner. Now they were racing along the empty road: there were people on the sidewalks here and there, but the cars were mostly left on the sides of the roads.The drones turned around and begin to follow them closing in gradually. They didn’t miss any corner the girls took. Madoka fried one of them but she almost fell on her face while doing so and five new drones turned up instantly as a reinforcement. A huge display glowed on the side of a high-rise building. Instead of the usual advertisements it showed the description and portraits of Madoka and Homura. The speed the hidden enemy reacted with scared the girls.The next park belonged to the no man’s land between Kazamino and Mitakihara. It used to be a part of the city but during the last few years it degraded into a mere vacant lot next to the dying industrial zone. Homura had long known this place and if they had Kyouko with them she’d have instantly known where they were heading.They darted into the thick bushes and Nyameka flied, fell then rolled in the grass on the other side. As she got on her feet she saw Homura on her knees, struggling for breath while holding her hands against her chest, surrounded by the worried Madoka and Yuma. Nyameka was worried for Homura too, but the intermittent high-pitched beeping from the bushes where they had just come through scared her even more. Then the beeping accelerated to shrill chirping and exploded in a burst of deafening white noise and a blinding flash.“Kaname-san, Akemi-san, this way!”A blonde girl waved from the bushes. She was the fourth member of the legendary quartet Nyameka had always wanted to meet. Tomoe Mami guided them toward the ruins among the dense woods. Madoka and Nyameka followed stumbling in the undergrowth, supporting Homura from both sides.They shoved through an overgrown, barely visible gate into the former Sakura church. Nature had already taken over in there, nettle grew in the cracks of the floor and trees invaded through the long broken stained glass windows to get back the area humans had taken from them. There was nothing left in the nave but remainders of the pews vandalized by hobos and the stairs that led to the high altar. Mami ducked under the stairs and finally turned to the others in the twilight.She had changed since they last saw her. The showcase lieutenant-colonel of the UN/VP was now wearing denim and boots instead of elegant costumes and tied her hair in a handy bun. Two little curly tresses by the sides of her face and a third at her forehead, this was everything she left of the iconic drills that made her so popular on the screens.“We can take a rest here. I’ve knocked out the drones and there are no cameras around. The place will be as safe as possible for the next few hours.”“Mami-san, how did you know that we were coming?”, Madoka asked while she gently seated Homura. “And what happened up here to begin with? It’s like everyone’s gone crazy!”“I was guided by Mikuni-san. She knew when and where you’d pop up. And the people aren’t crazy... they’re just frightened. A lot of inexplicable things happened after you disappeared down there. All the Vortices closed at once and none has opened since then. It seems that we could even lift the quarantines anytime. But we couldn’t celebrate because the Observers arrived, at the exact same moment in every city of the world. They’re a bit different than those in Walbey’s pictures because our Observers look like bald Japanese. It is said that everywhere they popped up they look like the local natives and know the language. They didn’t need a week to defeat every army then they simply arrested and executed one percent of the population - as a warning. Then came everyone who would still lift up their voices. Anywhere you go there’s still a few who resist, but that’s all: a handful of people. The Mitakihara cell is led by Mikuni-san and we have Walbey too. He was so worried about you two that he stayed in Kazamino. Then the war broke out and we fled together before they attacked the underground lab. Thankfully Mikuni-san had already started to organize the Resistance before they arrived.“Wait a minute!”, Nyameka snapped. “So they didn’t even attack you but this ‘Mikuni-san’ was already racking her brain to figure out what to do when you lost?! Doesn’t she give up a bit too early?”“Nyameka-san, please don’t judge her! Mikuni-san sees many things before they’d happen.”, Madoka replied soothingly.“And this is our luck!”, Mami said. “We’d be defenseless against the Observers without her, because somehow they calculate possible futures and manipulate the events to get favorable results! And it’s not even magic to them, but technology. It couldn’t even be magic because they’d need emotions for that but they don’t feel anything. They’re like Incubators, even though Mikuni-san says that they’re our own descendants from about 600 years in the future. She’s the only one who can do something against them so she keeps sitting at the University on a pile of grief seeds only God knows how she obtained and keeps an eye on the future to lessen our handicap. She has enough eyes in Mitakihara so when in the city we’ll follow her instructions too. But before we’d go into details I think you also have things to tell me. Have you found Sakura-san? And who are these girls? Have you brought them from Hochfeld?”“Mami-san, she’s Nyameka-san!”, Madoka introduced the African girl. “We’ve met in the Power Station... or, at least, somewhere underground where we thought to be in the Power Station... she’s a former magical girl, she’s just been through her first operation. And Yuma-chan is... I don’t know. Homura-chan knows her from earlier. We’ve met here in Kazamino. It was her mother who reported us. She had a strange tattoo on her face.”“Then you had run into an informer of theirs. They’re nicknamed loyalists. The Observers established this system right after their victory. It’s scary how fast they made themselves at home. But I still don’t understand why did you bring this child with you. Her mother’s going to look for her.”“Because mom’s evil!”, Yuma exclaimed wholeheartedly.Homura had an entirely different answer in mind.“Because Yuma is one of my mistakes. One more thing I messed up. Like Amy.”, she said hoarsely, sitting slumped on a stone block, burying her face in her hands.Mami didn’t entirely understand. She was eyeing the raven haired girl deep in her thoughts.“What happened to you, Akemi-san? I feel that something went wrong.”Homura just waved off the question as she thought about their last mission.“You already know that we infiltrated the Power Station to free Kyouko. But they caught us instead and it was Kyouko who helped us. Jones was really there, just like we suspected... he experimented on us. He opened a gateway between two worlds and we’ve met our alternatives. Even you were there, and Sayaka too. And Kyouko left to that world to help them against their Incubators. But Jones did something worse, and changed everything with it. I suspect something but I don’t think it would be safe to talk about it. And I think if I suspect something then Walbey will immediately know. Just tell him that Jones has changed the place of our world!”“You can tell him yourself, he wants to see you as soon as possible! But we have to get into Mitakihara first. It’s easy for me, but you two are wanted. Actually you had been wanted for a while. We didn’t understand why because they did never give a damn about us.”Before she could have continued Madoka interrupted her with worried look.“Mami-san... are my parents okay? The Observers must have looked for us at home... didn’t they hurt them?”“I’m sorry, Kaname-san. We couldn’t contact them since this whole thing began. They never pick up the phone and don’t answer online. We didn’t try to get to them in person, Mikuni-san said that it would be dangerous. The Observers would associate us with you if they saw us there. We hope they don’t answer because they know that they’re being watched.”Madoka’s face turned pale and even Homura felt dizzy. In the distant, hazy, medicine-flavored past her bad heart would have possibly failed her. Before meeting Madoka she had no one that would have cared for her, no one that would have made her worry. But it was all different now. There are moments when the world can wait. She knew that the world would involve itself in anything they do anyway, like it always happened.“We must see them!”, she snapped. Madoka gave her a thankful look.Mami nodded understandingly.“Go look for them, but after that we want to see you at the University. Alive. We don’t even have to change our plan. Our problem remains: we want to get you into Mitakihara but they keep the incoming roads and bridges under control. They stop every vehicle and identify every pedestrian. They’d immediately spot you. The river is not an option, you’d make an easy target while swimming. Mikuni-san can help you to avoid the Observers on the streets but even she can’t help you to get past the checkpoints. On the other hand, Walbey sent you a lot of Cortexiphan. He suspects that with the right dose Kaname-san could take you to the other side, just like Olivia. The entry is guarded only on our side, at least we hope that they haven’t invaded the other universe. According to Walbey it’s safe to cross over now that the decay of our world stopped.“I’ve never done it, Mami-san, but I must try!”, Madoka answered with a determined look.“I’ve brought you some extra equipment, Kaname-san. You’ll need it to cross over. I report that you’re here then I give it to you.”Then she took her phone from the pocket of her denim jacket.“I’ve found them, exactly where and when expected.”, she said to someone on the other side. “Four. No, she isn’t with them, they’re with two new girls. No, you’ll see. They say she’s alive. Right, according to the plan. Yes, they go there first. What do your lines say? Okay, as we arranged.”She pocketed her phone then turned to the girls again.“Walbey would like to see you. He’s sad that Sakura-san isn’t here and he’s sorry for sending you there. Mikuni-san says that it’ll be the best to leave around four-twenty, give or take ten minutes. She’ll call me should anything change.”She paused to have a look at the group. With the possible exception of Yuma they looked quite depressed, especially Homura. Madoka just whispered something in her ear while fiddling with her hair. Mami watched them with a bit of envy but she knew them enough to know that they probably had good reason to pay more attention to each other than to her speech. She had seen the dark haired girl dragging the four of them in her own time and she knew that it was exhausting enough for her even when she did it alone. And even though Homura didn’t go into details Mami was terrified of the thought of Jones experimenting on the two. So she waited a little more and observed the new girls in the meantime.The African girl was a rather unusual sight for her, yet Mami felt that she was a ‘pretty normal’ girl with a ‘pretty normal’ post-magical trauma, just like herself. She surely had her own story and one day she would probably tell it. Mami felt that they’d probably understand each other. At least in English. The child was a harder nut to crack. She seemed keen and playful but very immature and Mami felt something hiding under the childish surface - but the blonde didn’t want to mull over this problem now.“You’ve heard the call. This is the way we talk on the phone and we discuss every important matter in person because the calls might be monitored. Sometimes we use encrypted two-way radios through relay stations and often change the frequency.”Nyameka had been silent so far but something worried her and she couldn’t help asking anymore.“Excuse me... Tomoe-san... is there any news from Namibia? I don’t even know how we left the Power Station but I’m afraid everything’s crashed there... have you heard about any disaster in my country?”Mami just shook her head. Any news from the outside world was censored and contorted by the Observers’ propaganda lately.“Nyameka-san...! I’m so sorry, we forgot about your parents! We don’t know anything about them!”, Madoka realized.“Don’t worry about them. My mother died several years ago and my father has just been shot.”, the Namibian girl answered with her head bowed. “Aunt Mahloli was the only one to help me from my family since then. It doesn’t matter where I go, no one will miss a corrupt minister’s daughter back in Windhoek. I’d have just liked to know what happened at home...”Madoka gave her a sad look. She could never get used to it, even though it was so normal by magical girl standards. And before they exposed the aliens most of these girls either died in witch barriers or ended up as witches themselves. Madoka was quite sure that it would have been Nyameka’s fate too if she hadn’t met Kyouko.“Don’t worry, I can manage.”, Nyameka gave her a bleak smile. “Just go, I’ll cheer for you. At least you should find your parents.”“Oh... before we’d disappear on you... this was sent by Kyouko.”Homura held out the briefcase she had got from the Namibian girl. She was too weak to get up and give it to Mami so the blonde stepped to her and took it.“What’s in it?”, Mami asked raising her brows.Homura took a deep breath but couldn’t say anything. She asked Madoka with her tired eyes to do the talking.“A lot of dangerous things.”, Madoka began. “A bunch of grief seeds, disks with research material and something so bad that Kyouko didn’t even tell us what’s that. She said that Peter would probably figure out what to do with it, but I don’t know how we can contact him in this chaos.”“Neither do I. No one knows where he is. The only thing I know is that Walbey asked him and Olivia to retrieve something from somewhere. But the grief seeds will come handy, Mikuni-san has to use her magic too much.”“There’s something more.”, Madoka kept speaking while she sat down next to Homura letting the other girl hanging on to her. “It’s a drug Jones was working on. It’s called 3D. They used it to make witches out of magical girls. They dosed Homura-chan with it to find her parallel in the other universe. Mami-san, the other Homura-chan was a witch and we’ve been to her labyrinth!”Mami turned red. She was close to use words not becoming to a classy lady. She counted to ten, twenty, fifty with clenched fists. She was looking for the part of her that methodically took notes about every witch she met and figured out how to make muskets out of ribbons.Finally she found it. Then she had to find the supply she brought for the two to get them into Mitakihara. Two rather big doses of Cortexiphan, a pair of ear plugs, a dive mask with covered visor, two Beretta 92FS’ and a waterproof radio transmitter.The pair kept silent too, only Madoka raised her brows at the ear plugs and dive mask.“Walbey said that you’ll need an isolation tank to cross over.”, Mami explained. “And among all things here the winter fountain at the bridge is the closest to a tank. You inject half of the Cortexiphan, it’s even better if you do it now, you take these not to see nor hear anything, the lukewarm water will switch off your sense of heat, then... I hope you know what to do.”It was all clear to Madoka. She had already tried how does it feel to float in the emptiness and she knew that her subconscious would do strange things without the consent of her conscious self. And if there aren’t too many obstacles, it would do these things to reality itself.She hesitated for a moment then she opened the case of a clean syringe to clear the way for her inner powers. Although the drug was effective if taken orally it took effect faster and better this way. Madoka remembered how shocked and worried her parents had been when they saw the first needle marks on her arm. She still didn’t fully understand how she could convince them that her mission was important enough to do this to herself. Homura’s repeated medical examinations and soul magnet treatments at the Kazamino base could have possibly prepared them for the things to come. They also talked to Olivia who had first met the drug thirty years earlier and there still weren’t any lasting effects. But Madoka’s determination must have been the most important of all.The doses she used on the battlefield were very small, but this time she was preparing to cross over the boundaries of the world so this dose was many times greater. She suspected that this time she wouldn’t get away with it.But she was still fine. She smiled at Mami then gently helped Homura to sit up and eat. There was enough food in Mami’s backpack for the five of them. The resistance fighters usually ate packaged food from the University’s cafeteria but the relatives of Mami’s ex helped them too from a nearby village.“He’s a good guy. It was no one’s fault that we didn’t fit together. You see, he still helps us...”, the blonde mused.As she watched the two she couldn’t help reconsidering the idea that had always been crawling in the back of her mind. Maybe she should find a nice girl, anyone who could help her endure these times. She quickly shook her head. That surely wouldn’t work. And it wasn’t that bad. She had friends now and it was much more than back in her school days. She kept watching them while she brushed aside her gloomy thoughts to smile more sincerely. She switched to a more lighthearted subject to escape her thoughts.“You’ve surprised me with this hairstyle. Is this a new game to you?”, she asked the girlfriends. Madoka had just tied a bow to Homura’s freshly woven braid while the other girl was just staring forward like she had been hypnotized. Homura was so tired that she couldn’t even sense that part of the world that wasn’t Madoka. She felt the familiar fingers playing with her tresses and these touches soothed and lulled her.Yuma grew envious of their game but the only hair she could play was her own. She had just finished with her new braids and she swayed them grinning, with those huge beads on their ends. Then she began to examine Nyameka’s much trickier cornrows.Madoka watched her with a tired smile.“Not really. I just braided my hair to put on that diving suit easier and I didn’t have the time to let it down.”, she answered. “But Homura-chan is so cute like this...”“You’re cute too, Kaname-san, but I still think that you both look better if you let your hair loose.”So Madoka let her hair down and turned around to show that her tresses were split in two in Homura’s style.“Do you get it?”, she winked. But her hair wasn’t used to this treatment and a head shake made the parting disappear.Then she sat down on the ground, laid Homura’s head into her lap and took her hand the other girl held out to her. Years had passed since they had to spend the night among ruins. Homura probably couldn’t even have fallen asleep without a physical contact with Madoka back then. She was probably afraid of Madoka disappearing overnight, of the realization that everything since Walpurgisnacht had been an illusion, of the empty city without exit that haunted her dreams.Now they relived those times. Mecca had been last place where they fought together, the last place where they were surrounded by strange, hostile night in their sleep. When they fought witches their mission rarely took more than a few hours. When they went to look for magical girls in faraway cities they could always find shelter for the night. But in Mecca there was nothing. Nothing but the ever hissing wind among the vacated buildings and the loose familiars of the witches that had already fell out of this world. At the center of the closed city there sat the unfinished sarcophagus, a depressing half-baked attempt to save the holy city without desecrating it, utterly failed and waiting to be cleaned from the supernatural dangers that consumed its builders. That mission reminded of hunting in the Zone of Chernobyl or Fukushima. They had to check their radiation dose every evening as they were so close to an open wormhole leading to the unknown.This evening Madoka and Mami talked about those times. Nyameka listened them shivering and they could even hold Yuma’s attention. Then it was Nyameka’s turn to tell them how she had sniffed around in the depths of the Power Station and how she met the former magical girls. Yuma was still listening.They didn’t pay attention to the fading light and once they just saw that they couldn’t even see the others’ outlines. Yet they didn’t make a fire. Its light and heat could have possibly attracted some curious eyes. Mami and Nyameka kept on telling their stories for a while in the complete darkness but Madoka focused on the dark haired girl sleeping on her lap. * She couldn’t remember when she had fallen asleep but she was positive that the dawn was nigh. Homura quietly moaned in her sleep and Madoka gently stroked her forehead.“Does Akemi-san still have nightmares?”, an uncertain shady blob asked in front of her. Of course, they spent the night in the ruins with Mami and two other girls. Madoka just waved, she didn’t feel strong enough to tell the nightmarish details of the last few days that haunted her too.“It’s after four, you should leave! Mikuni-san gave the nod too. You probably won’t bump into Observers but if you do, run. You don’t have any chance against them with your weapons. They see time differently and those bullets are simply aren’t fast enough, they catch them in flight with bare hands. But the guns may come handy against the informers and the civil protection. I don’t tell you to shoot at passersby or Yuma-chan’s mother but no one knows what future holds...“Feel free to shoot at her, she deserves it!”, they heard the child girl’s voice from the darkness.Mami stiffened in an instant like freezing rain. How many nights she had lain awake regretting her wish... She should have thought it through so she could have saved her family. She would have given so much to get them back... How could anyone wish for her own mother’s death?“Dear God... Do you understand what you just said?”“I understand it just as clearly as she understood that she tried to kill Madoka and Homura when she reported them. And she knew exactly what she was doing when she broke my arm. My mother is a bad person and the whole world would be better off without her.”Mami was dumbfounded. There wasn’t a trace of the ignorant playful child in Yuma’s ice cold voice. Yuma even forgot to talk about herself in third person. The blonde girl pitied and feared her at once. She was afraid of their future with this broken child.Madoka sat up supporting herself with both arms behind her back. She saw what she saw yesterday and knew enough about Homura’s parents too not to see anyone enviable just for having parents. She wanted to defend Yuma but her very first move pierced her head with burning pain. Then every single heartbeat shot another imaginary bullet through her brain. She groaned in pain.“Madoka... It’s the Cortexiphan, isn’t it?”Homura wasn’t asleep anymore, the pain woke her up too.“I knew that I wouldn’t get away with this much... I’m sorry that you have to endure it too...”, she answered with a lopsided smile Homura couldn’t see in the darkness anyway. Madoka held her hands against her eyes and forehead and took a few deep breaths.They lurched to their feet very slowly. The pain made them nauseous so they couldn’t even think of having a breakfast and they planned to bathe in the fountain soon so they had nothing else to do before leaving. They woke up Nyameka and said goodbye to her too. Mami escorted them to the church gate by her phone’s light then the two could see enough under the unusually faintly illuminated sky of the two adjoining cities.They crossed the rail tracks near the church with muscles aching from the run yesterday then they crept from tree to tree in the unkempt park until they reached the riverside. The eastern horizon was already glowing in blue and the rest of the sky wasn’t black silk anymore. They saw the end of two bridges: one was made of steel and concrete and led to the island where their former school and Mami’s house were. The other was a shallow pool built upon a hot spring, full of water lilies, even at winter. This one hopefully opened to another universe.They picked the darkest corner where no one could see them then slipped into the lukewarm water. Madoka covered her eyes and plugged her ears then laid on her back floating close to the surface. Homura tried to hold her hand without distracting her and waited.“I’m so sorry, Homura-chan, I can’t... I’m going around in circles, my head is full of thoughts and... you are inside too. I may need you to take a dose too.”Homura thought it over. There seemed to be no right solution. It didn’t matter whether they’d use their remaining Cortexiphan or not, she saw no way back. If they could be fast enough on the other side and get to the other Madoka’s home before the effect would fade away, then maybe... She couldn’t even imagine what the Goddess’ parents would do if they saw them, but she didn’t have any better idea.“If you think that I need it more than you...”, she began. Madoka smiled at her and nodded. She fished the little waterproof package out of her pocket.“Are you sure?”, Homura asked, just to be safe.Madoka handed her the syringe and the ampule they got for the way back.Homura had never tried such a big dose. Now she tried to relax and turn off her own consciousness to let Madoka lead them both. It seemed that Cortexiphan began to cause hallucinations in this amount. She heard footsteps somewhere behind. Perhaps they were their own steps. She was running together with the other girl along a dark, empty corridor. The floor, the ceiling, the walls were covered with a checkerboard of black and white stone blocks, the only colorful thing in this monochrome world was Madoka’s pink hair. She was running right before her, right ahead then circling up the black and white spiral stairs.“Freeze!”, the silhouettes shouted. They stepped out of the walls and followed them. They were dazzling black and white at once to contrast black and white stones as well. Madoka didn’t look at them but kept running like she was running for her life.“It’s the Civil Protection here! Leave the fountain at once! You are under arrest!”Homura couldn’t tell if reality filtered in their visions or she was just imagining those silhouettes, but she was sure that there was no way back. They were standing before a huge steel gate locked by two rows of heavy fasteners. Madoka planted her feet then grabbed the lever that moved the fasteners and pulled it with all her might. A bullet whizzed past as it glanced off the metal. Homura sprang to the lever and pulled it together with the other girl. Another bullet hit the gate between them. The heavy gate opened slowly and they fell through, into the unknown darkness. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Rigid Paradise v0.901 “Dear Sayaka: They aren't much, God knows - but here are the things I know for sure, and at the end you will find a list of questions you should do your best to find answers to. The questions are important. I have thought harder about them than I have about the answers I have. That is the first thing I know for sure: (1.) If the questions don't make sense, neither will the answers. (2.) I am a thing called a magical girl. (3.) I am in a place called Mitakihara. (4.) I attend a thing called a school. (5.) There are more magical girls in the school. Magical girls hunt wraiths that haunt people. The girls collect blackballs which then they give to creatures called Incubators. Incubators are supervised by the real commander of Mitakihara. ... (15.) Somebody changed everything for some reason. (16.) Your head is full of memories you have always had, but some of them are fake. (17.) Always keep your eyes open because seeing something you didn't remember may mean you learn another piece of truth. ... (76.) The world is controlled by two real commanders who always stick together. One is a very thin, raven haired girl. For some reason you know she is the Devil. The other is a tiny pinkette who have just transferred to the school. The Devil's name is Akemi Homura. The pinkette is called Kaname Madoka. Homura is in love with Madoka. ... (89.) Sayaka, your best friend is a red haired girl called Sakura Kyouko. There's two of her: one of them had come from Kazamino and is in your class. The other is just telling you these, and she probably looks angry but she'll tell everything anyway because she had promised to tell you everything you two learn. This second Kyouko is your best pal. She eats constantly but she isn't fat - probably because she thinks so much. If you want to do her some favor, get her Pocky and apples, these are her favorites. Sakura Kyouko is from another world, that's why she doesn't have an antenna in her head. Kyouko decided to change Mitakihara so she's always watching the school, especially the two real commanders. Every time you learn something new you must tell her, because it’s her job to remember everything that's erased from everyone else's heads. Important things get erased from your head too, so you always have to be prepared! (90.) Be careful! Your uniform has built in camera and microphone to let your best pal see and hear everything you see and hear. Kyouko is almost a magical girl so she can look into your head and can send you messages, but she never does when Homura is around, she uses a radio instead. Homura must not learn that Kyouko is here, because she'd put an antenna in her head too and no one would remember anymore. ... (104.) Kaname Madoka used to be your best friend, but now you aren't even allowed to talk to her much. If you try, your head is going to hurt. Kyouko said that you can't talk to Madoka because then she'd might realize that she used to be the real commander of the world and Akemi Homura won't allow it. (105.) The Devil never sleeps, hence the bags under her eyes. She's always on guard to keep Madoka from learning things she shouldn't. She's watching over you too, but far less than over Madoka, so you have already learned a lot of things. Sometimes she cleans out Madoka's memory too, just like everyone else's. Sometimes she does even rewind time and makes everyone else except your pal forget everything again. Your friend then looks you up and tells you everything. You left her a password no one else knows, that's why you believe her. (106.) Akemi Homura dances on Broken Hill nightly, and she meets the Incubators there. That's the only time she leaves Madoka alone, but sometimes Madoka comes to see her. Kyouko said that Madoka loves Homura too, she just forgot about it. (107.) Akemi Homura can not be killed. She sometimes purposely jumps into the ravine and she always survives. ... (141.) Kyouko said that the world used to be full of witches that had become of magical girls. The incubators wanted more witches so they tortured magical girls to break them. Then Madoka ruined their system so everyone could die in peace, because instead of turning into witches they were taken away by her. But the Incubators wanted their witches back so decided to take control of her. Kyouko said that she had even seen the witch they made of Homura to get Madoka, but Homura got them instead. (142.) Kyouko said she could have prevented it all, but she had been a victim of a series of accidents, as are we all. (188.) Sayaka, you don't have to fight Homura, because it's impossible. You don't even have to judge her. Your goal is to somehow, anyhow make Madoka remember. That's why Kyouko thinks so much, but she couldn't yet find out how. She said she needs a lot of details to find the key. She hopes that she'll have her day soon.” * [Mitakihara-2, 6th of April, 2011]They sat down to have their tasteless breakfast. Several hours had passed since they landed face first into the water lilies in the pond at the bridge yet they didn’t know anything about this world except that something was wrong here too. But they had a lot of time to learn because they were stranded.As they staggered out of the lukewarm water Madoka looked at Homura sadly and shook her head. The dark haired girl understood: they wouldn’t make it back home. They were stuck here without another dose of Cortexiphan. Then they sat there waiting for the dizziness and nausea go away while the water of the two fountains were dripping from their clothes.Their only hope was to find Kyouko or at least an alternative of an acquaintance. They asked quite a few students before school but it didn’t help at all. They didn’t know Madoka (it was expected), were talking about Kyouko as ‘that rascal from Kazamino’ and some of them shot frightened looks at Homura. They just forgot to mention why they were afraid of her. Did magical girls have a bad reputation around here? Or they took her for a ghost? The two girls weren’t even sure anymore that they had arrived at the right universe.They couldn’t possibly reach any other worlds with their primitive method but their closest neighbor, but they couldn’t be sure that their world stayed where Jones’ Device placed it. It had surely changed for the worse, but this one looked idyllic – perhaps too idyllic. There was no sign of the Observers, but could a world without them be their immediate neighbor?At least the two worlds seemed to be more aligned now: they arrived at the same place where they left their own universe. But the trees in full bloom showed that its time was still different. They checked the date at the first newspaper-vending machine: it was the spring of Walpurgisnacht, even though they were sure that they should have been after the time loop.They were sitting next to the path in the park in front of the school when they spotted their parallels. They came to school together but there was something disturbing in their demeanor. Even their appearance was an anomaly: the Gods and the dead shouldn’t walk among the living. But at least they knew them in person. These two could probably tell them what happened in this world. They sprang up and they’d have run to them if someone wouldn’t have caught their shoulders from behind.“You shouldn’t hurry. It would be better if they didn’t notice you.”It was Miki Sayaka, another one who shouldn’t have been here. They followed her curiously but silently among the trees. Then they stopped hoping that they would finally get some explanation. But Sayaka asked a question instead of explaining anything.“What’s happened to me in your world?”Of course. Her mistrust was understandable in this situation.“I’m terribly sorry, Sayaka-chan...”, Madoka answered. “You turned into a witch and died.”“Don’t worry, Madoka, I know. But it isn’t enough. How did I die?”“Kyouko and I tried to bring you back, but we failed.”, Homura said. “You remained inside the subway station of 7th Avenue, frozen in amber. It happened six years ago.”“This is really something!”, Sayaka cheered like she’d heard some good news. The two looked so puzzled the blunette burst into laughter. Then, seeing their still confused faces she apologized and started her long waited explanation.“It’s really you two! Kyouko will be delighted! Umm... sorry. You don’t have an idea what a relief can any change be! It’s so depressing when you can’t even trust your own memories... Like everything was fine. The only strange thing was that I was the Devil’s classmate and I didn’t even know what the hell it meant! Then Madoka transferred to my class and Homura went nuts. If I try to talk to Madoka she’ll give me those eyes. Once she even told me that she’d kill me... Even though Madoka is my childhood friend! Sorry, I was talking about the other Madoka and Homura. Our ones.”“And who is the Devil?”, the dark haired girl asked.“You. I mean the other Homura. We just call her Akuma Homura. The same way as our Madoka is Madokami. The Goddess.”Sayaka scratched her head with a distracted smile.“Sorry, I’m still not used to talking with copies of the same person... We can nicely fool around with our Kyouko, but yours is totally different... she’s the leader of the Resistance!”“Resistance...?”“Well... Kyouko and me.”, the blue-haired girl admitted. “But she never does field operations. She says that Akuma Homura doesn’t know about her and that it should stay this way. If she got discovered there would be no one who could remember when the Devil would reset time. She’s the one who tells me what we learned in the past cycles, every time a bit more. Then my memories begin to come back too so I know that she’s telling the truth. From time to time the Devil cleans out my brain but she never does a perfect job, you know.”“Homura-chan!”, Madoka exclaimed with disapproval in her voice.“We’re going to find out why she’s doing this!”, Homura answered with determination, instinctively flipping back her hair. Then she interpreted her own gesture. It meant that she was preparing for another war.“You don’t have to try too hard. We already know.”, Sayaka said. “But you’d better hold on to something. Or, better yet, sit down.”They were walking on the riverbank so they chose some nice stones to sit on. Sayaka waited for the two to seat themselves then took a significant glance around and finally let it out.“Because of Madoka. We learned that they are Real Commanders of the world. But for some reason Akuma Homura doesn’t want Madoka to remember so she cleared her memory too. Kyouko said that she had put two and two together and figured out that this is how the Devil protects Madoka from the Incubators. But we should return to our base, Kyouko can tell you better... I know it sounds like I’m stupid and she knows everything but there’s no helping to it... My brain’s regularly cleaned out and I live the same time repeated... I could hardly have a fortnight to learn what I know...”, she scratched the back of her head.Homura nodded and got up. She began to understand her parallel. If she had to put herself in this Devil’s mind she would probably manage. She didn’t yet know what could they do, but she was sure that the other Homura is deep in her own hell. * As they entered the hideout Kyouko fell upon their necks with a beaming smile.“Yes! There is a God!”, she exclaimed and offered some Pocky right away. “You are exactly what I need now, come here, sit down!”“I’ve heard everything Sayaka told you... now I’ll tell you some more and I’m sure you’ll tell me a few things too. One needs a very good reason to cross over to another universe.”“We are here because this is our only way to get home. We must find Madoka’s parents.”, Homura answered.Kyouko anxiously looked at the two. She knew how attached they were to the Kaname parents.“And why can’t you get home?”“Because we have an occupied world too. Mitakihara is closed.”, Homura cut the long story short.“But I don’t think it’s your hostage, then you wouldn’t be here. Especially not together with Madoka.”“No. It was done by our bald friends whom you photographed at the Power Station. They just popped up, made a nice little blood bath and now they are running the world. We’ve even learned who they are: our very future, the successors of humankind. They see the future and they can even manipulate time to an extent. At least they could come back to us, 600 years in their own past.”“Then you’ve met your master, Time Lady!”She earned an annoyed head shake from Homura. The ‘Time Lady’ knew that Kyouko loved to exaggerate. Her present magic was but a mere shadow of its former self. Backed by cutting edge military technology she could take on regular witches but in Hochfeld it couldn’t even save her from being captured. She couldn’t even dream about going back in time like she used to.Kyouko didn’t let her get lost in thought.“All right. Let’s deal with the mess here. Because we’ll have to fix it if we ever want to get home. And I can’t just stand by and look how this cute little couple screws up their lives! Hell, they remind me of you two and God knows why, I got a liking of you...!”, she grinned. Then she quickly chewed up the Pocky between her teeth and started to play with another one.“Sayaka told you the basics but she left out a lot.”The blue-haired girl tried to object but Kyouko cut her off.“Of course there are many things you don’t know, Sayaka. Thank that cutie pie Akuma-chan for that... But let’s start at the beginning, back in Hochfeld! You remember when I left with our parallels, right? Well, it was only half the work. They went home, just as planned. But I found myself sitting at the bottom of a mine, in the middle of the Central Plateau of Namibia, just as I should have expected...”“And we emerged in Kazamino after climbing at least a hundred floors... I’m sorry for messing everything up with that goddamn machine... Believe me, I wouldn’t have touched it with a ten-foot pole if I had been myself...”, Homura growled.“Just wait, here comes the tricky part! Somehow I got back to Japan and finally I was on a train that just arrived to a station. Then blam...! I found myself sitting in the air. Needless to say that I didn’t land gracefully. Then I could hardly dodge another train... You can imagine how happy I was that it hadn’t happened like 12 hours earlier, on the plane, at ten thousand meters... and how much I cursed you!“Me?”, Homura raised her brow.“Your alter ego. I staggered to the station and checked a clock. The world had jumped back about two weeks – without me. So I thought that I found the reason and later I saw that I was right. I’ve been on guard since then. I never sleep at any place I haven’t already seen in millisecond one. I wouldn’t like to wake up with a suitcase embedded in my stomach. Good that I found this room, it’s pretty safe, I keep everything in its right place.”Madoka was listening. She didn’t want to be hasty. She knew that there was even more to it.“But everything else was well and good. Suspiciously good. I talked with magical girls who hunt some Wraiths and never turn into witches but simply disappear by some karmic law instead. I thought that they’re taken away by this world’s Madoka, just like our friends had said. But then I found this Madoka, right here in Mitakihara! She’s in the same school as you were six years ago, because it’s 2011 here! And Madoka is the new girl in the class. Rings a bell?”Madoka remembered how she first met Homura: Saotome-sensei announced the arrival of a transfer student. The door opened and a lithe cool beauty entered, with fantastic shiny black hair that reached her thighs. Madoka just sat there, struck dumb, because she had already seen her: in a strange dream, beaten in some brutal fight, crying out to Madoka casting aside her cool pride. Of course it was a memory, filtering in from another timeline. Now they switched places in this world. ‘Do devils dream of divine Madokas?’, the pinkette wondered.“And here comes the part you’ve already heard. Madoka isn’t really here of her own volition. It seems that she was brought back by this self-proclaimed Devil Homura. I don’t even know what happened to the Law that she personifies. Believe me, I didn’t have the stomach to kill a magical girl just to see.”“Sayaka said something about the Incubators. Something like they threatened Madoka. Do you know anything else about it?”“It’s just a theory. I could make some sense of Akuma Homura’s scattered words so I think that the Incubators used her to trap Madoka. This was the origin of the witch we saw. I can imagine it hurt her head. But maybe not too much. Honestly, Homura... If you knew you needed a whole world to hide Madoka from their eyes, and you had the power to create one - what would you do? And what would you do if Madoka wanted to break free from that world to help everyone by endangering herself? Listen, Homura – don’t ever do the same. It’s a must-see how royally the other you screwed herself. It’s really something, even by magical girl standards. I recall you from our first days. You tried so hard to be cool and composed, distant and mysterious. But as I watched you it became so obvious that it was a facade... Now she’s the same, just much more mental. She curses herself a thousand times, she’d run to Madoka but she’s afraid for her, of her. She’s full of guilt and suicidal intent. I’ve seen her smash a hole in a concrete wall. With her forehead. The she spent an hour scrubbing the blood from her face while Madoka kept trying to drag her to the infirmary. I’ve seen her jump off a cliff. I’ve seen her step in front of a train. But she can endure everything except what’s inside.”Homura swallowed hard. She tried to keep calm while she saw tears forming in Madoka’s eyes.“Homura-chan, we must help them!”, the pinkette exclaimed. She sprang up kicking over her chair in the process. It noisily tipped over while Madoka was standing there leaning against the top of the table with her fists, staring ahead with knitted brows as a picture of determination.“I knew that I could count on you!”, Kyouko said with a fanged grin while she stood the chair back to its place. “Homura, do you agree? Will you let Madoka be a substitute Goddess for a while?”“What...?”, Homura gaped at the redhead.“You two are so attached that I don’t think you could do anything alone without talking it over in time. And it’s not even safe: you’ll have to entrust Madoka to your lunatic alternative... although I don’t think she could harm her, even now, we have a good reason to worry about ourselves!“Madoka wants to go...”, Homura answered submissively.“It’s no good, Homura! For some reason I feel that you’re still not fully convinced... but at least you took a step towards not turning into such a ‘devil’. Congratulations! Whatever, it’s up to you two to talk about it later. I can’t really see any other chance than waking up this other Madoka, though. It shouldn’t be too hard because Akuma Homura has to constantly keep an eye on her. A few days should be enough, I guess. I’ve already prepared everything because Sayaka and me have been spying on them the same way. We’ve hidden a bug and a camera in her uniform and we set up a mobile connection. I usually borrow Sayaka’s laptop and use it to record every important moment.Then she turned to Madoka juggling with an apple.“Come here, in the middle! We’ll turn you into a schoolgirl Madoka!”The pinkette stepped to the center of the room. Kyouko bit the apple while looking her over.“We have a good start! For example, your hair is perfect. You don’t even need ribbons, she often forgets them too. But we still have to change a few things. We should make you even peachier with some makeup. You’ll have to learn to apply it yourself in case you’d have to substitute her for a few weeks. We’ll get a kit so you can practice. Then you should bend a bit if you don’t want to get caught in the very first second. You’re as tall as Homura now!”“Like this?”, Madoka asked from an inch or two lower.“Better.”, Kyouko nodded. “Though it would be easier to replace Homura. Ours is the spitting image of the Devil, we’d only have to do something to her eyes.”“I’ll be fine with the makeup, I’ve learned a lot from Mom.”, Madoka smiled.Then Kyouko had a good look at Madoka’s fatigues.“Switch clothes with Sayaka! I’d like to see you in school uniform!”Madoka was a late bloomer. While Homura had already stopped growing when they met the tiny pinkette caught up later in height and passed her otherwise.“Well... you’ve grown a bit!”, the redhead remarked on Madoka’s chest. ”Not too bad, you must be about my size. I don’t think she’d notice in this uniform. At least it fits a bit better. You won’t have the time to switch clothes with the other Madoka anyway, we’ll have about twenty-five seconds to replace her.Kyouko stood in silence for a while, studying her attire.“But the hardest part is always the role play.”, she said after the pause. “Fortunately their Madoka has just come back from America and she doesn’t have a clue about anything so you won’t have to cram too much. But keep in mind that you haven’t seen Sayaka for years and above all you don’t know Homura! But it’s true after all - you really don’t know her. She’s not your Homura but a mysterious stranger in your new class. She’s cryptic and puzzling but she attracts your eyes for some reason. You don’t know why you like her but you find her very interesting. No! Jesus Christ, don’t even try this gaze! Madoka isn’t like that! I want to see a shy look. Like this, very good.”Sayaka couldn’t help laughing. Kyouko paused for a few seconds then she continued.“We’ve done a good deal of spying on them, poor Sayaka had her memory erased several times for it. But now we have a rough idea about their relationship. You can be scared if Homura gives you a reason. You can pity her, sometimes even we do, and it’s not for nothing. We know that she just plays the Devil and we don’t want to do any harm to her. You’ll follow her to give a good picture about her to the other, clueless Madoka. And, of course, to give Homura back to her unharmed. It’s up to Madokami to judge her.”Kyouko’s words seemed to scare Madoka.“Sorry, it might have been a bit ominous... Okay, I remember, Olivia said that her alter ego wasn’t that nice, let alone Walternate! And I know that we’re talking about a God and a rebel angel, or something like that. But as I watched them they always reminded me of you two so I don’t think she’d skin her alive. But I don’t think that she’d let her toy with the world like this either. And when she’s in charge again she might even be able to help us back home. She’s a Goddess, after all... but I’ll tell her a few words on Homura’s behalf, is that okay?“And what about Madokami? Isn’t she threatened by Kyubey’s kind? This world is perfect to hide her from them, but won’t they continue where they stopped if we free her?”“I don’t think that Akuma Homura really needs to do it, she’s just too afraid to stop. You should see what she’s done to the Incubators!”, Kyouko grinned. “She might not be exactly right in the head, but she has my respect for that one. We don’t have to worry about them. They are responsible to her in person and it seems that they feel all the grief they collect from the magical girls so they aren’t that eager anymore... I’d be happy to show you some records but I couldn’t find any way to transfer them between cycles. That’s why she mustn’t learn about us. If we forget what we want to do we’ll be screwed!”“Kyouko and Homura can only watch you from here, Madoka, but I’ll be always around to help you out in case of any trouble.”, Sayaka added. “I have nothing to lose. You know: everything I know I only know because Kyouko told me.”“And you believe her without question?”, Homura asked.“I left a password to her. Something only I could know. This is the proof that I really hear my own memories from her. I suggest you to do the same. Just in case.”“She has already believed me at least two dozen times.”, Kyouko added with a dead serious face. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Mystic Oriental Love Consultation v0.9 They watched a pile of records about the interaction of the other Madoka and Homura then Kyouko sent Sayaka home to sleep a few hours. When the blunette left she had a walk around the neighborhood and took a bath in the river. She could never stand confinement let alone orderly life, yet she had too much of them lately so she needed some fresh air and open space. By the time she returned the light was already fading. The sight of Madoka alone under the bridge took her by surprise, she thought the couple inseparable.“We’re preparing for tomorrow.”, the pinkette explained. “We haven’t been farther than a meter from each other since Hochfeld. Soul gems work from a hundred meters but we don’t know what would happen if we got separated, even though we’ll have to part tomorrow, or any time we start with this plan. So I came here to try it and let Homura-chan sleep. I’m too wide awake and I’m afraid I’d mix my thoughts in her dreams... or something like that. And I know that she badly needs some rest. She’s been so easily exhausted lately and sometimes she... isn’t really here.”“Sorry for not asking... I had to take care of so many things. What happened to her? It sounds like something’s wrong with her magnets...”“Then it seems you haven’t heard everything. But it’s probably something you should have seen instead. Jones drew a lot of blood from Homura-chan and injected her magnets in me. We’ve been a bit... mingled since then. We feel each other’s emotions, the pain, even some thoughts... Probably because she’s partly outside of her body. It might be because she lost too much magnets. Please don’t give me that look! I know that it’s very dangerous to your ilk... and I know that it’s been a long time for you... but it just happened yesterday for us! Walbey is waiting at the University, he can examine her, but we’ll have to return to our Mitakihara to get there!”Kyouko sat silent, her eyes fixed on Madoka. She had a good deal to think about.“I feel sorry for Homura.”, she said after a minute of silence. “She had way more than her share. It’s good that you’re there for her. I have something else to worry about.”“What’s that?”“You. I’ve already said that I can’t imagine the other Madoka skin alive Akuma Homura. But I don’t know what would that other Homura do to you if we got caught. I know what you think about her but I’m afraid that she’s completely insane.”Madoka took a deep breath. Kyouko, counting on a long monologue, grabbed a Pocky with her teeth and started to play with it. Madoka didn’t mind, she knew that this time it’s a sign of the redhead’s attention.“Because you don’t know Homura-chan well enough. Of course you know a lot about her, but there are things she won’t show to you. You know all too well what media tells about her – when they care about us at all, I mean. When this whole mess with magical girls and witches became public Homura-chan’s story suddenly got very popular. Then they started to write articles that made her look like a creepy stalker who stops time to grope me and steal my panties and they pitied the hell out of me for being with a pervert who was just using me.”“I do remember... I’m glad that Mami took over the PR...”, Kyouko sighed. “I’ve always hated publicity but those idiots had really gone too far! I’d happily send all these fucking slanders into a labyrinth to let them scribble their bullshit to the witch. She would surely give them the reward they deserve!”“But the main thing is”, the pinkette went on, “that they’re all horribly wrong. It’s true that Homura-chan would do almost anything for me. But they don’t seem to realize that they’ve turned everything upside down. They have no idea how vulnerable Homura-chan is. It wrenches my heart to think about what she’d do should something happen to me. Or the things I could do to her should I be a worse person.”Kyouko would have had a few ideas for her about those things but a look at Madoka’s dead serious face stopped her from grinning.“There are things they better not know.”, she said nodding her head understandingly. “Looks like Jones realized and nothing good came of that... Don’t worry, Madoka, I’ll keep my mouth shut. Isn’t that what friends are for?”She pulled out another Pocky and handed it to Madoka. It felt better to talk while they both were chewing something.“But, back to your concern... it’s not groundless at all. Even I couldn’t get my head around why Homura-chan didn’t seem to worry about me, it just... wasn’t like her. We had a talk about it while you were away and she said that you weren’t wrong at all when you compared them to the two of us. She told me how she connected this other Homura back in Hochfeld and she’s perfectly sure that she just couldn’t have done any harm to me, even as the witch she was. She said that she’s positive that I’m safe. And it’s more than enough for me.”Kyouko had just finished her Pocky and she seemed to have finished the conversation too.“Whatever, you know her better. You should go back to look after Homura. You won’t see each other for a while, after all. I’ll stay here until ten. Then Sayaka checks in and I’ll have to be there for the night watch. Try to get some sleep. It’s been difficult for the devil lately, we may wake up in a new time tomorrow. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Hopeless Masquerade v0.911 The three girls were hiding in the bushes, watching the students as they walked to school. Everything was peaceful, the only unusual thing was only visible through the UN/VP standard issue binoculars they passed from hand to hand: Akuma Homura’s spooky child familiars gleefully ran up and down the path then stopped under a tree to sponge apples from the other Kyouko who was sitting among the branches feeding the birds. The binoculars were just passed to Madoka when Kyouko warned her:“Madoka, it’s time to get ready. You’re about to see yourself appear at the corner. Sayaka is going to reach Homura at the same time. I haven’t told her too much but I don’t even need to. When a new cycle begins she always knows what Homura has done and they always get into a quarrel. Of course Homura clears her brain after that so we’ll have to talk with her again. But it’s our problem. You just have to run as fast as you can when you see Oktavia. We’ll follow you and hijack the other Madoka. You can leave the binoculars here, we’ll pick them up later. We’re going to pick up Sayaka too in the afternoon, she’ll be fine for now.”When Madoka looked into the binoculars the children were already gone followed by the other Kyouko’s perplexed gaze. Then Madoka aimed her telescopic gaze at the table in the middle of the path. She couldn’t see the details from this distance but she knew who was sitting under the parasol: that person was wearing a school uniform and her long black hair fluttered in the wind. Miki Sayaka stopped behind her and started talking to her.“Ten seconds to go!”, Kyouko whispered to the pink haired girl.She was right: while the other Homura remained perfectly calm, Sayaka’s gestures became angrier. As she straightened her back the torso of the mermaid witch emerged from the river. Madoka did as Kyouko told: she dropped the binoculars, dashed to her parallel then began to walk by her side. The other Madoka’s eyes widened in surprise but she didn’t even have the time react, she got dragged to the bushes by both hands.The shock silenced her, but her assailants covered her mouth anyway.“We mean no harm to you but we don’t need any attention either. Please come with us quietly.”, her kidnappers whispered in her ear. Two girls, somewhat taller and older than Madoka. The larger one had fiery hair slightly past her shoulders, most of it tied in a ponytail. The shorter one wore an incredible flow of silky raven hair which split in two in an astonishing swallowtail. They were dressed in identical grey camouflage uniforms and they seemed to have firearms too – but Madoka could only catch a glimpse of their faces.They escorted her away from the busy neighborhood of the school to a deserted riverbank, right below a bridge. The redhead took a bobby pin from her hair and opened the iron door on the side of the pier. Madoka could see two bunk beds, a table, a fridge and a few shelves inside. There was an open laptop on the table showing the classroom where she should have already arrived. Madoka guessed that the camera was smuggled in by her surrogate. Her surrogate, who looked exactly like her...They seated her before the display and the redhead offered Pockys to her. The other leaned against the wall, crooked and panting. Madoka rejected the sweets and turned her eyes away from the sick girl too. She should have been in school where that impostor sat surrounded by her classmates, answering a torrent of curious questions in her stead, questions she couldn’t hear through the muted computer.“Who are you and what do you want from me?”, she finally asked as she gathered her courage. “It would have been my first day at this school, I hardly know anyone there, I’m not famous and not important to anyone except for my parents. You still took the effort to look up my double, train her to substitute me then kidnap me. Why did you go such lengths? I don’t understand a thing!”“My name is Akemi Homura.”, the pale, black haired beauty answered in measured tones. With great exertion she pushed herself away from the wall and flipped her gorgeous hair back. Madoka could see a dark hairband adorning her head. “And my friend here is Sakura Kyouko. The girl who went to school in your stead didn’t need to be looked for and she isn’t a mere look-alike of yours. She’s your alter ego from a parallel universe, the same world we’re from. We have our parallels here too, they are in your very class. You’ll see my alternative a lot because she’s our main target. You don’t know right now, but she’s the one you’re more important for than anything in this world. We brought you here because it’s vital that you remember something even we don’t fully know: who you really are.”Dark thoughts troubled Madoka. These girls had nothing to do with her, but they wanted something from the other Homura whom she didn’t even know. Could they be... assassins? Or, perhaps... she felt something strange as she looked at the dark haired girl’s face. She was a bit older than her and strangely familiar.“Have we ever met before?”, she vaguely asked.„Yes, we’ve all met. It wasn’t even too long ago, just a few days to us. Someone connected these two faraway worlds then we fought together for a few hours. But you have a real history with the other Homura. You’ve probably spent years together.”“And I came here to share some vital knowledge to you.”, Kyouko said. “But somehow I lost my way after the worlds parted. We were in Africa on the other side and I arrived in Africa in this universe too. And by the time I got back here it was already late. I can tell you what I wanted to say when you remember, even though you possibly won’t even need it then. But please listen them for now, any word can help you get your memories back.”Then she turned up the volume. Madoka’s stand-in spoke on the other side, in a confused tone.“Homura...-chan...? Why are you showing me around?”“How does it feel to be back, after so long?”, the other girl asked from outside the frame. She probably walked next to the decoy Madoka.“Strange... Everything’s familiar and... almost nostalgic. But also kind of different somehow... If I had to pick the one thing that had changed, I’d say it was me...”“Madoka, are you trying to expose us?!”, Kyouko hissed and picked up the microphone.“Leave her! She knows what she’s doing! I trust her. Didn’t you show yesterday that she usually says such things? Just look!”, the dark haired girl pointed at the abducted Madoka who stared hypnotized at the screen. She could finally get a glimpse of the other Homura too: she was almost the exact copy of her older version, with the exception of the frightening dark circles around her lavender eyes. She looked weary, on the verge of collapsing. Madoka concluded that there was something wrong with both Homuras.“Every time I see her she looks worse...”, Kyouko remarked. “Except for the first time when she was a witch, of course...”“I think I should be somewhere else, in some different world... but now I have to be here with you, Homura-chan.”The girl with dark rimmed eyes covered the whole screen as she took the other in her arms.“It’s okay, everything’s all right. You don’t have to worry. You’re exactly where you should be, Madoka!”, they heard her dampened voice through the covered microphone.“But... so many people need me... So many are looking for me...”Kyouko whistled with respect.“This girlfriend of yours blows my mind! She must have had long talks with the Incubators! She keeps lying while telling the truth all along! But she shouldn’t go too far. Something might happen to her... Oh, and you should tell me more later about those baldies that are looking for you two... But let it be another day’s problem.”“Madoka hates to lie. I don’t even know if she can, I haven’t heard her telling a single lie for the last six years.”, Homura answered.The younger Madoka was now staring at them.“Girlfriend...? You mean Homura-chan and I...?”, she blushed.“You bet!”, Kyouko grinned. “You two are attached at the hip! Just ask Homura where she lives!”The raven haired girl quickly gestured her to silence.“But you two are different people. You had different lives. I only know what that tired eyed girl has been through to save you. Then there was a point where you did something else yet similar to what my... our Madoka did. You gave your life to give hope to others. We’d like you to remember this choice.”Madoka’s eyes sparkled with curiosity.“What did I do? I thought I’ve never done anything meaningful in my life, just went from school to school as my mom had to move to new cities because of her job. I’ve always wanted to do something... that matters. To help others...”The pair of pink eyes looked in the distance.“Do you treasure this world so much? Do you value its order and stability more than your own desires?”, the dark haired girl on the other side of the screen asked. Madoka fixed gaze on the display again. Flecks of golden light began to dance in her eyes.“How could I be here if I didn’t, Homura-chan?”, the surrogate Madoka asked in reply.“Of course. We could as well go home and leave them in this mess...”, Kyouko nodded.“You couldn’t.”, Homura corrected. ”Only Madoka can take us out of here. We’ll have to get her some Cortexiphan because even she can’t without it. Unless, of course, Madokami sends us back home.”The younger Madoka listened intently but didn’t comment on the name they called her.“You’re so strange, Madoka...”, they heard from the speaker. “But, maybe because of it, I fear the day when I’ll be your enemy. But even then I’ll continue to wish for a world in which you will be happy!”The tired eyed girl took the red ribbons out of her hair and tied Madoka’s tresses in twin tails. She was close to bursting into tears in the process then she almost fell into the camera face first. In her embrace Madoka decided not to try too hard to draw forth her younger parallel’s memories. And she really felt sorry for this other Homura. She was unimaginably powerful but she just suffered timidly reaching for Madoka behind the mask of the demon. She reminded Madoka of the Homura she knew, from back then. The one that had struggled the same way in that senseless time loop. This Devil girl had made a colossal mistake without question. Every Homura seemed prone to make big mistakes when they felt Madoka in danger. But Madoka couldn’t even imagine her being malicious... except, probably, toward the Incubators. This time she really couldn’t say anything and she couldn’t feel angry with her, not even on her parallel’s behalf.“Homura-chan...”, she whispered and hugged the other girl. She stayed silent while her hands unwittingly started to braid the long loose raven tresses.“I felt... something.”, the abducted Madoka mumbled on the other side of the screen. “I could have said the same...”“I believe you.”, she turned to red and black team behind her back. “I even start to get why you couldn’t tell me who I am. It just doesn’t work like that, does it?”“Would have you believed me if I just had told you that you’re a god?”, Kyouko asked.“...And what if I’d said that my alter ego took your godly powers and sealed you in this gilded cage? Would have you trusted me then?”, Homura added. “Damnit, I don’t even know how it is possible...!”“So it was her who took my memories...?”, Madoka asked in surprise. “But she saved me earlier... I can thank her for what I’ve become... Why did she bring me back here to live like it never happened? This way she’s become a stranger to me again...! Poor Homura-chan...!”She shook her head in disbelief while her eyes glowed in golden light.“I really don’t know what should I do with her!”She bowed her head immersed in her thoughts and closed her eyes that returned to pink in the meantime.“There’s something you should keep in mind, Madoka, because you apparently forgot about it in the past: you become responsible forever for what you’ve tamed.”Homura eyed the floor with a complexion that put Kyouko’s hair in shame. The redhead acknowledged her embarrassment with a content grin. Madoka was a bit upset with her but she saw the truth in her words.“The Little Prince.”, the red-haired girl said as if nothing had happened. “You wouldn’t have thought that I began to read books, would you? But I almost knocked my head against the wall when I watched the same dull math lesson for the twentieth time! Seriously, Homura, how could you stomach it? Thankfully these mysterious bridge-repairers seem to have boring jobs too so they left a whole little library in this room. But the main thing is, Madoka, that I think you bit off a little more than you could chew. It’s very nice that you wanted to save everyone. But you seem to have let that one Homura slip out of your hands... Open those glittering eyes of yours already and realize how that miserable gal feels...!”Kyouko wanted to say more but she just gave a resigned wave instead.“Goddamnit, I can’t even be harsh with you... You have no idea how long I have wanted to tell some home truths to a god. You know, a priest’s daughter can claim such a privilege. And now that we’ve met I can’t even properly scold you...”While speaking she carefully watched the Goddess’ face. Her words seemed to hit the mark, she could see the yellowish glow in the pink eyes. She hoped that they could awaken her before Akuma Homura would find out the trick...“Good that Sayaka isn’t here...”, she sighed after a short pause. ”She finds it way too funny... She’s always trying to imagine me in a Miko outfit, no matter how many times I tell her that my old man led a Neo-Christian cult...”They stayed together in the maintenance room all morning. The lessons were uneventful, everything they wanted to see happened during the breaks. Their Madoka even talked to Sayaka once and they saw the signs of Akuma Homura’s disapproval, but the Devil did nothing to disturb them. She did nothing much anyway, just stayed close to Madoka - and the pinkette always found a way to aim the camera at her. It began to look like Madoka was stalking the poor devil, not the other way around. Kyouko couldn’t help warning her.“Madoka, our job is not to compromise her but to free her! Just act natural! She won’t do anything interesting if she’s not with you anyway.”In the distant school Homura’s head snapped up and she seemed to glare right into their eyes through the display but she calmed down in the end. In the very moment she turned away Kyouko disconnected the microphone and locked it away.But she couldn’t keep it there for too long – she had to lend it to the amnesiac goddess soon. The stand-in Madoka could finally get away from her dark haired shadow and ‘her’ family and sat down in her parallel’s room. She tried to put the other Madoka’s things and her thoughts in order. She was shocked to see how seriously the poor Homura could break herself. A strangely familiar voice woke her from this thought."Hi, Madoka! It's Madoka here.”, the doubly abducted deity greeted her. ”I'd like you to do something for me. It would be an evening walk. There’s a trail at the end of our street. You probably know it too. It leads right up to the park on Broken Hill. Please wait until my parents fall asleep then go to the hilltop. I believe that place is called Silver Garden. I remember that we often meet with Homura-chan there. I feel that it’s important that you find her there. Important enough that we should be somewhere around there too.”Then she was alone again, encompassed by heavy silence. Of course she knew the hill and the park, only the names were new to her.She fumbled in her wardrobe for something to wear and found a grey skirt and a pink cardigan for the cool evening. Then she just sat there for a while staring straight ahead. This role play would possibly come to an end earlier than she had expected. The Goddess who had been a helpless little girl a few hours ago seemed quite confident now.She took a deep breath and went down to the kitchen to have dinner with her family. She tried to behave like she wasn’t even there, she knew that she should have had a lot of common forged memories with ‘her’ family. All the time she had the unpleasant feeling that ‘her’ parents knew that the one eating with them wasn’t their daughter. She had probably never had such an awkward dinner before. She might have feared the end of this masquerade before – but now she longed for it. She pretended going to sleep then got up as soon as the house grew silent. She put the prepared clothes on and sneaked through the front door. She suspected that the others had just left too, so she walked slowly to leave them enough time to take their posts.As she roamed the empty streets she imagined hearing footsteps, whispering, stifled giggles. From time to time she turned around, but she could never see anyone. Jones’ murderers came to her mind, the mysterious children she could only see through the VP binoculars this morning. She was quite positive that she was safer guarded by Akuma Homura’s familiars than she could have been in the middle of a JSDF base, yet she shivered at the thought.As she left the street behind and began to tread the twisty trail she understood the name of the hill and why it wasn’t called the same way in her own world. In the Mitakihara she had grown up in there was an orderly, round hill here. But half of this hill was missing, like it was literally broken in two by a ravine. And someone was standing up on the peak, at the edge of the abyss. Madoka quickened her pace.She stopped panting on the grassy hilltop, surrounded by silverberry trees. That someone was really Homura, leaping and spinning in trance on the clearing. The street lights and the moon played on her ebony hair and ivory skin carving a fantastic living picture of light and shade in the grayish night. Her low-cut dress was made of thin darkness, seemingly on the verge of peeling off her childlike curves, bony wings with black feathers graced her exposed back. Dirty white bundle of rags laid shivering at her feet: an Incubator. The miserable creature crowned the insane ballet in which Homura danced her entire life. Then the girl stopped at the edge of the cliff, tiptoeing on one foot in a circle of lamplight. Her eyes met Madoka’s while her lips curved into a mischievous little smile. She bowed deeply and gracefully, spread her arms and wings then leaned back, right into the gaping abyss behind her. As if on cue, the Incubator sprang up and flew from the hill in panic.“Homura-chan!”Madoka couldn’t help yelling. She ran to the edge where the other girl had just been standing, but there was no one around and no body down at the foot of the cliff, just a bunch of black feathers floating in midair. Her eyes scanned the skyline in hope of seeing Homura in-flight. Then all of a sudden a pair of thin arms in black gloves shot over her shoulders and embraced her from behind.“Are you scared, Madoka?”, the demon whispered in her ears in a seductive tone. “Don’t fear for me, I can’t die! I’m impossible, just like you... but what are you doing here in the night?”“I was looking for you. I was worried.”, the pinkette answered.”...for me?”, Homura asked in reply. “You don’t even know me. You’re merely being kind, too kind. It must be your nature. Poor devil, she must be suffering in her own hell. Poor devil, she must have broken her every bone. This was what you thought, wasn’t it? But my bones are fine, nothing’s broken but my heart, Ma-do-ka...”Homura’s embrace tightened, Madoka felt the other girl’s tiny breasts pressing against her back through their clothes.“Homura-chan, you’re really scaring me...”“It’s just natural. I’m not the one who used to be by your side. I’ve changed, and the whole world changed with me. Can you see the moon? It won’t ever be full. It’s like me... I’ll forever hunger for my Madoka whom I imprisoned.The surrogate Goddess hoped that her other self heard these elusive yet straightforward words. They must have been cryptic and crazy for her, but probably the exact ones she needed to hear. Then Homura suddenly let go of her shoulders, stepped around her and looked straight into her eyes.“Madoka... I can still call you like this, can’t I?”She flashed a mocking smile at the sight of pupils contracting into dark pinpoints in the pink sea of the other girl’s eyes.“Did you really believe that I wouldn’t notice? You tried to fool me? I spent a third of my life meeting Madoka after Madoka! And, believe me, I’ve observed each one very carefully. But you aren’t alone, are you? I was curious what you were up to so I’ve been waiting... I might be late by now... I might be not... But who cares?”She cast an unhinged grin at the other girl while purple runes danced and popped in the air around her. They horrified Madoka who couldn’t help reading them. “Kill me!” “I’ve had enough!” “Glory to Death!”Homura raised her hands and clapped. Red and grey fruit fell out of a nearby tree: it was Sakura Kyouko. Three familiars stood behind her, nudging her to feet with their long needles while two other children laughed at her from above. Then Sayaka, the second Homura and the golden eyed Madoka stepped out of the bushes, followed by more children with needles and their own confiscated guns held at their backs. Now the girls could observe them all too well: Akuma Homura’s elite soldiers were dolls in funeral dresses, with rosy paint on their faces and pointy teeth. They were all unique pieces with different hair styles and dresses, even their height wasn’t the same.The demon clapped again, but this clap wasn’t a command to her army but a mere compliment to the four girls. She gracefully danced around them. One by one she put a finger under their chins and stared into their eyes. Her voice trembled as she spoke.“I can’t believe how long arms you have! You never cease to surprise me. Madoka, you sacrificed yourself when I gave up at Walpurgisnacht and saved me. Then I built a labyrinth, but you four dragged me out of there too. Even a whole new world wasn’t enough to hide from you. Leave me alone already! Can’t you realize how hideous thing I’ve done?! Madoka trusted me so I betrayed her. She was majestic so I stripped her from her power. She was clean so I dragged her down to the dirt! I made a mockery of the world she loved so much! I deserve no mercy! I don’t even ask for it, just for a nook to hide and watch Madoka... I want to see her happy at last, to see this miserable world giving her all the good things she deserves! To see her live without sacrificing herself in her foolish selflessness! Madoka, I know that you want a normal life here, down on Earth! You said yourself that you’d suffer out there alone! Now everyone’s here, even I’m here, I play for you as you wish!”She was already shouting at this point. She collapsed from the strain, leaning on her dark gloved hands in the grass to keep herself from falling even deeper.“Schauspielerin!”, the dolls assessed her acting. They burst into jeering and pelted her with tomatoes. Madoka couldn’t stand it anymore. She pushed aside her guardians and stepped in front of Homura to protect her from the raining vegetables. Her eyes glowed with a yellow light of pity and anger.“Madoka, for goodness sake, what are you doing?!”, the demon sobbed. “Stop it, be selfish at once, at least a little!”The next glint of the Goddess’ eyes could be seen even from behind.“But I am selfish, Homura-chan...! I protect what’s mine!”The dolls dropped the tomatoes in terror and raised their hands to their mouths. Then they saluted to Madoka with their long needles as she helped their Mistress to her feet. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Demystify Feast v0.91 All the four “resistance fighters” were standing in front of the familiar house on the next evening. They waited for Homura to recover after the barely kilometer-long walk then Madoka rang the doorbell. She wasn’t exactly sure that her home’s key wouldn’t open this door but it would have been impolite to simply drop in the house.“Homura-chan, could you open the door?”, they heard from the inside. A few moments later they could enter. They could only see Akuma Homura’s back for a moment as she instantly slipped back to the kitchen.“What the hell is wrong with her?”, Kyouko asked staring where she disappeared.“Don’t you understand?”, Homura asked in reply. “It’s simple. She feels guilty for setting her goons upon us. Just look how much she’ll tremble before Madoka for her play last night...”They found the runaway demon with Tomohisa and Madokami. The three were wearing aprons, decorating a huge cake. Father and daughter seemed having fun while Homura focused on her job with a timid smile. The newcomer Madoka watched her and remembered her home six years ago. Her desperate savior, the honored dead of the great Mitakihara battle had taken the way her family treated her with the same shy disbelief. Just like this Devil who turned the whole world upside down with her infinite power. It did not seem to matter what had Homura been through, she remained herself.The demon’s double felt someone tugging the leg of her pants. She looked down and saw the little brother of this world’s Madoka.“Maroka, two devils!”, the child laughed. Homura smiled and stroked his messy hair.Junko stepped into the kitchen stylishly dressed and directed her son to his father. Then she took a careful but completely unsurprised look at her guests. Apparently Madokami had prepared her family well. The others left to change their clothes and Tomohisa took Takkun with him.“So this is what you look like when you aren’t substituting my daughter!”, Junko glared at Madoka with narrow eyes. Then, without warning, she burst into laughter.“I see you won’t ever catch up to me! How old are you? Twenty?” she asked the pinkette who was still shorter than her. “You may scold your father for not feeding you properly!”Then she looked Homura up and down with a grin.“You know what? You can put him in his place too! You’re just as skinny as my Madoka is tiny! You look exactly like this poor ‘devil’... But, it seems, you got better otherwise.”Junko’s grin had already disappeared by now, she talked seriously to the dark haired girl.“I’m glad to see. Our Homura looks so disturbed, no surprise that Madoka won’t let her go! I’ve never seen her like this, she defends her to the end... I start to believe that our daughter has really become something else. But I also know that this is how we raised her. You reap what you sow, don’t you? We have room for Homura, we’d just like to fix her... Do you live with Madoka’s family too? How did they treat you?”Her question embarrassed the raven haired girl. How could she tell the things that happened to her in the Kaname household? Would she help the other Homura by telling? They were similar, yet different... Madoka saw her trouble and helped her out.“Just forget that you have gods living in your house! Everything Homura-chan needs is a normal life with a normal family, because she never had one. She needs you all. Mom and dad have always been great at it and I’m sure that you’ll be great too! You should have seen Homura-chan after she spent two months frozen in amber! Believe me, she was just as broken.”“It’s funny... I expected that one day you’d give me advice, but I’d have never imagined that this day would arrive so soon...”, Junko sighed. “Thank you, Madoka.”Then she hugged Homura.“Life isn’t always fair. I don’t think that any you would have deserved to suffer so much. But you’re right, this is why you have a family standing by you.”“She’ll may protest, but she needs it...”, Homura said, still embarrassed. She felt strangely awkward in another Junko’s arms, like the comforting hug was meant for someone else.“Good. We’ll give her share of this too! Won’t us, sweetheart?”, she turned to her husband who just got back to the kitchen.“We’ll do what?”, he asked cheerfully.“Fix Homura-chan!”“Of course!”, Tomohisa nodded.Kyouko came next. Junko patted her shoulder for her firm handshake.“So you’re Sakura Kyouko. My daughter hasn’t brought any of you yet, but don’t feel shut out of the fun!”She seated the three girls and poured four shots of whisky then quickly swallowed hers.“Stop sulking, Sayaka! You can join us in a few years!”, she laughed ruffling her fourth guest’s blue hair.“I had my first drink at your age!”, Madoka teased.“Oh, really?”, Junko shot a surprised look at her. Her daughter had always obeyed this rule to the letter - but still, a shadow of a doubt crossed the woman’s mind.“It was Mom who offered me the drink.”, Madoka added. “I had a terrible hangover next day.”“Then I don’t think it’s a lighthearted story...”, Junko eyed her empty glass.“It happened that night when Homura-chan stayed in the amber at the place we just call Walpurgis Memorial. We all thought that she died or even worse. And I knew that she did it for me and that she had no other choice, she couldn’t have lasted another day anyway. She had struggled for years to save me then when she finally succeeded she was doomed. No one should have to endure what she felt...”“Was this after Walpurgisnacht?”, the returning Madokami asked. She had probably let her hair down with some mysterious magic because it flowed longer than that of Homura – but she stuck to her twin tails and bows. Her long dress was white and frilly and the inside of the skirt seemed to reflect the Universe itself. Her eyes glowed in golden light. She entered hand in hand with Akuma Homura who wore the same costume as last evening on the hilltop but hid her wings.“I’m still not sure what to think about this girl.”, Junko admitted to her guests. “These are quite daring clothes for such a timid little mouse. And the things my Madoka told about her... Anyhow, this dress just doesn’t suit her.”“It can’t be helped, Mom! That outfit belongs to her, just like this white one belongs to me. And yes, I think that it’s cute! Don’t say bad things about Homura-chan! She’s a good girl.”“You drag her home like a stray kitten and defend her with tooth and nail, then you say she’s the Devil herself, and now she’s a good girl...! Madoka, you really don’t make your mother’s life easy! At least you should have given her a pair of socks to stuff that dress a little...”, Junko laughed.“I change back to my uniform...”, Akuma Homura mumbled deeply blushed and turned back. Junko looped a friendly but firm arm around her shoulder and didn’t let her run off.“Oh, come on! Have a little confidence! Madoka loves you the way you are, what else can matter? Don’t listen to the ramblings of an eccentric old hag! I can only wish to be as young and beautiful as you!”“But Kaname-san... you are still so beautiful!”, the girl answered with downcast eyes. She just couldn’t figure Madoka’s mother out.“You didn’t say that I’m young!”, Junko laughed. “I’m too old even for the Devil!”The pink-eyed Madoka giggled. She didn’t even know why she turned to her alter ego.“You know, Madoka, my Homura-chan was exactly like her and I introduced her the very same way: a good girl. Right after she confessed some very steep things from an earlier timeline.”“I don’t even know which Homura-chan is the bigger devil!”, the yellow eyed girl winked. She knew everything they did for the two of her, she saw the city one Homura burned up (it would have been ruined by Walpurgis very soon) and the world the other turned upside down (the Incubators had already been preparing to take it over from Madoka), and she felt everything they felt. Even though she had no intention to hurt them she found teasing the too serious, too sad girls strangely amusing.Now the two black haired girls were equally embarrassed. Each Madoka cupped the cheek of her Homura and gently comforted her. Kyouko hadn’t found them so funny since her two friends could finally bring themselves to admit that they really loved each other – but seeing them in duplicate was just too much. She found their identical gestures immensely amusing and she wasn’t the only one.“Talking about outfits... Is this some kind of uniform?”, Tomohisa asked her daughter’s alter ego when she sat down again. The guests couldn’t help coming in their grey camouflage uniforms, Kyouko’s was quite worn at that – but they could at least clean them in the river.„Something like that. I don’t know what Madoka told you about them, but we are the magical girls of our world. At least we’d like to be the only ones, because the real ones are dying. So we took on the task of witch hunting and fixing time-space anomalies.”, Madoka answered. “We just need a little sensitivity to magic. Homura-chan and Kyouko-chan had been magical girls before they joined. I hadn’t but I have some natural talent so I don’t need anything but a little Cortexiphan before missions. Oh, and we try to save as many girls as we can before they could turn into witches!”It had all been true before the Observers arrived... but she didn’t want to mention them on this beautiful evening.“So you’re a bit like our Madoka.”“A little bit.”Madoka and Homura found their other selves and both pairs asked each other curiously about their life and world. They learned that they had followed the same path for a long time, then they took a different turn at a very distinct point of time. As magical girls they couldn’t break free from the Incubators’ trap, but one Madoka found a wish to overturn their system. The other Homura kept fighting - but for the first time in many years she asked for and received help from where she hadn’t even expected.Now that she thought it over Homura froze in the middle of a sentence. She didn’t understand how the memory could emerge so suddenly and how it could hide until now. It was bright and clean just like in a flash of lightning. She recalled the whole scene as she had seen - then forgotten.“Impossible! I can’t believe it...! Listen, Homura, I can’t tell you now, but I think I remembered what happened at that point! I know why we are still human while you two became gods! I know that you’d be happier if Madoka had stayed human, but you really shouldn’t! I’ll tell you everything after dinner!”The meal was great, just as they expected from Tomohisa – any Tomohisa. After the exquisitely creamy strawberry cake (which naturally reminded both Homuras of the magical Madoka) Junko showed the guests around and offered them to spend the night in the house telling that Sayaka had already had sleepovers there before they moved to America. The house was almost like they remembered, except for a few things things that were still in boxes.“You may use this room. Unfortunately it’s still a bit empty but we have a few spare futons.”, Junko opened an apparently unused chamber. “It’ll be Homura’s room, but it’s still lacking furniture.”“This is hers in our house too.”, said the uniformed Madoka. “But she doesn’t use it too much, she’s always with me.”They shared a smile, hands intertwined.One by one they all took a shower and gathered in Madoka’s room.“Sorry, mom, we’d like to discuss a few things among ourselves...”, the golden eyed goddess said, now in pajamas.“Well, well, are you plotting some mischief? Maybe you really have the Devil among you!”, she pinched her daughter’s cheek.“It’s a magical girl conspiracy!”, Madokami laughed.“Then you should definitely keep Sayaka here as she’s the only magical girl in your company, correct?”“Well... She’s almost one.”, the Goddess archly admitted.The girls pushed two low tables together and sat around them.“Come, Homura-chan!”, Madokami patted the pillow next to her. Akuma Homura quickly took her place. The Goddess smiled, tugged her closer and began to stroke her dark, flowing tresses.Sayaka gritted her teeth at the sight. Her chaotic memories from the many disordered timelines proved stronger than her recent experience.“Hands off of her you demon!”, she snapped at the raven haired girl. “I know what you’re up to! You entice her, put her off guard then seal her away again, this time together with Kyouko and everyone else so no one can free her anymore!”Madoka and Homura from the other world froze. They hadn’t yet seen her like this. She had been a pain in the neck for Homura in the time loop, but they considered this other Sayaka way more level-headed. Now she thoroughly ruined her ‘wiser version’ image. Kyouko frowned at her but kept silent: she thought that this time the other Madoka should take care of things.“I-I don’t! I swear I won’t ever do such things again, Miki-san!”, Akuma Homura vowed, taken off guard by the sudden attack. Sayaka angrily bit her lower lip. That devil was playing the pigtailed-bespectacled schoolgirl again, just like in her labyrinth...“Shut up you traitor! You’re doing it only because you know that Madoka can’t resist when you’re like this! Beware, Madoka, she’s not as innocent as she pretends!”“Sayaka-chan!”, the Goddess furrowed her brows in anger. “Homura-chan did nothing at all! In case you haven’t noticed, it was me who called her here!”She ostentatiously hugged the startled raven haired girl. This time something really snapped inside Sayaka.“Because this is exactly how demons work! She slyly gets close to you and will control you before you’d realize!”“Come here, Sayaka-chan!”, Madokami ordered strictly. Then her voice softened as she saw how much she scared Sayaka. “I think you still don’t remember everything... but I can help you. You don’t have to be afraid. I won’t hurt you, even if you keep angry with Homura-chan, but I can’t let you unfairly judge her!”Then she placed her hand hand on Sayaka’s forehead. Memories flashed in the blunette’s head as she fell toward the floor. She couldn’t even sense when she hit the ground.“Kyubey tricked us all!”“I’m sorry, Miki-san...”“I wanted to handle things before Kyubey got to Kaname Madoka, but it can’t be helped now.”“At this rate you just make Madoka suffer even more! Then I might as well kill you right now, Miki Sayaka!”“N-not me! I am... the pumpkin!”“So you’re saying that the person who wished for this situation is one of us?”“The world is in working order, the law is still in effect. All I took was a tiny piece of it. Just the records of the person that Kaname Madoka had been before she ceased to exist.”“Sayaka, are you okay?”The blue haired girl felt a hand on her shoulder. She shook her head to clear up her vision. As the blur began to dissolve she saw a pair of worried violet eyes. Why did it have to be Homura? The demon cast a carefully calculated troubled look at her and addressed her in an unusually friendly manner. This time she targeted her... Then again, she might have really been trying to make peace... Sayaka had a thousand reasons to be angry with her, but she had to admit that Homura had payed dearly for her sins – even before she could commit them. Sayaka sighed and accepted her helping hand.“All right...! But I’ll keep an eye on you, transfer student!”She shook her head at the dark haired girl’s thankful gaze. It had been so much simpler to just place her on an imaginary shelf in an imaginary jar with a black label of ‘Evil’... or, even before that, with another label saying: ‘Nuts’. She hoped that she would eventually find the correct label for the errant creature. Perhaps a grey or smeary one, as she couldn’t find any black or white fit her...When they took their seats again Madokami looked around with an apologetic smile.“I’m sorry, I’d like to see this world all right... And where should I start if not at this very table?”“But why are you two here to begin with?” The lamplight sharply flashed on Kyouko’s fang. “I mean we’re cheerfully having a dinner in your parents’ house instead of meeting somewhere in space, or on a mountaintop or something like that... you’re gods after all...”“You know, Homura-chan was right in one thing.”, the middle schooler goddess answered. “I was really longing for a normal, simple life here on Earth. If I had been as conscious as I am now I’d have been very lonely. And even the way I was I missed my parents and my friends. I missed Homura-chan. Poor girl, while she was with me I couldn’t see the struggle she had been through for me. And when I finally saw everything we had to part ways... But now, we can be together again, thanks to you. If you need us you can always find us here. We’ll always be here for you and any magical girl who is, was, will be in need. We meddled with space-time a bit so this house will stay like this forever. Now that there’s two of us our job’s much easier so we can take some rest once in a while.”“Then, I think, you don’t need...”, Kyouko began.“No, Kyouko-chan. There won’t be any witches in this world anymore. We’ll be on guard until the Universe cools down in the end. What we don’t wait too eagerly, so you can say that the Incubators work for us in this new world.”, Madokami blushed a little. “But Homura-chan keeps them on a short leash, she won’t let anyone suffer just to postpone the heat death of our Universe! But what about your world? I don’t know too much, but I’ve heard that you all are in big trouble...”“Madoka! The other Homura told me that she found out something very important!”, the Devil cut in, her gaze fixed on her Goddess. Then she turned to her alter ego. “This is what you wanted to talk about, isn’t it?”“Yes.”, the older Homura replied. “It seems that someone tampered with my brain too, because I couldn’t possibly forget such an important thing by myself! It’s about that certain 96th attempt, if I didn’t mess up counting...”, she looked back at her parallel.“It hadn’t ever been so hard before. It seriously crossed my mind to give up. I had run out of my month, I couldn’t stop time anymore and Walpurgis hit me full on with a building. I was lying in the debris, my splintered leg stuck under a huge concrete chunk. And I knew that I’d have just hurt Madoka if I had kept trying. My soul gem was pitch black. I was defeated. I closed my eyes and waited for Madoka to make her wish. I waited for a good while and nothing happened so I warily looked around, just to realize that I was in still time, even though I couldn’t stop it anymore. A bald man was crouching in front of me, one of those very Observers, and he was pricking needles in the concrete chunk on my leg. * “It can possibly distract your judgment.”, the man said in a toneless voice. Homura was watching apathetically as he placed the last needle. Then a single touch of a button on his PDA and the concrete chunk simply evaporated. The stranger straightened the girl’s leg and ran the contraption along to her feet. The pain was gone in a few seconds, but Homura didn’t care.“I only used peripheral nerve blocking. Your leg is still broken.”It was the same otherworldly, monotonic voice, the same empty face, like he really wasn’t human. He might have not been.Then he checked her eyes very closely with a blinding flashlight. Indifferent grey look met a broken purple. When he made sure that the girl could understand him he finally began his speech.“Your mission is important for our... future. We decided to let you change timelines. At this point we can not afford letting you give up so I have been authorized to share certain details of your future with you. We have a new... assignment for you. And new hope.”Floating images appeared before her eyes, recordings about four people: an old and a young man, a white and a creole woman.“You have to contact these persons. They are capable of solving... your problem.”The corner of Homura’s mouth curled up a little. This stone faced stranger just couldn’t understand. At least it was a bit funny. Another drop of blood trickled down her face, slightly tickling. Everything she remembered from her life was hiding behind that stoic mask, and sometimes, only sometimes, crying to Madoka. It didn’t feel too bad to die smiling after all...“See you in my labyrinth...”, she whispered what she meant to be her last words. With the last of her strength she raised her hand showing him the pitch black magical jewel.The hatted man took her hand and examined the stone’s swirling darkness very carefully. The girl’s lavender eyes widened as he took a grief seed out of his pocket and touched it against her soul gem without so much as a blink. He held it there until the gem shined brighter than any time Homura had cleaned it, no matter how many grief seeds she used. She saw the unmistakable gears on the little black gem’s casing. Gears that had been haunting her since the first time she woke up in the hospital room with her soul gem in her hand. Gears that kept grinding her sanity. Walpurgis.“How...?”“You think that you control time. You don’t even know what you don’t know. You live because you hope. But there’s no hope for us. We only have knowledge of possible futures. Knowledge expels hope. This is why you must forget what you’ve seen here. Your subconscious will store the images you need.” * “The next thing I remember is the ceiling of my hospital room, the same as always.”“Homura-chan, this is terrible!”, the two Madokas exclaimed at once. Kyouko slammed her fist on the table. They all saw the hidden threat behind the act of generosity. It was a carefully chosen little intervention that changed the direction of an entire universe. And it was the very trap that could have driven the time traveler Homura crazy: probably they only let her save Madoka because it was a step in the course of events that led to them taking over the world.“Twisted!”, Kyouko whistled. “Even if you could go back again to thwart their plans you’d have to throw Madoka away...! These baldies are just as nasty as the Incubators! Our world is in good hands... or... just wait a minute! Are you sure you didn’t have any business with them since then?”“I had never seen them since then, until Hochfeld. Unless they erased that from my mind too...”, Homura didn’t look delighted by this possibility. “But Walbey said that he met them. I think we both were manipulated to create a stable universe for them to take, because our world seemed to stop decaying after you crossed over. The thought of being a chess piece in their hands when all I did was trying to save Madoka makes me sick!”“And they still want something from us!”, Madoka added. “We saw those screens: Homura-chan and I are still wanted in our world. And they’re looking for Walbey too!”“Who’s this Walbey?”, Akuma Homura wondered. “I thought you’re at war with the Incubators.”Kyouko burst into laughter.“It’s Walbey who’s at war with them the most! I don’t think he’s happy about his looks but he had to steal a host body from them... Truth is, he has to hide in that form while his human body is serving his life sentence in the Wissenschaft prison... The old man’s a genius and a good guy anyway, he’s our greatest help. Okay, he has his burdens too, just like every one of us, but it can’t be helped... He was found by Homura somehow, back when he was a human. But now we know where she got the idea from...”“I owe Madoka’s and my life to him.”, the dark haired girl said humbly. “I hope he can help us again and the Observers won’t stop him before he could...”“I hope so, Homura-chan! And I’d like to help you too! Could you think of this man for a moment? We might have his parallel and I want to find him!”Madokami closed her eyes for a second.“Oh... it’s really interesting! I understand now! He was really your best choice. He and his son are both tied to multiple worlds, just like Homura-chan or myself! No wonder that you’ve ended up here! And I had no idea that there are such people in my world! Even though we became gods we can’t just be omniscient, you know. We’d go crazy if we had to keep everything in mind. And we really don’t know much about other worlds. I can’t even explain what I see... it’s like a huge tangle of threads and force fields and junctions where worlds split. Just like the fork where Homura-chan tried to save me again and again. The timelines she created are branching from that point like stamens of a spider lily. But your world is different: it’s relocating right before my eyes without splitting and keeps changing in the future and the past too... I don’t even know why. It has no apparent reason. But even if it doesn’t, that reason will be created in the past for sure, to protect causality. I can only tell one thing: this change has something to do with Homura-chan, with both Homura-chans!”“It must be the machine Jones put me in...”, the older dark haired girl sighed. “He... made me feel like... your Homura. Then he connected the two universes. This is how we met and this is why our worlds are neighbors now. It was a real nightmare, I even saw an Incubator with him! That little bastard was cheering for him the whole time. He wanted to study your world. They’ve practically steered ours closer...”Akuma Homura’s eyes burned with red glow behind the gentle lavender as she clenched her fists. No matter how lost she was in her new role, threats against Madoka were no laughing matter to her.“What the hell do I need to shake them off?! Even a whole universe isn’t enough? Goddamn alien bastards... Just try to sneak into our world and take your hands on Madoka, I’ll show you that even you can suffer...!”The yellow eyed Madoka just shook her head.“Let them be, Homura-chan... you know that they won’t come here. They simply can not.”“How come...?”, the older Homura raised her brow. “Even we mere earthlings could cross over with our early 21st century technology! We wouldn’t even need magic if we did the same as Jones: he followed me from timeline to timeline and I never noticed him!”“That’s because you’re separate individuals! But the Incubators store their memories in a big collective consciousness. It’s hard to kill one, but even if you do you’ll get nothing from that, because they’ll still remember everything it knew. But there’s a catch: if an Incubator enters a world with another similar collective network it’ll become one of them and inevitably forget why it came. And they can’t go back in time for the same reason: when they arrive they won’t remember anything they didn’t know at that time. I don’t know how they connect to the others from within a witch’s labyrinth and why they don’t send messages to their past selves, but this is why Homura-chan could protect me until I finally made my contract. If they had warned themselves about her trying they would have surely done something against her! After all, they could even turn her into a witch, right here under my nose!”Even the Goddess herself was scared of the thought. She protectively clutched Akuma Homura by her head. Then her grasp tightened even more when the other Homura told her about the tiny little scratch that she found on her soul gem on the morning before Walpurgisnacht – even though it was nothing to the screws in the younger version’s soul...“It was almost a success. By the time we defeated Walpurgis I must have been within an inch of Homulilly... I rather froze myself in amber together with Walpurgis and Kyubey than letting Madoka see me like that. I was so close that everything was horribly familiar in her labyrinth where we met... I had been roaming that city for two months so you can imagine that I couldn’t get away from there even after I was freed and those grinning dolls kept hunting me too. Madoka can tell you how terrible I looked every night after Walter carved me out of the amber and broke my soul gem. He saved my life but couldn’t save my dreams.”“So you had your own Clara dolls?”, Akuma Homura wondered. “Then you were really close! Have you ever seen them outside your head? Would you like to? There’s fourteen of them and each one is as strong as a magical girl!”The other Homura made a wry face.“You’re right, it’s a bad idea... They rarely listen, only when they feel like it. They only fear Madoka...”, the Devil blushed, peeking through the divine arms. Madokami still didn’t let her go, even though she seemed to be somewhere else.They all watched the Goddess for a few seconds - then Madoka returned with a blink.“I have no power over your world, but I’ll do my best to help you.”, she said looking around at her guests. “You ought not talk about this universe in yours, for your own good. But I’d like to be there for you when you need us, because you will. This Walter Bishop has a pair of strange typewriters, designed to transmit between two worlds. It works by quantum entanglement so it can’t be monitored neither by the Incubators nor the Observers. I asked him to lend them to us while he was sleeping. He wasn’t even too hard to persuade. Take one to your world, I’ll keep the other. The postman’s going to deliver them next morning, then I’ll send you home.”“Wow, your postal service is quick as hell!”, Kyouko noted.“I asked him last week.”, Madoka smiled.“You’re awesome! But won’t you be discovered this way?”The Goddess’ smile gave way to a grin.“They sent it to another city someone accidentally mixed up the address and no one remembers a thing. But...”, she changed to a serious tone. ”As the demanding God I am I’d like you to do something for me too. It’s just a little play. You know, we’ll always be like this, but you had... grown up. I’d like to see how we’d look like older.”“I don’t understand...”, the other Madoka gave her a confused look.“But it was you who just played my role... I’d like you two to swap places with us for a little. Don’t be afraid, I won’t impose the world on you, I’d just like to see you in my outfit! And the other Homura-chan too, as a Devil!”Kyouko took a bowl of peanuts and leaned back giggling. These two didn’t fail to amuse her again.Madoka had no objections so both pinkettes got up. She bowed a bit to let her shorter alter ego kiss her forehead. In the next moment she was standing there in her parallel’s divine white dress.“M-Madoka... You’re stunning!”, it was everything Homura could stammer. Madoka smiled in deep blush.“You’re next!”, Kyouko demanded looking at Homura.“All right.”, Homura sighed. “But believe me, I’m not a great sight...”“It’s not true, Homura-chan! You’re beautiful!”, the pink eyed Madoka joined in. “It would be fantastic to wear fitting dresses! Even you have to admit that the other Homura-chan is cute in it!”“You’re nice, Madoka, like always... But she’s so... perfect. And I’m...”“...perfectly skinny! You two are as like as two peas!”, Kyouko said with finality and to demonstrate her point she simply picked up the raven haired girl and carried her to her alter ego.Akuma Homura clapped with a mischievous little smile and the change was done. The girl in her diabolic dress suddenly raised her hands to hide something between her barely covered breasts. This was the moment when Madoka realized the reason of her reluctance and the penny dropped for Kyouko too. She had already seen Homura naked on the operating table and she knew that the thin girl would walk through the Chamber of the Parliament dressed in a pair of AK-47s without as much as a blink if she needed to. Kyouko was appalled that Homura could worry about such a trivial little thing. A strange girl, indeed.“Don’t you say that it worried you! You had been cut open, then what? They did it like a pro. Just be happy that it wasn’t me! Then you’d really have something to hide! Anyway, I’ve seen someone with a tattoo like this...”Akuma Homura gave her parallel a surprised look.“Why didn’t you mend that scar?”Her older self sighed and lowered her arms.“I didn’t feel like I had enough excess magic for that. You weren’t there in those timelines, they were getting harder and harder. I could barely survive the last battle. I tried to save every drop of my power. I’ve repaired everything inside and my eyes too because I needed them in battles, but I couldn’t care about marginal things... I thought that even if Madoka saw it she wouldn’t waste her wish on it if it isn’t dangerous or painful. So I stayed like this. But Kyouko’s right, it’s stupid to worry about it. Madoka did never mind...”Kyouko waited for her to finish then whispered something in Akuma Homura’s ear. The Devil asked something in return just as silently then she shrugged and clapped her hands again. In the next moment the bored Sayaka toppled over backward with her chair.“I knew it!”, she yelled.Kyouko stood before them in a traditional red and white miko outfit, swinging a stick with a long paper ribbon.“Just to make you happy! It’s your obsession, not mine!”“Neo-Christian, yeah, sure...! Don't try to pull a fast one on me!”, Sayaka laughed clutching her stomach. But Kyouko poured cold water on her spirits.“This is my farewell gift. I’m going to leave tomorrow, to the world where I belong. They need me more than you do. You’ve probably figured out already that I am someone else.”Sayaka looked at her sullenly but finally she nodded. She knew that this redhead was just a reminder of the Kyouko of her own world. She resolved to find that other one the next day. She hoped that their Kyouko’s memories were returning too now that the world was freed from the Devil’s grasp. If not...But there was something else Homura was curious about.“What’s this ‘World D’ you keep mentioning? Why isn’t it ‘A’ like ‘the first world we’ve known’?”“It’s D like Drugs. This is our technique. I’m not really sure if I should be proud of it being more advanced at biochemistry when we know a dope that can incubate witches... Their universe is just Wold M to me, because they’re much more magical.”, Kyouko grinned at the alliteration. “Then I realized that that ‘M’ could be ‘Madoka’ instead...”Madokami led the whole group to the backyard where Tomohisa usually raised tomatoes.“Wow, Madoka! I’ve never seen it! I didn’t know that you have something like this in your garden!”, Kyouko yelled, surprised by the Shinto shrine gate.“We can have anything you want in this garden as long as Papa gets his tomatoes back in the end. He’s just planted them!”, Madokami giggled. “All I want you to do is to stand here, under the gate. I’d just like to take a picture of you three. It’s not everyday that you get visited by your alter ego from another world!”“Just watch!”, Kyouko grinned and dragged her world-mates under the gate.“Almighty Madoka-sama of the heavens, Good-for-nothing Homura-sama who rulest over white rats, may ye bless this house and its holy gate. Bestow good luck upon all who treadeth this sacred ground, amen!”“I’ll kick your ankle...”, Homura hissed.“Why do you think that no one else should read stupid messages in bus stops? It’s you who shouldn’t read them to begin with, you like to brood over such things too much... Wait, I see why you have these dark thoughts! You’re possessed by a demon! Just let me purge you! Begone, evil spirit!”And she brandished her stick and swung Homura with the paper ribbon. In her left hand she was already holding a paper talisman against the demon.The move the raven haired girl dodged the talisman with was way quicker than it should have been. Kyouko tried to follow but she could only see blur and feel her own talisman slapping her forehead and sticking there. She growled about Cortexiphan, magic and sense of humor while she scraped the piece of paper off herself. Homura panted, hiding behind Madoka.“Not bad at all!”, Sayaka laughed. “Only that ‘Amen’ wasn’t right on... And you should practice exorcism a bit more because devils can be quite nimble!”Kyouko bowed.“I’ve already said that my Christian background puts me at a disadvantage when it comes to the rituals of the Church of Madokami! But it seems that even makeshift priestesses like me can do for this embryonic religion... Just watch how our Goddess tries to catch new followers with her own hands! ...Oi, Homura, are you okay?!”Only Madoka stopped the dark haired girl from collapsing. They quickly carried her up into the guest room and assured Madokami’s parents that they didn’t need a doctor and even if they had, no normal physician could have helped this Homura.The house goddesses examined her instead and they marveled at her state.“Madoka, I almost envy you! Homura-chan’s soul is partly outside her body and it’s a bit inside you! How did you do this? What happened to you?”“It must be her magnets. You know, we said earlier... Jones injected some of them into me to torture her more efficiently and to make her more similar to real magical girls. I was afraid that he tried to turn her into a witch but fortunately he was content with almost doing so...! We escaped in the end but Homura-chan stayed this way. Now her soul is attracted by my body too. We’re really close this way but we were already close enough and I’m worried about Homura-chan... It’s very dangerous for her. If there aren’t enough magnets in her bloodstream her soul may slip away...!“See? Our method isn’t perfect...”, Homura faintly smiled. She had to gather her strength for every few words. “This is the best we can... But I’ll be fine, just let me rest a little... I used magic, that’s why I’m... exhausted. When we get home I’ll get... new magnets... in the university lab.”“No way, Homura-chan!”, Madokami objected. “I know you too well... you should take better care of yourself! I won’t let you leave like this!”“Let me do it, Madoka!”, Akuma Homura offered. “It’ll be better this way. Do you remember the pain you felt when you contracted with the Incubators? It’ll be just as painful for them! I don’t want you to hurt them, it’s the Devil’s job! But I think I’d better anesthetize them for the operation like humans do...”Madoka would have liked to talk with them some more, but Akuma Homura clapped and she suddenly felt weary and drowsy. She collapsed on the futon next to her Homura and the world faded to black before her eyes. * Silence fell over the house, every light went out. Everyone was sleeping, only Akuma Homura was still lying awake. Her head was full of thoughts after everything that happened. She got up and left the dreaming Madokami while she sneaked around in the house full of sleepers, immersed in her thoughts. She had been alone for so long that the world got re-created twice in the meantime - then, suddenly, everything changed and she lost her footing. Dreamlike things happened to her, things she couldn’t even hope for since her early days as a pigtailed, bespectacled naive little girl who tried to protect Madoka from the unknown with a mere golf club. After these years of isolation she found herself sitting in the Kaname household, literally dragged home by Madoka. Just a day earlier she had been the almighty Devil, pulling strings from the world’s engineering deck. Now she was Madoka’s strange and clumsy protege, surrounded by a bunch of oddly friendly people. She found this crowd distressingly hard to handle.“Why, a black cat wandering in the night... Come, sit here, Homura. Don’t be afraid, I won’t bite...”So there was someone else awake. Madoka’s mother was sitting in the murky kitchen. She was the most confusing of the whole family, and the girl had just run into her arms... Homura felt like running away and erasing their meeting from Junko’s mind. In the next moment she was ashamed of her own thought. She had just been thinking of betraying Madoka’s trust... Dozens of well deserved tomatoes would have splashed on her hair and clothes if she hadn’t been in Madoka’s house. But even her unruly familiars behaved themselves here.Something touched her hand. Homura just realized that she was holding on the edge of the table with whitened knuckles and the touch came from Junko’s hand that she placed on hers. The girl sighed at the gesture. She couldn’t do anything about the ruins of her once perfect mask that leaked like a sieve.“I’m glad that you popped up here. I’d like to have a little talk with you. I know that I’m just a funny stranger to you and I don’t know you either. But I know Madoka and she doesn’t lie to me. I accept that you’ve long known each other, since a time I can’t even remember. In a sense it wasn’t even real, was it?”“I... I don’t know...”, the girl began, her timid gaze wandering around. “It might sound unreal to Kaname-san... But everything she said had really happened to Madoka and me.”“You can call me Junko. I know that a few hours have passed again, but I’m still not that old!”“Junko-san...”Homura fell silent. They lived in totally different worlds. She couldn’t think of anything she could have told to Madoka’s mother.“Here, let me help you. I know much more than you think. Madoka told me so much about you that I can’t even imagine how she could do it in the short time you spent here. You know that you’ve done something horrible, don’t you?”The question wasn’t necessary and it needed no answer: Homura’s eyes spoke in her stead. Now Junko really had to hold her to stop her from running away. The only difference between the girl’s gaze and that of a scared beast was a whole mountain of guilt. Junko felt bad for mentioning but perhaps she was doing the very thing she wanted to talk about.“And I can’t forgive you. First of all, I’ve never had a grudge against you. What’s more important, only you can forgive yourself.”As she spoke Junko had a great chance to study the shifting shades of purple in the girl’s eyes as widened in fear, dropped in submission, then fixed at her again full of confusion and a little faint hope.“Madoka is my daughter and I won’t let any harm come to her. Still... you may not believe, but I kind of understand you. You know, once I had a talk with Madoka, right here. It might haven’t even been so long ago... She asked me how to help a friend. This friend of hers just wanted to do what she felt right. She might haven’t even been wrong, but life isn’t so simple. Sometimes you can only hurt yourself if you do the right thing. I told Madoka that sometimes you need to make a mistake to get things right. I advised her to tell a lie to this friend or run away. To do something wrong. Sometimes the only exit from a dead end is a big mistake. I feel like you were here with us too, because I could have never found a better example.”Homura remembered a blue soul gem falling from a bridge, Madoka crying over Sayaka’s dead body, scared of her own deed. Homura didn’t understand how Junko could remember that time but she was sure that the woman knew what she was talking about. Homura had been there too, it was her who got Sayaka’s soul back from the back of a truck. It must have been some divine intervention, the gem would have probably shattered if it had fallen on the pavement. What Madoka had done was terribly stupid - yet it helped Sayaka and Kyouko to make peace.“Junko-san... why don’t you hate the Devil for what she did?”“Cut it out, Homura, this is stupid! You’re no more ‘devil’ than Tomohisa or myself.”“B-but I sealed Madoka here on Earth! I wanted her to be together with me forever in blissful ignorance! I took her memories, her divine power she could have been so proud of...”The girl blinked fighting back her tears then she gave up and wiped her eyes. She couldn’t tell how Madoka’s pride felt – but hers was surely in ruins.“You are frighteningly powerful, Homura. When I talk with you I always have to push away the thought that I’m playing with fire. But!”, Junko held up her index finger. “Have you ever tried to give this power to someone just to see what they'd do with it? Believe me, you used it way better than most people would! I’m not even sure that my world would be better than this one. And you could even realize your mistake with a little help and try to make things right. What would you call such a ‘Devil’? And you did something more. You say you wanted to keep Madoka for yourself, but if you two told me the truth it was exactly you who gave her back to me.”The undeserved kindness made tears trickle down the girl’s face. Junko watched her carefully and failed to see the monster that Homura saw in herself. In the woman’s eyes she was no more than a troubled, weary teenage girl who made stupid mistakes like anyone else in her age, but even her parents weren’t there to support her. Junko got up from the table, stepped behind Homura’s chair and took the girl in her arms.“You don’t have to carry everything alone... you should trust Madoka! I’m sure she has learned from her mistake. And we are here for you too, just like for her.”Junko held the crying girl until she felt the sobs ease behind the black curtain of hair that hid Homura’s face, then she helped her to her feet.“Come, Homura, it’s time to sleep. I hand you back to Madoka...”And she steered her to the door where the golden-eyed Goddess had already been waiting her with open arms. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Sky Ruin v0.902 Madoka stretched yawning in the guest room of the other Kaname house. The sun shone through the window but Sayaka was still sleeping soundly and Kyouko was lying halfway up the wall next to her futon less soundly. Only Homura could not be found.She stepped out and gently closed the door not to disturb her friends’ dreams. They didn’t have too much to do this morning and they couldn’t leave anyway until Madokami would send them on their way, so she decided to take the time to solve the mystery of the missing Homura.She didn’t have to look for her too long, she just had to follow the voices from the kitchen. She felt like lurking this morning so she peeked in the kitchen instead of stepping in. She didn’t want to disturb them – because both Homuras were inside.The two girls were busy at the kitchen counter, both wearing aprons and having their hair put up. They were apparently making bentos for everyone - including Kyouko, Madoka guessed from the amount. And her Homura (with Tomohisa’s help) seemed teaching the other.Madokami’s father was just showing the way to carve beautiful and tasty bits of the food to the new member of the family.“I know you’ll do it fine!”, he smiled at the self-proclaimed devil. “Just look how skillful the other Homura-chan is!”Akuma Homura worked with the knife with great dedication then she showed the finished bits to the others before she put them into the open box, next to the rest. Of course it would have been much easier to do it with magic in a blink of an eye but she suspected that she’d have left out some important ingredient that way. Tomohisa nodded and congratulated her for her first partially own bento.As Madoka watched them she felt watched too. As she turned her head her eyes met Madokami’s golden gaze. The Goddess smiled as she put her finger across her lips.Now the two of them watched secretly as the girls in the kitchen switched to making the breakfast and they brewed a massive amount of Madoka’s favorite hot cocoa. Of course anyone can make cocoa – but Akuma Homura was making Madoka’s favorite morning drink and she did her best to memorize the little tricks that made Tomohisa’s special cocoa.“Wait, we’ll help you with the serving!”, Madokami said and grabbed a plate with a pile of food. Both Homuras looked up and waved smiling to the arriving Madokas.The pink eyed Madoka didn’t even notice when the others sneaked out of the kitchen. She just saw Tomohisa whispering something in Akuma Homura’s ear then he disappeared leaving the two of them alone. The three had apparently been arranged something in her absence. Madoka was curious, but when she saw the deeply blushed fidget nervously girl she felt bad for her.“Don’t be afraid, Homura-chan! I won’t bite!”She placed her hand on the Devil’s shoulder and looked at her, waiting.“Madoka... I’m so sorry... It wasn’t nice to toy with you last evening...”, she paused to study the pattern of the floor before her feet. “I... think I’ve gone too far...”Now that they were over and done with it both girls felt relieved. The pink eyes smiled at Akuma Homura.“I’m not angry at you at all. Didn’t I play with you first, anyway? I infiltrated your class while Homura-chan and Kyouko-chan hijacked the real Madoka...”She giggled at how she implied that she wasn’t ‘real’ - but in this world she could indeed only be a copy, ‘another’ Madoka.In the next room the older Homura cheered for her other self. She knew that it was hard for her, but it would have been worse to leave her with even more guilt, the poor Devil had already more than enough of it. Tomohisa woke her from her thoughts.“Oops! I forgot the spoons! Other Homura-chan, could you bring one for everyone?”The dark haired girl jumped and hurried for the kitchen. Then she slowed her pace when she realized why they had left the two alone. She didn’t want to disturb them – but it seemed that they were already out of the woods. She stepped to the familiar cupboard in a relief and opened it to get the cutlery.“Tschüss...”, she mumbled awkwardly.The blonde doll cast a beaming smile at her from under her flowery hat and held out a bouquet of spoons. Homura took them like they were eggshells filled with nitroglycerin.“Danke...”, she said to the doll and closed the cupboard, gingerly.She gave a relieved sigh when she reached the dining room in one piece.The rest of the morning was just like any other, back in another world. Tomohisa asked the two girls from his world to help Takkun to wake up Junko and the still sleeping guests.“You heard it, Homura-chan! Just go with Madoka! If you’d like to belong to the Kaname family you’ll have to take part in it too!”Akuma Homura hurried to catch up to Madokami, her hair fluttering as she ran.“Is this what they really want?”, Tomohisa wondered as he left with his guests. “Should we really pretend they’re normal students? Should we set them on their way to school every morning, should we listen their teachers and nod at whatever they say knowing that our girls are merely doing it for fun? And what if they graduate from school?”“I think I understand them.”, the ‘other’ Madoka answered. “I think they’ll start it over and over until they have a better idea. Yesterday they told to us that they would never grow up. I think they’ll always need you and always be happy that you’re there for them. I don’t know how Madoka’s half-existence out there could feel, but I’m sure that no one can appreciate having such a loving family better than her.”“We’ll do our best!”, he promised. “Still, having stuck with them... I’m happy to see that they... I mean you two, are still together after so many years. Not that I don’t believe that Madoka is serious... Yet she confused me a little. Just a bit earlier she had been a small child and now she’s making such important decisions all alone... Of course we didn’t have a clue about her other life...”The bell rang. The old, familiar postman was standing in the door and welcomed Tomohisa back in Japan. Then he spotted the twenty-year-old Madoka.“Look, what a grown-up this girl has become! You can only blame America, Tomohisa-kun!”But he got much more surprised when Madokami popped up to take the package he brought to her. The postman shook his head in disbelief.“I didn’t even remember that you had twins! But shouldn’t they be the same age then...?”“She’s my sister’s daughter. She’s here to help with unpacking. It’s a wonder how they look the same, isn’t it, Hideki-san?”The older Homura hurried to vanish before the postman could spot that there was two of her too. So she could only hear when he found her parallel.“And who this lovely young lady might be? Is she your sister’s child too?”“Not at all!”, Madokami said. “Homura-chan is a transfer student just like me, we arrived almost at once and made friends. She had been in hospital with a heart condition for a long time and her parents don’t really care about her so we thought it would be better for her to be here. She’s been with us for two days and they haven’t even tried to look for her! But we asked her to take care of Takkun whenever papa works on his book about city gardening.”“And they dare to call themselves parents...!”, the old postman grumbled. “Youngsters these days...!”Tomohisa couldn’t do better but share a look with Akuma Homura.“Do I work on a book?”, he raised his brow. The rest was more or less the same as she had told to them when she took the other girl home. The only thing she changed was the order of the sentences and it was enough to give a completely different ring to the story.“You do. Better not to mess with Madoka!”, the Devil whispered with a grin.“Let’s see the delivery!”, the postman browsed through the list of the larger packages then dragged a box out of the back of his van. “This is it! Madoka-chan, please tell your American friends to be more careful of the addressing next time! It’s a miracle that it’s arrived at all! And it’s heavy! What’s inside?”“Typewriter.”, Madokami answered. Hideki made a surprised face.“Strange friends you have in Boston! Don’t they know that we have these things too? You could have bought much better and newer and lighter here...”“But it’s a special, antique piece! It’ll be a present.”“To your father for his book?”, the postman asked then he fell silent, embarrassed. He might just have spoiled a surprise...But Madokami just smiled while she forged a fingerprint on the sensor of Hideki’s tablet.“I don’t understand, it says that something’s wrong... but we all know that you are you, don’t us? I have to hurry now! Take care, girls! I wish you success with your book, Tomohisa-kun!”At last Junko arrived too and sat down at the table, neatly dressed and ready for the day. Sayaka and Kyouko appeared too - no one was missing. Despite the strange gathering it was a normal pleasant and nostalgic spring morning with a perfect breakfast. None of them had to worry about anything in this world.After eating Madokami waved to her guests to follow her to the spacious bathroom. They opened the delivery: beside the typewriters they found a sheet of paper, syringes, ampules filled with ruby liquid and some dubious sticky blue wad in a little box.“Cotton candy!”, said Kyouko when she tasted the suspicious tissue after some sniffing. She held out the box to Sayaka who tore a large tuft of the sweets.“He says it’s for you...”, Madokami said running her eyes over the letter. “In case there’s no such thing in your world. He knows a universe where coffee is regrettably unobtainable and he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he bereaved you from the experience of blue cotton candy.”“Hmm... this is interesting. ‘Have you thought about the Observers’ origin? You say that they’re humans too, or post-human beings to be more exact. Something tells me that this is the result of someone in your future trying to copy the abilities of your miraculous ‘Incubators’. Believe me, it isn’t right for a human to play God!’”The older Homura shook her head, full of concern.“Yes, this is almost what I concluded... I didn’t want to tell it to anyone while I’m not sure, especially not in our world. I don’t want them to learn that we know something... We have too many enemies. I wouldn’t like neither the Incubators nor the Observers listen... My theory is, we humans tried to starve the Incubators. If we don’t have emotions there’s no energy for them to collect. On the top of that, the Observers are all men. Could they hinder the Incubators’ magical girl making plan any better...?”“I’d gladly say that it’s your usual pessimism, Homura...”, Kyouko answered. “But it makes too much sense.”“Then I realized what I told you about the Observer who saved me and now I’m sure that they ensured their future through me. I have no idea how I’ll sleep from now on... you two helped me last night but what can I do today?”“Oh... so you’re having nightmares too?”, the Goddess asked with a sad face. “My poor Homura-chan can only sleep if I’m there too. Madoka, I hope you take good care of her...”The older Madoka put an arm around her Homura’s waist. The other girl leaned her head on her shoulder and they watched Madokami this way, waiting for her to read the rest of the letter.“He asks you to measure the frequency of your world and tell it to him... through me, of course. Ours resonates at 277 Hz, the frequency of middle C-sharp... Then, let’s see... ‘I haven’t told Peter that I send this package to you. He already regards me as an eccentric old man, I wouldn’t like to unnecessarily explain myself to him... I believe that someone, somewhere greatly needs these things. Please accept them as an offer of peace on behalf of my universe! I don’t want any more wars with our neighbors. I wish your friends luck, hug them in my stead!’ Well, if he insists...”Madokami smiled and gathered the couple from the other world in her arms. Kyouko was the next. Then Sayaka patted the guests’ shoulders, she even hugged Kyouko. The redhead needed all her discipline to command herself.Someone knocked on the bathroom’s door. The yellow-eyed Goddess let her family in. Everyone was here, even though they didn’t really get why their guests had to leave through the bathroom. They received one more hug from Junko then Tomohisa picked up Takkun to let him ruffle the girls’ hair.“Goodbye Big Maroka, Other Devil, Kitsune-onee-chan! Be smart!”Homura lifted the little boy over her head, spun around then handed him to Kyouko knowing that she likes to play with the child too. The redhead raced around the spacious bathroom with him then gave him to the smiling Madoka who mused when she saw her younger brother so little. When Takkun got back to his father the parents waved goodbye to the girls and left the bathroom.“Well... good luck. We’ll root for you all.”, Akuma Homura said then darkened the windows with a clap of her hands.This time they were cautious. Madoka asked for a swimsuit and packed her own outfit in a backpack, together with a bento and the half of Walter Bishop’s present. Then she took the backpack, wrapped it in a waterproof bag which she took with her into the bathtub full of lukewarm water. Then, while Sayaka shook her head in disapproval, she dosed herself with Cortexiphan, covered her eyes, plugged in her ears and laid back in the water holding on to Homura and Kyouko.A pink cloud began to unfurl underwater. Madoka lying in the pink water was a morbid sight, just like she had slit her wrists. But this liquid wasn’t her blood, there was much more of it. The bathtub overflowed soon and the pink tide flooded the whole bathroom. Homura and Kyouko kept sitting still on the brim, composed, without disturbing Madoka with the slightest move. The flood rose, it reached their necks but their clothes were still dry. Then the liquid overran them and they couldn’t see the three girls from World M anymore. They couldn’t breathe, the liquid filled their lungs and the world went black.Only the Goddess, the Devil and their Angel left in the bathroom. They could breathe freely – yet they looked sick.“Shouldn’t we have said them something?”, Akuma Homura asked hoarsely. “It’s terrible to just throw them back to that world...”Madokami shook her head with wet eyes.“Not yet. You know that they’ll look for us when the time arrives. We should prepare to be there when they need us.”Sayaka clenched her teeth and fist, feeling like punching the wall.“God damn these rotten laws! Why can’t you two do something about them?! If the God can’t break them at least the Devil should! Do you hear me, transfer student?!”, she shouted.The self-proclaimed demon looked away speechlessly.“I don’t even know anymore what I could believe in...!”, Sayaka added quietly, letting her fist fall in her lap.“Believe in hope.”, the golden eyed Goddess answered with a sad smile. * They arrived with a loud splash. Their lungs struggled for breath but they’d spit every molecule back if they didn’t need oxygen so desperately. The revolting stench turned their stomachs and reminded them of Mecca. The first sound they heard in their own world was the deep buzz of big fat blowflies. Madoka reached for the scarf before her eyes with shaking hands.“Madoka... you should stay like this...”, she heard Kyouko’s shaking voice. Not far from her, Homura panted for air and retched. Madoka yanked the scarf off her eyes with ice cold fingers.Cool breeze blew her face through the missing windows of the once all glass bathroom - but even the wind couldn’t drive away the stink of decay. Then her gaze fixed at the floor. Her eyes widened but her vision faded to black, her head groggily tumbled over the edge of the bathtub. The breakfast Tomohisa and the two Homuras had made with so much care now landed on the floor.She had no doubt about the identity of the three decaying corpses. Everything matched, their height, build, clothes, the way they had worn their hair. She could see her father’s glasses and Takkun’s favorite dinosaur. She was even sure that they would try to protect her little brother in this very position.Kyouko examined the bodies. She found Tomohisa’s and Junko’s rings and she concluded that they had passed away about ten days earlier. Cause of death: a tiny little hole in the middle of each one’s forehead.“It’s even raining...”, she mumbled hoarsely. Perfect mood for a funeral, like it was arranged specifically for them.She helped the two girls downstairs. They just kept staring ahead and could only walk because they held on to each other, so Kyouko put herself in charge. She looked around for Tomohisa’s gardening tools and took a spade. She stabbed it in the muddy ground, trampled on it snarling and tossed large chunks of soil and grass aside like she was trying to hit the Observers with them, again and again. Then she took a break - she stood there, holding her head bowed, knee-deep in a pit about two by two meters. Her hair stuck in a tousled wet mop, muddy and salty drops trickled down her face.She felt a hand on her shoulder. Homura stood before her, together with Madoka who had already changed her clothes. They recovered enough to bring more spades and help her finish the grave. By the end they were soaked and muddy from top to toe – so much for Madoka’s forethought.Then they wrapped blankets around the bodies, carried them out of the house and one by one they lowered them into the pit. Kyouko did her best to stage a complete memorial service. The new orphans just stood there mutely leaning on each other while she prayed, then the three girls buried the grave together. Madoka picked some flowers in the garden and placed them on the fresh mound.When they finished Kyouko asked for the transmitter and called in. Oriko had already been waiting on the other side, prepared to lead them to the University through astonishingly roundabout ways. The three followed her instructions without question.Kyouko adapted to the new world and this complicated way of navigation amazingly quickly. The veteran who had been a street urchin described her surroundings in simple sentences to supply Oriko with up-to-date information while she almost carried her friends on her back. She was firm and collected on the surface but the other two knew that she was boiling with anger and bitterness inside. If someone had stood in their way Kyouko would have broken their neck like a twig.Mitakihara was much more alive than Kazamino had been. Much more alive, but just as bizarre. The streets were full of people again, but they were constantly force-fed with Observer propaganda through the huge screens. Life went on, but no one was free anymore. The ordinary people were led by a group of bald men, the returnees by a platinum blonde girl. The only thing that mattered was the leaders’ ability to see the future.They roamed the streets for more than three hours before Kyouko could bang on an out-of-the-way door of the University. Mami opened it from the inside. She was horrified of the sight of the two girls’ blank stare. She held them close until they finally burst into violent sobs that they had been fighting back.“Forgive me, my friends...”, Kyouko murmured while she administered huge doses of tranquilizer to the crying girls. Then she helped Mami and Nyameka to carry their limp bodies to a room that had already been set up for them.“At least you can sleep tonight...”, she said hoarsely to the unconscious Homura when she left. She was tempted to stay with them but she had to go. She had a lot to do before she could allow herself some sleep – maybe a day or two later. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Staking Your Life On a Prank v0.904 An unfamiliar wall with white tiles. An unfamiliar ceiling with cracks. Homura blinked in a hope that the picture would change but the sinister whiteness remained. She looked down but her hands were empty. She gave a relieved sigh at the absence of her soul gem. She sat up and almost smiled at the sleeping Madoka in the next bed - then the cold reality hit her full on and her relief turned into bitterness.This place was the University of Mitakihara and yesterday was the day when... No, she couldn’t bring herself to think about it.Madoka stirred and slowly sat up too. Homura gave her a comforting hug. Perhaps it was her who needed comforting. They both wanted to tell the other that everything would be all right but they couldn’t really believe. They still had to get up and take the first step toward an unknown tomorrow.Their camouflage uniforms were gone. Perhaps they were taken to the laundry, just like at a civilized place. They saw a lot of other clothes though, procured from unknown sources. The two girls dug up the pile separately for outfits they had never worn, garments that would fit this day. They got dressed and looked at each other. Homura gave a bleak smile at the sight. They wore almost the same clothes, perfect for two places: the streets of Mitakihara – and a funeral. She didn’t even know how close she matched her parallel’s half-witch self from the past of the other universe. * Distant music echoed on the corridors of the deserted university. If they hadn’t known the place that they were looking for they could have still easily found it. As they entered the lab the heavy distorted guitar and raspy German bass almost bashed them on the head. They found Walbey fretfully walking up and down on the backs and armrests of the furniture.“I don’t know what’s wrong with her!”, he complained telepathically. At least he didn’t have to yell louder than the music. “She just rushed in last afternoon, stopped my favorite Doors record, slid before that keyboard with a bowl of popcorn and she’s been listening to this cacophony since then...”“Walbey, this isn’t just cacophony...”, Homura shook her head. “If you listened carefully you’d understand too.”The little creature stopped before her and tried to give her a sharp stare. The lyrics might have not been too complicated but even the witches’ German messages were interpreted for him by his own team, or the girls when they were available. Those very messages were the reason for them to learn some German.“In a nutshell,” the dark haired girl translated, “it’s about the strong and tough sharks. No matter how much they hold together it’s still lonely in the dark depths so they shed invisible tears. This is why the sea is salty. Lovely myth. Just ask Mami, she’ll understand. I remember the feeling too. Walbey, this is what we used to be: magical girls hunting alone in the deep. Now it’s Kyouko who’s the most like sharks among us. She’s a real predator, quick and strong. A streamlined body, a nimble mind. Just look at her, she sits there like she’s hooked those pointy fangs of hers into something. I think we’ve found her a new nickname. But even though she hunts in packs, Rosso Fantasma can’t ease her loneliness. We may never see her tears but she’s not okay, and I think I even know what’s wrong with her...”The music suddenly stopped and Kyouko glared them with a face as red as her hair.“It was enough thank you...”, she grumbled.Madoka’s gaze darted back and forth between the two.“You’re right, Homura-chan! I haven’t seen Kyouko-chan cry since...” She stopped. Exactly since Sayaka died. “This is so sad... Kyouko-chan, you don’t have to carry everything alone! We’re here for you. You’ll feel better if you share your feelings with us!”“I know, Madoka...”, the redhead answered with a strained smile. “But I’d rather leave crying to you two. It fits the little cuties like you but believe me that it wouldn’t suit me... Anyway, you should come down a peg, Homura, you’re in the lyrics too! If it wasn’t for your flaming heart you’d have long kicked the bucket!”“She’s right... even your name means flame, Homura-chan!”At long last, Madoka flashed a bleak smile. Homura was thankful to Kyouko for diverting Madoka’s thoughts off her parents for a moment.“Now listen!”, the Shark clapped her jaws. “I think I figured out how to kick their asses! Even if we can’t drive them away we’ll show them that even they can’t do as they please!”So she was trying to keep their thoughts busy, Homura acknowledged. Madoka gave Kyouko a worried look. She didn’t even think about a revenge. It would only mean a momentary deception for her and even less for the Observers. Didn’t Kyouko know it?She turned to Homura. The other girl shook her head with a sad look. She knew exactly how pointless it was to take a revenge on a perfectly indifferent enemy.“What’s wrong with you two?!”, Kyouko snarled. “I can’t remember my cool, brave little sisters reaching nirvana!”It might have merely been a friendly gesture, but Kyouko was right. Thanks to the Observers they had joined her wide, welcoming family without parents. Homura slammed her fist down on the table.“Because we haven’t reached it! You have no idea how much I’d like to blow over their goddamn system that gives them the right to do such things! I just can’t get a grip on them. Kyouko, it’s exactly like an Incubator regime would be! They don’t care about anything but their plans and power! What the hell can we achieve by taking down one or two? No one would miss them, they’d simply replace them like broken parts. We wouldn’t change a thing!”She looked at Madoka again who held close her hand that she slammed on the table. She had to wipe her eyes with the other, shaking with helpless anger.Kyouko shook her head.“Let me tell you something else! What a mock of a resistance are we? We’re just sitting in our hideout and couldn’t achieve anything but staying alive! What’s the point of a life like this? Listen carefully because I stayed up last night and I swear I cooked up what to do!”She grabbed the two girls’ hands and dragged them to her computer. Walbey curiously followed them hopping from desk to desk. He hoped to find out what his former assistant was doing all night, keeping the details to herself.“Take a good look at it!”, she pointed at the display. “You know what’s this? This is our weapon that’ll catch them by surprise!”The two girls could only see a pile of meaningless characters. Probably it was the content of the mysterious hard drives they saved from Hochfeld, but its purpose hasn’t become clearer at all. They waited for the explanation of its miraculousness.Kyouko laughed wildly at the sight of their perplexed red eyes.“Now you might think that I know what this gibberish mean! Homura, you’ve just praised my sharp mind but I’ll have to disappoint you: I have no idea! I merely know that this is Meuko herself! Our first non-human member, if you like. This is why I wanted Peter to look into this code. Or at least some expert from Massive Dynamic. But those days are over, we’re left to our own devices!”“But we can still use a black box without knowing what’s inside. It can be sufficient to know the most probable outcome under the given circumstances.”, Walbey remarked.“I’ve been doing it for half of my life!”, Kyouko grinned mirthlessly. Her dark-rimmed eyes and this misshapen, fanged grin uncomfortably reminded the others of the skull of a werewolf. She looked insane but strangely, there was method in her madness.“Walbey can tell you that I learn anything I can make use of. And I never, ever cared about the beauty of theories. Everything I know I know because it makes me a better predator. So I will use this goddamn new black box too! From today on she’ll be our hand and eye behind the enemy’s back. Homura, you said that you’d happily blow over the Observers’ system - and while we can’t probably take it down, we can grow a tumor in it. Madoka! I know you, you’d like to help everyone... Today we can give hope to the entire human race! We can deal with the Observers like we dealt with the Incubators!”Homura was too wary to rush headfirst into her madness.“So you say that you upload it to the Observers’ systems and their 600-years-newer hardware will simply run the code that we stole somewhere in Africa, from an unknown computer? Even though I don’t know much about these things it sounds steep to me!”“You’re a clever loli, lil’ sis!”, Kyouko was so preoccupied with her plan that it was her first remark on their outfits. “I’ve been dwelling on it too. We are in the real world, not in a stupid Hollywood movie where you can just ruin the evil aliens’ network by a home-made virus, delivered on a common Macbook... It just wouldn’t work, but it doesn’t even have to. We have the edge over those imaginary guys, mostly because our world is occupied!”Living under occupation as an advantage...? The two girls began to seriously worry about Kyouko’s sanity.“Don’t give me that look! I’ll tell you too, Mami and Oriko do already understand!”Kyouko nodded at the door where the two blondes, gold and platinum, had just entered. Mami was wearing light summer clothes while Oriko sported her long white silk magical girl dress and her signature hat that had always reminded Madoka of a bucket. She was the only one among the veterans who kept her soul gem to stay in complete control of her supernatural abilities. The gem in her neck glowed in bluish light right next to a morbid black pendant that she was never seen without. It was her former best friend’s grief seed whom she had to kill by her own hands not much after Walpurgisnacht. Oriko had been constantly monitored by a whole team of psychiatrists in 8-hour turns. To her relief they had apparently forgotten about her in this new world.The only reason Mami didn’t clap her hands when she saw the two girls in funeral dresses was the tea pot she was holding. Oriko brought cups for everyone, even for Walbey. She placed them on the girls’ table and Mami filled them spreading the fumes of a special blend in the laboratory. When she finished with Homura’s cup she took a break to do something to her hairband. The thin girl glanced around but only Madoka was surprised, the others looked pleased with the result. Then Mami stepped to Madoka and tied a pink bow around her neck. They just noticed the two yellow ribbons lolling out of the sleeves of the blonde’s shirt. Kyouko drew out her new necklace from her t-shirt and showed them the twin pendants: a horse and a burning candle.Homura suspected by now what the thing on her head was but Mami held out a mirror to let her see for herself. She found a beautiful lifelike plastic flower in her hair: a spider lily. She picked up her cup and took a sip of tea. She went through the symbols, one by one. The lily was easy to explain as Kyouko had seen Homulilly with her own eyes. But Candeloro, Ophelia or Kriemhild Gretchen... she had hardly mentioned them to anyone.“How did you know these specific things?”, she asked Kyouko who seemed to be the troublemaker of the team.“From now on we are the Hexenkommando and it’ll be our first mission!”, the redhead answered. “It’s only natural that I looked up a few symbols for the team! Everyone has her unique token. This way we don’t have a uniform that would make us easier to catch yet we have a little something to connect us. I’ve heard that they often call us witches lately. So be it!”“You haven’t answered my question.”, Homura pointed out.“You yourself will suggest them, in about four minutes.”, Oriko cut in. It was a real but somewhat unsettling answer.“Mikuni Oriko,”, Homura began fretfully. “Why do I feel like you’re making fun of my free will? What if I don’t say a thing?”“That won’t change anything.”, the platinum blonde answered. “Every given point of time has a set of possible futures and you’ll definitely tell us in one of them. If you decide to glare the bottom of your cup sulking and keep it for yourself then you’ll simply choose a timeline where it won’t happen. But that won’t change the fact that it’s possible for you to tell us.”“What if it isn’t?”“Then even I wouldn’t know the answer. But the answer is here, on this line!”, she held up the spiral-bound notebook she had brought the cups on.They all examined the page carefully. The sight of the elaborate mesh of colorful lines made their heads spin. Could it be how Madokami saw the tangle of worlds? Did the Observers see the same when they tilted their heads so peculiarly?“Don’t forget what you see now! It’s better to know your enemy. When I first tried to predict their actions they surprised me. I felt such uncertainty in their future and made so many mistakes that I had to sit down and think it over. My magic had worked well before, I saw events and the steps that led to them, but it failed against them who look into future too. And they were always one step ahead of me because they watched multiple probable futures. I studied their methods and realized that I have to look ahead in a different light: I need to look into the side branches too. But this method doesn’t only use a lot of magic, it gives me so much information that I have to take notes. And this is how my notes look: a network of timelines that constantly branch and meet again. Thankfully they often unite and lead to the same result, otherwise I could never accomplish anything. This very tangle is the result of me trying to predict the actions of the six of us in this small room. I only did it because Sakura-san asked me to come up with a few macabre little things that fit this suicide squad but won’t get you killed immediately. But I like the result. I almost regret that you’ve never seen me as a witch!”“I took care of it myself.”, Homura answered. She unwittingly slid closer to Madoka to stay between her and Oriko. That had been a different world and a different Oriko whose soul gem she shot through yet she didn’t feel Madoka safe in her proximity. One Oriko had been capable of the biggest crime Homura could imagine, after all.“I know.”, the platinum blonde nodded. She was calm, almost cold, but far from threatening. The way she spoke calmed the dark haired girl down. “But you’ve seen everyone else. Even yourself, which is an exceptional privilege.”Homura was silent for a few seconds then she sighed. “All right. I think I owe you girls that much, after so many years. Who knows whether we’ll be here tomorrow at all, or we’ll all die of getting through Kyouko’s insane plan... I won’t keep it to myself anymore. Every one of you has the right to know her own witch self, after all.”She didn’t even notice that she contributed to Kyouko’s founding speech. But she could clearly see that their life as they knew it was over, because the new world had no need of former magical girls to patch the tears in time-space. It needed something completely different and it was just being born.“I’ve already told Madoka everything I knew about Kriemhild Gretchen. I’ve met her more often than any of your witches... yet she’s the one I know the least. I’ve never been inside her labyrinth even though she called me, like everyone else on this planet, to her grief-less world. She was the greatest among the witches, she felt invincible. And I still saw her grief seed when she was born. It had the same bow that Mami has just tied around Madoka’s neck.”“Mami, you were Candeloro. You were sitting at an eternal tea party in an apple grove, dressed in dolls’ clothes, forever lonely. You might have remembered that I had been your apprentice too because you wanted me to be your guest until the end of the world. You had two familiars, they had been your pupils too: they resembled Madoka and Kyouko. You were probably afraid of them leaving you because you bound them by your ribbons. Even your arms were yellow ribbons, just like those you’re wearing right now.”“Kyouko, you were Ophelia, the headless horsewoman. You showed up in a colorful kimono, riding a grey horse, wielding a spear, holding your burning wick head high to show the way to your army in the thick fog. You were always looking for a job for a wandering knight. And when you found it you fought hard, multiplying yourself like you didn’t have a whole army at your command. Your name was the hardest to find out because even your messages were hidden in the mist. And it was equally hard to defeat you because there was always a copy of you that survived and multiplied as soon as I released time.”“And I...”, Homura bowed her head. She didn’t know what to tell anymore.“Wait, I’ll help you...”, Kyouko offered in her most serious tone. Homura and Madoka gave her a startled look, but she waved for silence with a fanged smile that she intended soothing.“Our friend Homulilly had one of the queerest labyrinths I’ve ever seen. She set up a mock-up Mitakihara in there and dragged us all in to play like she was still alive. Then she probably realized what she was doing and begged us to save Madoka and let her receive her well deserved execution... These nice red flowers of death bloomed everywhere around her labyrinth, but the finest bouquet was the one in the place of her brain.”The two girls who had gone through the parallel universe with her sighed in relief. Kyouko might have been able to talk them into her madness without them noticing, but she could also keep her mouth shut. She threw the others’ curiosity a bone without letting out what had happened to the other Homura and Madoka and their entire universe.“Now that we’ve got to know each other I think we should return to our objective!”, Kyouko warned them when she decided that everyone had enough time to think over what she and Homura had said. “Mami, have you got anything else to say before we begin?”“The freshmen are practicing right now. They sent their greetings to you.”, the golden haired girl said to Madoka and Homura. “They can’t be here because it would have made Mikuni-san’s notes even more complicated... And Nyameka asked me to give it to you. She feels sorry for you two and she’d like to help.”She gave a little pink lucky gem to Madoka.“She got it from a late relative of hers. She thinks that if you had a soul gem it would be just like this.”Homura had a quick look at the gem and saw that the African girl’s guess wasn’t far from the truth.Mami then turned to Kyouko.“Where did you left off?”“At the part where our little gothlolis didn’t trust my idea.”, the red haired girl shook her head.“So I wanted to tell them why we’re at advantage.”, she returned to the plan. “Because, the Observers are just making themselves home in our world and use anything they find, including the police and government data bases. It seems that they have 21st century computer systems, which are directly connected to their own. We’d be in trouble if they weren’t because the baldies are clever enough not to use our internet. But even it wouldn’t be enough if the fine gentlemen who designed Meuko hadn’t done such a painstaking work. They left a huge pile of documentation on those disks and I forced myself through a little fraction of it last night. The most important thing I could make out of it is that they were even more thorough than I thought when I saw that massive library of attachments. You get that Meuko is a software, right? And software is always written for a specific computer, should that be a big box at Hochfeld, this desktop PC or your phone. They are all different and you need to write different code for each. But the code I showed you isn’t written for any existing computer. It’s just as unusable for an Observer system as for a Hochfeld box. It has a much more clever design: the simulated personality runs over an intermediate layer that has the sole purpose of running this virtual code so it can be incredibly simple and tiny compared to the main part. And they had written and tested this layer for a lot of different systems!”Homura began to get her point but she still saw a flaw in her reasoning.“So you say you can run it on one of their ‘old’ machines, right? But I don’t think you could meddle in anything important from there... And I’m pretty sure that no one at Hochfeld wrote that layer for a 27th century computer... and I’m also sure that we won’t either!”“We don’t have to. It’s enough to know who can and give her access to their boxes. After some tinkering I could get to ask her this dawn if she can do it. It took ages for her to answer because the virtual code is very slow on our PC, but her answer was a clear ‘yes’. Anyway, she was happy for us finding her a fitting job out here.”The plan had a twisted beauty and it even made some sense. The delirious idea proved to be clean strategy: if your foe seems invincible, try attacking its information system. The next logical step would be cutting their supplies, but Homura didn’t even try to think about it yet. But there was something she was worried about. Or someone, to be more exact. She looked at Madoka who looked back. The other three shared a look too, like they had already talked everything over.“Akemi-san, Kaname-san...”, Mami began. “We know that you worry about each other and that for some reason you’re on the Observer’s radar while they don’t seem to care about us. So you don’t have to come with us. At least not until the end. We’ll need eyes outside though, the more the better. We’ll even bring Yuma-chan, despite her worrying attitude. Yesterday she said that she’d like to be a famous terrorist when she grows up!”“Like it or not, we’ll be!”, Kyouko said with another grin. She didn’t seem to worry about the child’s attitude, she even looked a bit proud of her.Mami pushed the empty cups aside in annoyance and placed a city map and a floor plan on the table.“We’re heading to the police headquarters, not far from the hospital. Our target is this server room.”, she said pointing places on the sheets which were full of notes. “We have two main difficulties. One of them is the police HQ itself, which is full of loyalists and we might even bump into Observers in there. The other is getting there. It’s exactly like getting into the city: impossible without passing at least one checkpoint. So we think that we should make some ruckus at the closest checkpoint, killing two birds with one stone: we could get through and we could even reduce their numbers at the HQ. We’d just have to make a big enough commotion. Do you have any idea?”“We should simply blow up that checkpoint. Like, with a van full of explosives.”, Homura’s tongue slipped. She wasn’t entirely serious yet she made Kyouko’s face brighten.“I like this blunt approach! I've been doing nothing lately but operating and stalking schoolgirls... I really begin to feel like a white collar guerrilla. And if you tell me who would the lunatic suicide bomber to drive that van be I’ll really hug you!”“Me.”, the dark haired girl answered. She even scared Mami and Kyouko, but Madoka was truly horrified. No, her Homura couldn’t be as suicidal as that other one...“From the outside. Assuming that we have enough Cortexiphan.”, Homura added in deep blush when she saw how much she scared her.It was her and Mami who were capable of telekinesis in their little team but neither had ever tried to do so complicated things from so far away. But now that Homura, together with Madoka, increased their doses of their regular combat drug by leaps and bounds she felt it possible too. It would be the same as earlier against Walpurgis, only from a safe distance because it was more important to defend her body now that she wasn’t a lich anymore.Walbey shook his head. He wasn’t happy to see the two competing in taking bigger and bigger doses. He knew that at this rate they were bound to run into serious side effects.“We have more than enough of that and we can make even more here at the University. Thanks to Mikuni-san we could salvage from Kazamino everything this laboratory missed, in due time. But we’re short of something even more important: some of the soul magnets’ ingredients. It seems that you’re all right now but you have less than three months before your next checkup and Kyouko has even less. And we have a novice too, not much after her first operation!”“Then our next target will be the Seihou Chemicals warehouse!”, Kyouko announced. “At least we can cause the old Akemi Naoto a little headache. If you don’t mind, Homura...”Homura didn’t mind. Before she became famous her father would have happily let her rot in a hospital, as far from home as possible. The distinguished family that owned a chemical corporation didn’t need a useless, sickly child. Though they’d have happily take pride of the world-renown UN/VP veteran, after the latest turn of events Homura had probably become unwanted to her parents again – but she couldn’t possibly care less.As she looked around at her company she had to laugh out bitterly.Tomoe Mami: she had lost her family a few years before Walpurgisnacht in a car accident. Sakura Kyouko: her father had a mental breakdown, got drunk and massacred his entire family. The only thing he didn’t know that he couldn’t just kill a magical girl. When Kyouko regained consciousness in a pool of blood the first thing she saw was him, hanging from a burning beam. Mikuni Oriko had admired her politician father but he proved to be a corrupt thief and hanged himself just like Reverend Sakura. Nyameka Gretel Mathibe: had she been there they could have seen Oriko’s mirror image in her, with a minor difference. Her father hadn’t been a thief but a murderer and was killed by his own accomplices. Chitose Yuma: her mother accidentally stayed alive in this timeline but the child would have been better off with anything but living with that psychopath.And Madoka had joined this company, together with Homura as Junko and Tomohisa were much more like a real family to her than her biological parents could ever be.She thought of the typewriter on the Goddess’ desk. Madokami saves everyone... they could ask her to take them away. How could the other Kaname parents handle two by two daughters...? But she knew in her heart that it would be an act of mere escapism. This occupied world was their reality. Even the existence of the Hexenkommando was a sick joke, just like the entire world. Only one thing had left for them: answer the joke with a joke and laugh at their own misery.She felt Madoka’s hand on hers. The other girl shook her head with watery eyes. Homura saw in her gaze that Madoka had felt her every thought, even without their direct link.“All right.”, Mami continued. “Then we’ll go through everyone’s post, only via Street View, though. We don’t want them to see us twice at the same place. I’ve been to all of them in the last weeks so I’ll tell you the differences and Mikuni-san will have comments too. Then she’ll coordinate the whole operation through an encrypted transmitter.”Now they called in the rookies too. They needed every eye to see as much as they could.“Your most vital task is to provide information.”, Oriko said to everyone. Walbey nodded, he had already seen this network in action. “It doesn’t matter what kind of information. If you notice something, tell me right away. It doesn’t matter if you don’t understand, it doesn’t matter if you think it’s insignificant, it can still affect the future. Our experience shows that Cortexiphan helps your subconscious to sort out what’s important. Akemi-san, Kaname-san, you won’t have any trouble. You’ll receive such a massive dose that you could manage even without me... but everyone else is going to get the amount they need.”They looked around in the neighborhood together and practiced to describe what they saw. The three girls who had just come back from the parallel world were new to reading out the scenery and people, even though Kyouko had already done something like that on the way to the Universe. Nonetheless, Oriko's explanation made it clearer for her too. Then Homura and Madoka injected themselves a bigger dose of Cortexiphan than ever and went out to the courtyard to train a van.First Homura had a clear view at the vehicle then she hid behind a wall and relied on Madoka’s telepathic transmission. They learned the radius of the dark haired girl’s telekinesis and saw that she would surely need to hole up close to the target and follow the van through Madoka’s eyes. No other pair in the team was close enough for this task and even they wasted the vehicle badly before they learned to confidently park it in front of an imaginary checkpoint.“Well, we can’t mangle it much more than you’ve already done...”, Kyouko remarked when she appeared with the newbies and began to pack the battered van with explosives they had already prepared. They blasted Homura’s hopes to spend some time with Madoka and show her how she had made her first pipe bombs.Everything was set for their first and maybe last mission. When the others left Madoka drew Kyouko aside.“Kyouko-chan... Homura-chan and I... we won’t be here for a while.” Any other time Kyouko would have laughed at her embarrassment but this time it felt like a knife twisted in her body. “See, we’ve lost everyone and I can’t even tell if we can make it... We’d like to say goodbye before the mission. We’ll be back by the time you need us.”“All right, keep your explanation. You two are in love, it’s just right that you desire each other. It’s okay. I’ll make up something if they look for you.”, Kyouko sighed, unable to resist Madoka’s pleading look. She could almost see Mami turn away trying to fight back her secret, shameful envy and loneliness with watery eyes and Oriko scornfully wrinkle up her nose. There are times when any fabrication works better than the truth...“And... Madoka!”, she called after the leaving pinkette. “I swear I’ll bring you two back alive! It would be a waste to lose such wonderful little sisters.”Her smile wasn’t completely honest but Madoka was still thankful for it. * It was an escape from the cruel world, as close as they could get to one another. They wanted to expel everything else from their minds because they were just as disturbed inside as clean outside. Their funeral dresses laid folded on the chairs next to the bed. They wore nothing but their new tokens: the flower in Homura’s hair and the pink ribbon around Madoka’s neck. Homura had never seen the sweet, gentle Madoka so rough. This made her understand how frightened the other girl was. This time they were really holding on the edge of a chasm, within an inch of losing each other.Madoka drank in her sight, her taste, her scent, her touch. She was feeding on her and just couldn’t get enough. With her every imperfection, every scar and visible bone the thin girl was heartbreakingly beautiful to her. Homura was right here now, but who knew if she would be here tomorrow, or that tomorrow would ever arrive...? Madoka had completely lost in her.She was brought to her senses by a painful squeak. She saw Homura biting her lip, fighting to keep quiet. The realization startled Madoka. She hadn’t meant to do any harm to Homura who loved her so truly and selflessly that she had even sold her soul just to save her... Madoka had sworn to protect Homura and now she was hurting her... She took her in her arms and begged for forgiveness. The other girl just looked back through her tears and smiled while stroking her face. Homura just couldn’t be cross with her, could never think ill of her. Sometimes Madoka was afraid that this was the reason she kept Homura by her side. She was ashamed, she wanted to right and atone for everything she could have ever hurt Homura with. She looked into the lavender eyes a little fearfully as she returned to where she left off, with much gentler moves this time. Homura didn’t mind. She wanted only one thing: to be close to Madoka, and they were very, very close now. * The time arrived and they entered the laboratory, hand in hand, eyes red from crying. Kyouko gave Madoka a curious look just to get answered with the same sad, bleak smile. She averted her eyes and kept on picking up lab tools from the floor. They were scattered by herself a little earlier, to Walbey’s great annoyance, when her argument with Oriko went a bit out of hand.The team’s all-important oracle seemed to know something and she didn’t bother with revealing it to Kyouko. Since their morning meeting she had spent her time with maniacally scribbling her frustrating lines in her notebook. After a few hours she drew Walbey aside and when they returned they demanded worrying preparations from Kyouko and Mami. Walbey even kept Nyameka in the laboratory saying that she reminded him of Astrid.“Oriko! If our mission is bound to fail why do you let us go for it? You like to toy with our lives?”, she snarled in the blonde’s face.“It’s far from ‘bound to fail’. If you succeed to accurately follow this line,”, she pointed at a thick red stripe that zigzagged through a dozen pages, “we can achieve such a success you can’t even imagine! Believe me, it’s worth doing. Nothing else is worth doing.”Kyouko was worried by this very unexpected success and she didn’t fail to let Oriko know. But now that the two smaller girls returned she kept quiet. She had lost the argument and she feared the rules of time she couldn’t understand. She was worried to death for her friends but she forced herself to keep tidying the lab in silence. After all, they knew that they were about to do something really dangerous, and Kyouko was afraid that her very warning could put them in even greater danger. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Wind God Girl v0.902 A beat-up van parked in the middle of Mitakihara, not far from an Observer checkpoint. The unknown driver seemed to exactly know the location of the surveillance cameras and they had been carefully preventing anyone to trace back where they’d come from.Two girls got out of the car in the very second and way their plan specified. One of them was a blonde dressed in a neat and comfortable denim outfit. The only strange thing in her polished look was the loose yellow ribbons hanging from her jacket’s sleeves but they weren’t enough to catch anyone’s attention in this city. The other girl could have been the red haired effigy of cool informality – if she had been able to stay still for a second. She wore cut-off jeans with a black singlet and a worn military green light backpack.They parted ways. The blonde plunged into a store while the redhead walked through the checkpoint, right under the loyalists’ noses. She passed unmarked by the guards with tattooed faces. They just had a brief look at the display to see if there was anything odd about her and kept on standing apathetically.“This was the last time you let me through like this!”, she thought with a bit of wicked joy, fishing out an apple from the depths of her backpack. If they had known the content of that backpack they’d have considered her the number one public enemy instead of chasing after her two unfortunate friends. She was the commandante of this cell and she was going to make it to the front pages... She kept on chewing her apple, strolling around in the hospital park.“Oracle, it’s Ophelia here. I’ve got through.”, she munched then she tossed the stump into the bushes. She was wearing a hardly visible headset, just like the other members of her team. The encryption of their conversation was strong enough to take impractically long to crack but Kyouko didn’t want to miss such a great opportunity for a twisted joke.“It’s Candy here, I’m in exact position. I’ve been waiting for you!”, she heard in her ear.“It’s Gretchen here. Exact position, perfect view, I’m ready!”“It’s Lilly here, exact position. I’m ready start the engine. Are there civilians left in the radius?”“It’s the Oracle here. Requesting recon data.”“Oracle, it’s the Kid here. Exact position, I see everything. A black van has just stopped at the checkpoint. They’re changing shifts. Scouting drone incoming from the front.”“It’s Gretchen here. Grey Nissan from the right stopped at the traffic light. Three students passing the road, one boy, two girls. They’re leaving the radius.”“It’s Lilly here. Observer approaching from the railway station with a briefcase. The third car on the right leaves the parking lot, turns toward the checkpoint. The waiter who served me entered the building.”“It’s the Kid here. A flock of birds landed before me. A little girl in red dress released a balloon.”“Lilly, it’s the Oracle speaking. Permission granted. Start at T plus eight seconds.”The girl in funeral dress and twin braids was sitting on the terrace of a creperie: a modest, sad beauty with an artificial flower in her black hair. A plate was lying on the table before her with sweets she had barely tasted and a glass of mineral water. She raised it to her lips and took a sip before looking at her watch. Ten seconds to go. Five. Three. She closed her eyes and stretched her consciousness to find the other, familiar soul. She found her, and the hazy, distorted view from Madoka’s binoculars filled her mind’s eye.Just a street away, a formerly white van left the parking lot and approached the checkpoint at an easy pace. * “How was the day?”, the mustached young man asked when he arrived to relieve his colleague. The markings on their faces showed that the older guard was ranked higher.“The usual crap. Boring. The baldies warned us to stay alert but nothing happened. No matter what they say, they aren’t infallible... Whatever. You know the number in case of anything happening...”The younger Loyalist frowned then shrugged. He didn’t really care if the old man wanted to get it in the neck so much that he couldn’t shut his mouth... At least there would be a vacancy, someone would be promoted... He felt like helping him by whispering a few words in the right ears.The ‘old man’ who wasn’t more than forty reached for his bag when he heard the familiar beeping. He turned back to do this last task before joining his leaving colleagues.“Your papers...”, he ordered in a bored tone through the guard shack’s window. They paid more attention to the cars than the pedestrians who were usually only scanned by the automatic face recognition system.The younger loyalist couldn’t see what happened outside, only that the other took his gun, leaned out of the window then bumped his head into its metal frame and burst into fierce cursing. The younger glanced at the display and instantly reached for his phone. He saw the road equivalent of ghost ships on the screen, but he didn’t have enough time left to report it to anyone. * As the rain of glass shards stopped the girl in funeral dress crawled out from under the table where she had been hiding from the explosion she triggered. While the staff and the guests were sitting petrified or running up and down in shock she left the payment for the crepes and water next to her plate and entered the building to leave on the other side.“So you can remember that a good girl was here...”She laughed bitterly at her own joke. She thought of the family that had taken her in and Madoka who was having an even harder time now. But Homura had cried enough for the both of them. She clenched her teeth and endured the memories and the terrible headache that was most probably caused by the drug she had taken. It would be worse, she thought.“ALWAYS LOOKING FORWARD”, the huge display above her head proclaimed. The black and white portrait of an Observer seemed to look somewhere out of the screen and the sight of the ordinary people. Probably into the future. But this time he had to see something he wasn’t looking forward to...The valley among the houses with broken windows was full of wrecked cars and shocked and curious people. The thin girl easily worked her way through the commotion unnoticed. She couldn’t see any civilian victims and she was thankful for that. Too many unnecessary deaths had followed in her wake. She gave a nod and a bleak smile to the other similarly dressed girl who arrived from beyond the square. They shared a look and parted their ways again to take their new posts. * Their friends in the park got up and walked toward the backstair entrance of the police station. Even they couldn’t understand the next part of the plan but they knew what to do. All five girls gathered in the neighborhood and while the Observers’ officers gathered at the explosion site they transmitted their reports to Oriko from their scattered stands. She played the role of the spider in the middle of her web and instructed them to do seemingly meaningless little things. Kyouko smiled at a boy, Homura moved to the next bench while she picked up an empty beer can and put it where she had been sitting. Madoka greeted two old ladies, Yuma crossed a road a bit late of the green light.And they didn’t cease giving readings of the environment in a way only the Observers could have understood. Oriko collected and arranged the data, sometimes acknowledging that they were on the planned track, sometimes giving more instructions.Finally she decided that the time had arrived and sent Kyouko’s illusion clones and the real Mami in the almost empty police station. Kyouko waited a minute then followed her golden haired friend in the cover of a negative illusion of herself. As they entered the building they disappeared from the others’ radars. They cut the radio link too because it would have been too easy to track down their broadcast inside. From that second they had to follow the exact track they had learned and repeated to Oriko before leaving. The platinum blonde girl kept collecting information and followed future after future as Kyouko and Mami approached their destination through the partly vacated building. Used grief seeds piled up on the metal plate on her desk in the University lab.The eyes kept sending their readings to her. Homura reported stranger and stranger things but they had been counting on it and Oriko had warned her not to withhold anything from her. On the contrary she wanted her to tell about the visions just like the other parts of her environment and Homura started to understand the reason. Sometimes time itself seemed to split up before her eyes and she could see two of everything, with several seconds of time difference. These moments did never last too long and she couldn’t force them but they made her feel like she had a glimpse in Oriko’s secrets.Madoka had taken a dangerous dose of Cortexiphan too but it seemed to have a different effect on her. At least Homura heard nothing strange in her reports.They waited for two hours. Darkness fell and they heard nothing about Mami and Kyouko but Oriko’s sporadic assessments that they were exactly following the plan. The watchers began to worry and the readings made the overdosed girls’ heads spin. Yet they held on, they couldn’t fail their friends in the enemy’s lair.Finally the interlopers returned and reported their success. From that time on the others paved their way back to the University. Mami and Kyouko were the first to return to the lab with Yuma following leaving the wanted pair for last.“I have a little surprise for you!”, they heard Kyouko’s voice when she was safe, together with Yuma. “You can head back now. Keep your eyes open on your way, it won’t be an everyday sight! You don’t have to hurry. Meuko reported that something had accidentally happened to the most wanted list so you’re safe to enjoy the show...”Something had really happened. People stopped on the street and stared at the huge displays, like under a spell.“Everyone in Japan sees the same broadcast now! Sayaka would be proud!”Kyouko saluted, even though neither the blunette nor the two that she was talking to could see.Madoka and Homura looked upon the screens at once. The crowd was dumbfounded for a reason. There was no one to look forward and no lists of the wanted was forced down everyone’s throat. They could see a single, cheeky face that challenged the authority. A revolutionist with the smile of an adorable scoundrel, in a Che Guevara beret: Sakura Kyouko.“Believe!”, the writing said. It was a promise. Someone, somewhere, still resisted. Someone was fighting for them. There was someone who saw the light. Someone who still had hope.Then came a list. A very different list than what the Observers’ propaganda had been repeating.“Remember!”, said the new writing.A long series of faces, many recognized by people in the crowd. The girls saw reactions of pain and anger everywhere around them. Then the faces weren’t strangers anymore: the Kaname family was looking back from the screens. They had officially become martyrs of the new Revolution. The pinkette couldn’t hold back her tears anymore. She felt a hand on her shoulder, a compassionate touch. A few streets from there the same happened to the dark haired girl. It wasn’t Kyouko who tortured them with the images. It was the AI planned for human experiments, sowing the seeds of resistance.Homura gave a sad smile to the people around her then turned back heading to the University. The streets were in an uproar. A ripe tomato splashed on the windscreen of the Loyalists’ van and many more followed. The armed men just stood there helplessly, they couldn’t believe what happened. Then they retreated and drove away without a single shot.On the way back she and Madoka kept talking to Oriko and listened the others’ reports. It seemed that they succeeded but they couldn’t live under the illusion that they had won. The enemy’s might was overwhelming and Homura expected the Loyalists return in any minute, or the mysterious Observers put a quick and brutal end to the beginning riots - but nothing happened.She was walking in a deserted neighborhood again. The shadows cast by the lamps carved the street into bright islands that kept sliding away on the sea of darkness. The girl saw colorful blotches in the blackness and heard spooky giggling. She recalled her parallel’s words.“Have you ever seen them outside your head? Would you like to? There’s fourteen of them and each one is as strong as a magical girl!”Homura shook her head. No, she wouldn’t.“Who do you think did throw the first tomato?”She began to feel that she had gone too far. Cortexiphan seemed to have a life of its own in her veins.“How do you think you can move things from the distance?”Someone was approaching. Homura strained her eyes in vain, she couldn’t recognize the dark shape. The shadow wore clothes that could have even belonged to Madoka... but this someone had twin braids. The blow she felt made her head spin but cleared up her vision. She was walking towards herself from a few hours earlier. As they met the earlier Homura disappeared in a flash of light. The girl swallowed hard.“I’ve just met myself.”, she informed Oriko.“I’m sorry... Akemi-san, Kaname-san... be strong!”, the two girls heard the answer that didn’t explain anything.They couldn’t make out the exact words Kyouko had threatened to kill Oriko with but the Oracle’s answer made their blood run cold.“Do you seriously believe that you can take on a real magical girl on a few milligrams of combat drugs?”“Stop fighting, now!”, they heard Mami shouting. The two opponents didn’t listen, the girls on the field could almost see the redhead snarl as she snapped at Oriko.“I hope you have at least bit of decency left in you and you didn’t only make us assemble this spaghetti to lull us into letting them die out there! And I hope you won’t hold back because we both deserve what we’ll get from each other!”Nothing but static noise and Madoka’s trembling voice remained.“Homura-chan... I’ve been found...”Homura closed her eyes for a brief moment. She found Madoka’s signature two streets away. She took the emergency switchblade from her pocket and cut her long black skirt short to free her legs. She was already running when she grabbed her gun.“Madoka! I’m coming for you!”, she shouted while running faster than ever. Her loosened hair fluttered in her wake. She had a stitch in her side but she didn’t care. She ran like she was running for her life, but anyone who’d thought so would have been wrong: she was running for Madoka’s life that made her own seem insignificant by comparison. But no one could see her, at least no one could recognize the former magical girl in the pitch black blur as it darted along the street.“Madoka, hold on, I’m here!”She found them in an empty alley. The pinkette had just emptied a magazine into the bald man in a fedora hat but he didn’t even blink. A handful of bullets clattered quietly on the pavement as the Observer casually dropped them. Then he disappeared in the middle of a step. It took a moment for Homura to recognize his inconveniently familiar fighting style but when she saw him standing behind Madoka, strangling the pinkette, she fired without hesitation.The Observer finally stopped ignoring her. He threw Madoka aside, straightened his back then turned to face Homura. He tilted his head and studied her for a moment before speaking.“We have found your traces in the pattern of the universe, both in Kazamino and Mitakihara. We do exactly know when you crossed over. We knew that you were coming here, everything happened the way we arranged. We just had to set things in motion and wait for your friends to break into our central system. Then we could re-enact your complete timeline. They certainly caused some inconvenience to us, but dispatching you two was worth the price. You have been useful to us but we won’t need you in the future.”The man had a look at the little display he wore on his wrist.“Interesting. You have deviated from your extrapolated futures. You should have just arrived.”Homura didn’t even comprehend his words. She could only see him taking up Madoka again and flicking open a switchblade. She grabbed his wrist to twist the knife out of his hand while Madoka slammed her head into his face – but the pinkette couldn’t hit anything but the empty air where he had just been.The hand that Homura had been grabbing now held her firmly. The wrenching made the knife turn back to her and the Observer didn’t hesitate to stab. Homura didn’t even realize that the cone cells in her eyes had already given up and left her in a dark grey world. She easily wriggled out of the grip, dodged the incredibly slow stab and landed a kick on her motionless opponent’s spine. She felt a wicked crack as her foot got in touch with the Observer and smashed him into the wall. The impact sent the blade flying and knocked the hat off his head. The wall cracked and a few bricks tumbled down the other side. Homura was the most surprised by her own strength.The man slowly got on his feet, put his hat on while studying the fragile girl who had just crashed him through a wall.“You do not realize what is happening to you. You have made a grave mistake.”As he spoke Madoka could see the bruises on his face and his bloody teeth. He wasn’t invincible after all. But she could also see Homura instinctively standing on one foot, hardly touching the ground with the other.“Homura-chan, your foot...”The other couldn’t hear a word. She flicked her liquid night hair back with her right hand then she unwittingly reached for her shield scratching the empty air with her fingertips. Madoka sat paralyzed with fear as the two clashed again. She was unable to intervene: she just had no idea where they would be in the next second, if they would be at one place at all. Bullets hit the walls harmlessly as they were dodged even before fired. Madoka could see mere snapshots as a kick or blow hit its target. She had never seen the time traveler Homura fight to the death. The battle of Walpurgisnacht had just been gaining time, a ballet performance with minimal use of magic. This fight was cruel, underhanded and chaotic. Madoka had just got up but she found herself on the ground again. She felt the other girl’s arms dragging her down but then Homura disappeared in an instant. Bullets pierced the air where Madoka had just been. The Observer froze and pawed the air before his chest in surprise. Vivid red stain of blood spread on his suit from a hand-sized cavity of raw meat. Madoka carefully shot him in the head, just in case, then she ran to catch Homura.The dark haired girl collapsed a few meters away, exactly like she had smashed into a hard and heavy object. The object had been her own recoiling pistol that hit the pavement with metallic clatter. Homura tried to brace herself against the ground but her arms bent at unnatural places. She gave in to gravity and flattened against the sidewalk quietly squeaking in pain. Madoka felt like taking her in her arms but she was afraid of injuring her even more. She quickly but carefully felt along her body and knew that she would need immediate medical help. Everything that could break was broken inside her. The pinkette’s eyes filled with tears as Homura gave her a bleak smile with blood seeping out of her ears and the corner of her mouth.“You’re alive, Madoka...”, she whispered.The other girl just couldn’t bring herself to smile back.More Observers stepped out of the empty air. Madoka didn’t even get what she was doing: she didn’t care about the pain she caused just grabbed the other girl’s shoulders and closed her eyes. She felt a strong pull and dizziness but she didn’t let Homura go. She was an impossible creature again, in the superposition of despair and hope. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Forbidden Magic v0.912 “Kyouko, Nyameka, bring the spinal board and lift Homura on this table! Tomoe-san, mix new doses of etamsylate and Cortexiphan then prepare a grief seed!”Madoka glanced around in a daze. She had succeeded. They were in the lab where everything had begun and where the Hexenkommando had just been founded. An operating table stood before her next to a platform from where the little white creature supervised his team.“Madoka, you must know that we have no other choice. The internal bleeding is too strong. The only thing we can do is gaining a little time.”, he spoke inside her head while picking a drop of Homura’s seeping blood into the pipette between his teeth. “We’ll do our best. I’d have never thought that we’d ever need to do this, but we can’t keep her alive without magic. We’re trying to stabilize her to gain the five minutes we need to prepare her for the transplant. I’m sorry for trampling on everything we were fighting for... I just don’t know any other way. But I can’t let you lose her, it would break my heart!”Despaired pink eyes gazed upon him. Magic? Transplant? Madoka didn’t understand a thing. Perhaps she didn’t want to understand. She knew that the life of the only one that really mattered to her in this world was in grave danger and she couldn’t do anything for her. But the others had already prepared and they worked with smooth and practiced moves. They strapped the unconscious Homura to a spinal board and lifted her onto the operating table. The redhead cut her clothes open with a pair of scissors.“Great fucking God...”, Kyouko grunted. She couldn’t find a hand-sized patch without bruises on the skinny body. “What has this lunatic done? I couldn’t beat a word out of our precious Oracle!”“She protected me from an Observer...”, Madoka sniffled. “They fought and she killed him... It was terrible! Poor Homura-chan... If it wasn’t for her I’d be dead...”Kyouko sighed. Madoka raised her eyes just to see that the redhead’s face didn’t look any better: it was black and blue with dark rim around one eye, her mouth puffed and bleeding in the corner. Madoka stared at her like she was a ghost.“Don’t worry about me. Oriko’s outside and we stopped fighting. By the principle of mutually assured destruction we called it a draw... But at least you should have taken better care of Homura when I failed you... She’s crazy enough to die for you and she’s perfectly capable too... Goddammit, I should have thought... At least I can’t break my own neck with Rosso Fantasma... But I won’t be stupid enough anymore to leave you two in Oriko’s care!”She fell silent. She simply didn’t have the time to blame herself, it would have only distracted her. While she was speaking her hands kept moving, sticking Homura full of electrodes from top to toe.She didn’t stop until the last, biggest needle. That was the point where she reached her wit’s end.“Walbey, even her sternum is broken...”“Wedge it from behind while you hammer the pin in!”, the little creature advised. “It doesn’t matter if the ends part, she’ll only have to survive a few more minutes...”“I was afraid that you’d tell this... Madoka, Nyameka, take those scalpels and stick it under the bone in a shallow angle then push it up! And try not to puncture her lungs... How does it feel on the other side of the knife, rookie?”Nyameka was filled with a sickly mix of shock and worry and nausea. She could only answer with a jaded look while she obeyed.“I’m sorry, Homura...”, the redhead murmured as she hammered in the last electrode. The sight made Madoka sick too.“Grief seed connected!”, Mami reported.“Protolink established!”, Kyouko lifted a rubber gloved hand in salute.They weren’t late, the ECG was still beeping. The little animal gave a relieved sigh and locked the test tube in one of his mysterious machines.“Nucleus ready, high frequency biasing active! We only have to wait and pray.”“I haven’t prayed since my parents’ funeral... And I can’t even imagine what kind of God would listen us after all we have done...”, Kyouko answered in a colorless tone.“Can I hold her hand?”, Madoka asked. “I mean, won’t it hurt Homura-chan?”“What we are about to do could only hurt you but even that possibility is highly improbable. Everything’s set up correctly: we’ve built a standard soul guide mesh, emulated the cardiac link and readied a grief seed to absorb the energy of the crystallization. At least you’ll be with her.”So she stayed there holding the other girl’s hand, her tears falling on the broken fingers. Of course she knew... She should have taken better care of Homura-chan...A little later Walbey broke the silence.“I’m so sorry, Madoka, I don’t know if you can ever forgive me... I never wanted to perform this operation yet I didn’t hold you back when it wasn’t late. Right now we are taking a step towards becoming Incubators... I begin to understand Homura. We break everything we touch: we saved her just to make her a magical girl again, you gave her a loving family just to lose them... We fought the Incubators, our descendants won and they’ll defeat us too. We’ve created a lot of things that shouldn’t exist. Shouldn’t we start everything from scratch, now wiser?”The little creature placed his paw on Madoka’s hand. The girl stroked his head with watery eyes.“Walbey... I know that you just wanted to help us. To help magical girls and the world. I don’t blame you. But at last I know what to do. I can only hope at this moment but believe me, I have enough hope for all of us. My hope is Homura-chan. Save her and we’ll start everything from scratch! I want to have a talk with myself when the worst of it is over!”“Good. I’ve talked with God too.”, Walbey answered.Madoka gave him a perplexed look. She recalled every word they had said since they returned but she was quite confident that they hadn’t blabbed out her parallel’s secret and that Kyouko held her mouth too. So she kept silent and let Walbey speak.“I know you don't blame me. But look at me! I have to hide in this body, running away from my just punishment. This might even be my very punishment. But I know that His mercy is infinite. I've been this low before. I had played with the impossible and poked at something only He should touch. I did something unforgivable and He was the only one who could free me from my sin. I asked for a sign of forgiveness, a white tulip. And He heard my prayer and sent it to me."Madoka watched her in silence, her face determined, her fists clenched by her side. Now that Walbey wasn’t absorbed by his own sins it had finally dawned on him what the girl wanted to do.“We don’t know what kind of magic she’ll have when she wakes up. Probably similar to what she had years ago. What you’re planning will hurt you, but you’re right: we have no other hope. I’ll prepare you two for what you want, if she wakes up. If not... you’ll have every right to hate me!”“She’s going to awaken!”, Madoka hissed in anger.Minutes passed, measured by beeps of the ECG. Walbey admired how strong these girls held on to life, hope and each other. But the world didn’t care anymore. Homura’s heartbeats became less frequent and more irregular. Then nothing remained but that eerie, long beep. Madoka gently held the dead girl’s hand and whispered something in her ear.Walbey tensely eyed the display. Thousands of cryptic numbers represented the chemical reactions in the test tube and now they began to move. First a few digits started to fluctuate then the readings seemed to come alive in a dazzling dance.“Come on Homura, you can’t slip out now!”, Kyouko snarled. “If you leave Madoka alone I’ll beat you to death!”“We have her! I reverse the protolink!”, they heard Walbey’s telepathic shout. A few key-presses later the spinning numbers seemed to gradually settle down. The little creature looked pleased with the result.“Primary link stable. Now disassemble the mesh! The umbilical cord should be the last. I don’t know if our construct can handle a hundred meters but it should definitely work from this distance.”Nyameka and Kyouko pulled out the electrodes from Homura’s body in the same order as they stuck them in.“Madoka, I think it should be you who gives her the gem.”, Walbey offered. “Don’t worry, it’s not easy to break. Just put it in her hands and hold them tight because she’ll probably spasm. Take the grief seed too. She’ll need it. As injured as she is she’ll probably automatically use her magic.”Madoka opened the contraption’s door and reached for the test tube that sat in the ring of coils like a cup of tea in the microwave. A little piece of stone rattled inside which she spilled in her palm after removing the plug and the connected bundle of cables. It was smaller than normal soul gems and shapeless like a piece of solid resin only colder and harder. It was perfectly clean and glittered in an incredible deep shade of purple the way tiger’s eye does. It was the second time she held Homura in her hand like this. She gently kissed the little gem and took it to the dead girl then she wrapped it in her hand and placed it on her chest. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Reverse Ideology v0.903 “Why don’t you try your new power?”, Walbey asked. He wanted to see if they could reach deep enough with this new Cortexiphan dose. Everything could stand or fall on it.Madoka nodded and closed her eyes. She recalled as the others changed to their magical girl dresses and felt her clothes transform too. Her new outfit was pink and black, short and modern, almost utilitarian. Apparently designed not to slow her down. There was something in these clothes that reminded her of the time traveler Homura. Of course, the thought of their connection filled her mind when the drug surged through her bloodstream... She loved and supported the other girl from the bottom of her heart.She felt the flow of magical energy inside as she raised her hands to have a look at her new archer gloves. She conjured up the weapon fitting for them, pink flames flowed through her fingers as she drew the string of pure energy.“Madoka, please say you haven’t...”Homura sat on the table staring at her with a livid face. Madoka dispelled the bow, rushed to her and threw her arms around her before the other girl could have done something she’d regret later.“Oh my God, of course not! I’m sorry that we couldn’t find any other way to save you, but I really haven’t... Walbey gave me a pile of Cortexiphan to let me follow you. I’ll be with you, Homura-chan! We’ll go back and set everything right. We won’t let any of this happen!”Madoka’s unnaturally yellow eyes didn’t calm Homura. The color itself reminded her of the Goddess, but it was all different in this world. Her Madoka’s irises remained pink islands floating in the yellow seas.“Don’t worry, Homura-chan! I’ve survived the dose, everything will be alright! When we arrive it’ll be all gone. I know that you got your body back as it had been every time you jumped back in time. It’ll be the same for me. But everything else will be different this time. I’ll remember, I’ll know you, you won’t have to fight the silly child me who wanted so much to be a magical girl!”Homura buried her face in her hands. It was a relief that Madoka didn’t make a contract with the enemy, but she found a huge gap in the line of her thoughts.“Madoka... We can’t stop anything from happening! You know that we can only make a new fork in the past. We’ll fail everyone in this world...”“I still say that you should go.”, Walbey interrupted. “If you can’t do it for us, do it for yourselves. Even if we can’t get anyone but you two out of this doomed world it’ll be worth it. And you can do something for us too. Send us a message if you succeed! Let us have at least one more last, Pyrrhic victory.”“You should listen to him.”, they heard in their heads. The mental voice belonged to a real Incubator.“Why is this … thing here?”, Mami asked as she stepped through the lab’s door, followed by a silent Kyouko.“Don’t misunderstand me, this time I haven’t come as your enemy.”, the Incubator smiled. “I’m observing you and I might even be able to help you.”“Why would you help us?”, Homura asked with suspicion in her voice. “Would you like to betray your own species?”“On the contrary.”, the alien wagged his tail. “These bald men are your successors who devolved their nucleus accumbens to suppress their emotions. If they take your place in the future we won’t be able to collect any more energy from this planet. This would be something you couldn’t manage no matter how hard you tried. Our best interest is not to let it happen. Your ability is our invaluable asset in this fight, Akemi Homura. To be more precise, it would be if we cared if you can preserve another world for the local Incubators. Your friends might be happy to receive your victory message but we need low entropy energy. So we’d like you to do it in a different way.”Homura clenched her teeth, her fingers unwittingly groping around the sand timer of her shield.“I wouldn’t recommend you to take a sudden jump. You’d probably leave Kaname Madoka behind which would be her death sentence unless your friends get her a new liver. Even your usual drug is far from harmless in the amount she took.”Homura stared at Madoka shocked, then her gaze shifted to the Incubator, then back to Madoka.“You’ve really come to torture them?”, Mami snapped at the alien. “You’d better get out before we shoot you to death!”This time it was Kyouko who held her back. If he was telling the truth (and they could be accused of many things but lying) this time they really had a common interest. Anyhow, their guest seemed confident enough to answer without so much as a blink.“Not at all. We’d merely like to persuade Akemi Homura and Kaname Madoka. Even though we’ve been observing humanity for aeons we don’t understand this kind of attachment. They do pointless things to each other’s bodies while they can’t seem to form a collective consciousness like we do. But we can count on it, even if we don’t understand. They’ll accept my offer and you can’t change it by shooting me a few times.”The Incubator raised his head with a triumphant smile. Perhaps it looked so only for the humans. The aliens, in principle, didn’t have emotions.“Of course making Akemi Homura turn into a witch right now would partly make up for our loss so we considered that possibility too. But our gain can be far greater if we let you follow your plan in a better way. Dr Walter Bishop who misleadingly wears our research team’s looks does surely understand why I told it all to you. To assure him about our benevolence we even brought the component with which David Robert Jones’ device can give Akemi Homura the power to alter the current timeline. The device is still accessible below the Kazamino base. We have no doubt that Dr Bishop could find the solution by himself but the University obviously doesn’t have the sufficient equipment to construct such a high tech part. Your time is running out. We can’t sustain the temporal shielding that has been concealing you much longer. Even as I speak the Observers, as you call them, are scanning this timeline for the point where they can get around it. In the vast majority of the possible futures they learn that you’re hiding at the University within 24 hours.”“So you say you’ll provide them everything and they only have to go back in time to prevent the Observers from taking over the Earth. This is exactly what they’d do anyway.”, Walbey summarized. “It sounds suspiciously good. What are you hiding? Why don’t you use this technology yourselves if you know it so well? What will happen to them if they change their own past? They can’t possibly get away with it!”„I can easily answer your second question: it’s blacklisted. According to our current theories it caused us more problems in the past than it solved. Of course we lack the reference data to know it for sure but there are signs. To be on the safe side we ‘jam’ the channels that we could use to receive messages from the future. We intentionally cover our ears, if you like. Even if we stopped the jamming now we would still be deaf six years ago. About the first one... Well, we’re not hiding anything. We count on Kaname Madoka returning to young enough to make a wish. We also predict that she’ll be willing to take this opportunity. Believe me, you don’t have an idea about the potential she has thanks to Akemi Homura. She can easily prevent the Observers’ invasion and provide us far more energy than we could collect in the last six years and can possibly collect in our remaining time on Earth. Even if she decides to avoid us they will still surely do their best to avoid the invasion. The Observers will be born because you unveiled our presence on Earth so Akemi Homura and Kaname Madoka will be forced to avoid this indiscretion. Therefore we'll profit from their actions.“And what about the third question...?”, Kyouko grunted. No matter how restrained she was since her plan’s backfire sobered her up now she lost her temper. She circled the alien like a predator circles its prey. “You’re provoking them to cause a time paradox because you yourselves are afraid to!”“Just for the record, we are unable to. The 63487 Linearity Convention stops us from doing so. But you humans haven’t signed the Convention.”The little white creature nonchalantly ignored the stabbing gazes pointed at him - but, at least, he finally answered Kyouko’s question.“The two volunteers will use the Device at their own risk. We don’t have any data what happens to those who succeed. The technology has been long known to us but we don’t know about anyone who successfully used it even though it’s a mathematically proven fact that it works. There must have been users in the past, it’s just that their fate is unknown to us. Some of them has probably erased their existences when they forced the Universe reshape its past and future around their actions. Some do probably still exist in closed timelike curves causing their own existence but they’re inaccessible to us. If we cared for the fate of Akemi Homura and Kaname Madoka I’d advise them to aim for this outcome.”The redhead anxiously listened him. Before her mind’s eyes she tore the Incubator to tiny little pieces but she had long known that it wouldn’t make her feel any better. On the top of that she found their irresponsibility disturbingly familiar.“So you’re playing with something you don’t know, once again... You’re just like us...”“This similarity may help our collaboration when you join the interstellar civilizations! You’ve already started to adopt some of our technology, after all...”, he turned his head to face the first human made magical girl of the history.“Stop here!” This time it had to be Homura who silenced the alien. They sat hand in hand with Madoka, facing their old enemy... their new ally.“We take the mission. But how do we get back in Kazamino?”“This time you won’t have to detonate anything. It’ll be our job to cloak you.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The Road of the Misfortune God v0.903 Madoka spaced out at the kitchen table. The fried egg on her plate seemed to hypnotize her but she didn’t even see the yellow disk. She saw the van and the crate in the cargo space, densely written with alien glyphs. They had hidden behind the crate and stayed lying on the floor in the darkness with their fingers intertwined while the others shut the door from the outside.“Madoka! Finish your breakfast already, you’ll be late from school!”“Y... Yes, mom!”She hesitantly picked up a morsel with her chopsticks. She began to chew but didn’t even feel the taste. The flash that had woken her had probably mixed up her senses. Or she might have been half asleep. She swallowed and reached for another piece. She lost the sight of her plate again. The mysterious device towered above her, the machine that had been said to be designed by the other Walter Bishop though it was based on Incubator technology. Then she saw Kyouko’s troubled face as she stared at her.“Madoka... You know me. I’m the one who dragged you into this madness and you know that you weren’t even the first. Madoka... I would have long deserved it, but as I can’t ask Sayaka... I’d like you to punch me in the face.”Madoka obeyed. Then she hugged the redhead with watery eyes not caring that she would smudge her face and clothes with blood. Then it was Homura’s turn to hug Kyouko and they said goodbye to Walbey too. Just like they were to leave forever... Even though they were the only ones who would remain the same and, in a sense, bring the end of the world for everyone else.A last embrace, then Homura resolutely stepped between the metal arms. Madoka followed and held on to her stronger than ever. They couldn’t be sure that it would work. Then came the dazzling flash that felt like six years shoved down her every sense at once. Of course she might have imagined it all.“What’s wrong, Maroka? Why don’t you eat? Your tummy hurts?”Her head jerked up, her eyes shot wide open and a few revealing teardrops trickled down her face. Then she eased a little as the pieces fell together. Of course, Takkun was four again in her world too...Junko raised her brow and glanced at her husband. Tomohisa decided to try to find some mundane explanation to his daughter’s behavior before he’d let himself seriously worry.“Is my cooking so bad?”, he asked half-joking. “Just tell me what would you like next and I’ll show you the perfect breakfast!”“Thank you, dad, it’s already perfect... Everything’s so perfect... I’m alive and you’re alive and I can eat your great cooking!”While Homura had to sit alone in a hospital bed with her soul gem in her hand. Madoka felt it crushingly unfair. She was here in this safe, loving home but Homura had become an outcast again. These were their roles, but...She gave up the hopeless fight with her tears.“I’m so sorry, Homura-chan...! You knew that I’m so bad at playing myself... But I’m even worse, I betray you in the very first minute I see them...!”, she sobbed.Tomohisa’s attempt to find a rational explanation had utterly failed. He exchanged a look with Junko and saw his wife take her phone. Madoka saw it too and gave a startled look at her mother.“Mom...! What are you doing?”“I’ll get some time off for the both of us. Then you’ll tell me what you got yourself into.”In this very moment Madoka’s phone rang. * This time there was no mistake: it was that ceiling, white and cold and perfectly indifferent. This ceiling had watched her first wake more than a hundred times, never remembering the previous times.She felt empty, like everything had been taken away from her. The last six years had vanished in an instant, the world that surrounded her was the old familiar world. Cold fear sneaked in her mind: what if she left Madoka in the future that ceased to exist? Then she had really lost everything. Then the last six years had become but a new piece in her vast collection of failures. Then she would have no chance to repeat that path in this new different world. This world wasn’t colliding with another, it wasn’t decaying anymore and there was no mad scientist to come for her help. But she didn’t even aspire to give this world into the hands of those bald men again. She watched her soul gem as a dark splodge appeared in it, then another. She felt dizzy and nauseous. Of course, she couldn’t afford being frightened, especially not in this body. She sighed and typed a very short question in her phone.“Do you remember?”She hunched up and waited for the answer, shivering and staring at her soul gem and the multiplying bubbles of darkness in its depths.“2017.”The message was just as brief as hers but it brought disproportionately big relief. Homura finally felt strong enough to get up and take action. Just like back then - yet completely differently.She stepped in front of the mirror. She leaned closer to face her former self. A pale and skinny schoolgirl looked back from the mirror through lavender eyes that had seen so much. Then she noticed the twin braids that weren’t woven by Madoka. She furiously reached for the ribbons to free her tresses from those mocks of braids.She stood back a little and the picture blurred just the way it used to. She raised her soul gem to her eyes. The new gem flashed and her vision was sharp again, as usual. She had another look at herself. The mirror didn’t lie, she was just as weak as she looked. One single lap around the school’s running track could have completely exhausted her. She couldn’t even think about carrying Madoka out of harm’s way. She still needed to go through her usual preparations before she would be ready for this new cycle.Even though she would have badly needed it she wasn’t lucky enough to be particularly good at healing magic. She had long realized that it wasn’t wise to leave her heart in the condition she got it back from the doctors. The surgery she had gone through had saved her life but hadn’t made her strong. This frail image of hers had burnt into her every cell so deeply that her healing magic aimed to return her body to this state. So she couldn’t rely on the permanent repairing spell that sufficiently protected the other magical girls. She needed something else so she started to use the methods of normal people, just like their weapons. She spent all the time she could spare through several cycles to learn meditation techniques to make a better diagnosis. Then she moved along to a very specific area of anatomy and surgery. Thirty or forty cycles later she could perform the operation she needed better than her own physician, with her own magical devices and with her eyes closed.After the surgery she usually went back to her bed to get her muscles in a better shape to be strong enough without transforming to her magical girl form – much stronger than anyone would have expected from such a frail girl. But this cycle was different. Now she knew something she hadn’t known earlier so she had to hurry. She sat down with her soul gem in her hand and conjured up the magical map of the neighborhood. She knew what she was looking for so she had a good chance to find the little glowing dot that marked the place of the passage someone had opened to follow her. And the dot was really there, slowly fading but clearly visible, just like the scar above her heart six years later. Her hand twitched a little then she waved the thought away. Madoka did never mind it and she had more important things to do.She sneaked along the corridors in pajamas. Then she froze at a particular door. She had messed up so many things in her past, again and again... Yuma, Amy and... she knew now who lived in this ward. She opened the door with her heart in her throat. Even she was surprised at her own nervousness.“Hi! What’s your name? I saw you in the yard yesterday but I couldn’t talk to you... you’re such a big girl after all. Why are you here in the hospital?”Homura looked at the child in relief. The little girl whom she found sitting on the edge of the bed with a plastic tray on her lap took the burden of speaking first from her.“I’m Akemi Homura. You can call me Homura. And I already know who you are, Momoe Nagisa. I’m glad to find you. Why am I here...? I had a heart surgery. And... because I’d like to fix what I messed up so many times.”“Good for you! Then you can eat as much cheese as you wish...!”, the child exclaimed then she covered her mouth with one hand, a bit startled. It came to her mind that she shouldn’t be happy about someone else’s illness.“It’s okay.”, Homura smiled. “I’m better now. But what happened yesterday? You know, it was quite a long time ago to me... Long before anything you remember...”“You’re strange!”, the little girl laughed and swept her hair back from her side. It was just as long as that of Homura and its white and wavy mass had taken up the space on the sheets next to her. She was no longer smiling. “And you can probably go home soon.”“This afternoon. But I can’t go home, no one needs me there. I’ll stay here in Mitakihara and go to school here. Someone is waiting for me there, someone good and kind. We can come to see you together if you wish. You don’t have to listen to white furry creatures. Actually, you shouldn’t.”Of course. This was just another cycle. She wanted to become friends with Tomoe Mami and she didn’t like the idea of this child biting off the blonde’s head. So she stayed. She sat next to Nagisa and took her time to talk with her. Then she realized that she should have been in a hurry – if she wasn’t already late. She didn’t have much time left until the last rounds and she still had to take care of that glowing dot on her mental map. It had almost completely faded away but she could find another which moved slowly before her magical senses. It was so different from the witches’ signature that she wouldn’t even have noticed it if she had been hunting normally.“I’m sorry, Nagisa, I have something important to do. See you!”Then her eyes found the tray the child put aside.“May I borrow that knife?”A little later she stalked an alley not far from the hospital park. She kept staring hard at her soul gem like she was looking for aliens in the dark unfriendly bowels of a spaceship. Sparse blinks meant a faraway target. Quick pulsing warned her to be careful: the tide could easily turn and the hunter would become the prey. She only missed two things: the beeping of the instrument - and some proper weapon.She hoped she hadn’t already messed up the plan that she was working on, together with Madoka. After finishing her hunt she would have to hurry back to the hospital to sign her leaving papers and fill out another bundle for the school transfer. She transformed to her magical girl dress and prepared to use her shield.She found her target on a little square surrounded by old high-rise buildings. The man walked slowly with a very small but very heavy briefcase. Homura’s hand instinctively stirred and she vanished just to appear again with her knife at Dr. Jones’ throat. But his surprise didn’t last for more than a second.“I have bad news for you: your guns have no effect on me. But why would you do any harm to me? If I recall correctly you only want to protect Kaname Madoka.”The familiar conceited smile made her hand flinch. If she had a proper scalpel instead of Nagisa’s butter knife it would have left a little trail of blood on the scarred skin.“I have bad news for you: this is not a gun and I’m not the one you’re used to.”, she hissed. “Just look down. We both know that I can kill you if I tear you apart. And I swear I’ll do it, even with my nails, if I have to.”“Why, some change, at last! I must admit that it was getting boring to stalk you... I’d be happy to shake you off and I guess you feel the same. I have only one problem: if you fail again I’ll have to keep playing this stupid game too. If you think you know me well enough you’re wrong. If anyone can help you out of this time loop, that’s me. I know the enemy you struggle to beat.”“I still have bad news: Walpurgis doesn’t matter this time. The time and the place will be the same, but this time I hunt for something else. I don’t want you to meddle in my preparations but I want you to be at the usual place on the 30th of April, at 6pm sharp. Prepare like you usually do, we’ll need your passage. And never forget: I sleep with both eyes open.”Indeed, sometimes she had really been awake for several days in a row. Of course she needed sleep too but the rest of the world could only sense a jerk of those hours in suspended time, when she failed to take the exact same position she left to take a rest. But she had to pay dearly for these stolen hours: these were her worst awakenings with a horribly drained soul gem.Jones seemed to read her mind and played the Incubator again, perpetually smiling at her.“Aren’t you a little overconfident, missy...?”He wanted to say something more but a bullet tore up the pavement right next to them. The two parted with a double jump. * Tomoe Mami was sitting in the classroom (often referred to as glassroom by the students), waiting for the end of her last lesson. Her thoughts were too occupied with the duties of another life to be really present. Something was in the air. She had been tense all morning. Something at the edge of her senses sent the signals of a grief seed ready to hatch. Something that was so far that she shouldn’t even have felt it.She tried to contact Kyubey but she could only get evasive answers from the white little creature. He always claimed that he had been watching over magical girls for aeons - yet he didn’t seem to have a clue what was happening this time and he even warned Mami not to check up on the signal. He asked her to look for a certain girl in the school instead, a mysterious teenager who seemed to have the potential to be the strongest magical girl of the century - yet she had somehow managed to stay under his radar, until now.A distinct flash of magic helped her make a decision. Strange and dark: witch-colored would have been the right expression. The teacher had just finished the lesson, the timing was perfect. Mami outran her classmates as she rushed downstairs, out of the school, into the bushes of the park. When she left on the other side she was already in her magical girl dress. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her and they were far quicker and stronger than they looked.She conjured up her soul gem to confirm the feeling that had been haunting her since she woke up. The gem indicated a witch nearby, in the direction of the hospital. Of course, these monsters had to appear where they could do the greatest harm... Mami knew that witches looked for weak people in despair to feed on their misery and make them bring even more misfortune on this world.Her target wasn’t far. The blonde girl shot a ribbon straight up to the roof of the next building and used it to dart up the shiny glass wall, just like she ran on the blue sky itself. She could get a clear view on her opponent from above so she could comfortably plan her strategy.As she looked down the edge of the roof she almost lost her balance in her surprise. She understood now why the witch felt so strange from the distance. This monster didn’t hide in a maze like any normal witch should but took the shape of a girl and walked among the people. And she didn’t even fake a normal girl. Her outfit was plain and pale compared to Mami’s but there was no mistake: she was in a magical girl dress. Mami couldn’t believe her eyes. She double-checked but nothing changed: the impostor stood before her magical senses in vivid witch color and her victim glimmered with faint magic, the kiss of the witch that controlled him.Kyubey must have been right, this monster was probably encouraged by the Night of Walpurgis at hand. Mami didn’t hesitate any more. She spread her arms and turned around. When she faced the witch again there were muskets in both her hands. She hopped on the rails, aimed at the witch and fired. She sent down the second bullet in mid-air then summoned more ribbons to slow her fall. * *Jones turned around to disappear in another alley but suddenly everything turned grey around him as he felt the light weight of the girl. Bony hands searched him thoroughly.“I’ll need it.”, Homura held up the pistol that had just been in his pocket. He saw a familiar blonde magical girl hanging frozen in the air, surrounded by a whole bouquet of muskets. Jones’ surprise turned into gloating.“This time you two got at each other’s throats quite early...”Then it was over. The girl let go and the world’s colors returned. He could have watched the duel in real time if he hadn’t chosen to turn around to disappear at last.Naturally the bullets missed Homura, she dodged every single one of them like no one else could.“Playtime’s over! This time you won’t get away!”, Mami shouted. A golden net crawled out of the pavement around the dark haired girl and with a flash it caught – the empty air.Mami saw that it wasn’t so easy to surprise her opponent. It looked like the witch predicted her attacks. Like she was reading her mind. Or... like they had already fought earlier. But if surprise couldn’t help, brute force would. She whirled around again to take over the whole square with her ribbons.She looked around and was pleased with the result. Every way out was blocked by a web of yellow ribbons like the nest of mythical giant spiders and her black haired target stayed inside.“Tomoe Mami, what’s gotten into you? Why the hell are we fighting?”, the witch shouted at her.The blonde answered with another shot. Mami isn’t a spider, the ribbons aren’t sticky, Homura reminded herself. She dodged this bullet too and hopped on the golden path of web around the walls to get behind her opponent. The ribbons weren’t sticky but they formed loops and reached for her feet. She jumped a little too late, a noose caught her ankle and dragged her down. Mami turned around triumphantly, with the end of a ribbon in her hand. Homura knelt on the pavement, swearing quietly.Something slammed through the magical spiderweb, something heavy and strong enough to break the threads. A familiar white Prius stopped with screeching tires, right between the two girls. Its closest door sprang open.“Come on, Homura, get in the car!”, Junko shouted at her from behind the wheel. “You’ll have enough time to make big eyes at me later!”The dark haired girl shook off her surprise and aimed down to shoot through the ribbon that held her ankle then she hopped on the back seat next to Madoka. The pinkette wanted to fall on her neck but her seat belt didn’t let her – but Homura was free.“You’d better sit down and buckle up!”, Junko warned her. “Madoka said that you can take anything but I’m still sure she wouldn’t want you to get hurt!”The electric motor squealed and the gasoline engine roared as they retreated from the square. Then the car turned around and they finally ran forward, followed by a bewildered magical girl.“Kaname-san...”Homura felt awkward. She had to talk to yet another Junko... though this one was the same she knew - minus her memories of the last six years. The girl instinctively fell back to formal speech like she did at the beginning of every cycle. “How did Kaname-san recognize me...? You shouldn’t remember...”“Damn if I remember! I’ve just realized that I haven’t even known my own daughter... But when I saw a skinny little chick in this dress and hair and a knife at someone’s throat I knew that it had to be you!”, she laughed and offered a hand above her seat. “Kaname Junko, again. Welcome back in the family! Just don’t try to talk to me like I was my own grandmother!”Their handshake couldn’t last long. Junko sped through a red light, pedal to the metal, then forced the car into a sharp turn with both hands, leaving black stripes of rubber on the asphalt. The golden brown load that attached herself to the back of the car with a shiny ribbon slammed in a wide curve into a store window but it wasn’t enough to get rid of her. She instantly sprang out of the store and followed them running on the walls above the bystanders’ heads, careful not to cut someone in half with her magical threads. As soon as she could run straight again she fired instantly and hardly missed the front left wheel by a hair’s breadth.“The hell’s wrong with her?! Madoka, didn’t you say that she was your friend?”They meandered through the traffic, raced along the road below the overpass from where a Madoka had once dropped a Sayaka, sped through the bridge into a parking lot at the docks in the industrial area. Junko slammed on brakes at the pier almost sending Mami flying into the river. But the magical girl shot a ribbon at the tip of a tower crane and flung onto the top of its cab. She sprang up, stepped out of the dent she made in the roof with one foot, pulled a ribbon out of her hair and rolled it into a spiral in the air before her.“Reverse! Get out of here, now!”, Homura shouted. Mami called at the same time.“Tiro Finale!”Junko let off the gas and stepped on the brakes again as the golden explosion punched a sizable crater into the road behind the car. The rear wheels plopped into the pit and the Prius left trapped on the edge.“Do you often make such mess? How is it possible that no one knows about you magical girls?”The thin girl was still confused.“W-we usually don’t do anything like this... Normally no one sees us fight!”Mami just stepped off the cab’s roof and landed gracefully in front of the car. Junko sprang out in anger to block the magical girl’s way.“I don’t know what the hell you want from my daughters but leave them alone! Shouldn’t you chase witches instead?”Mami stared at her in surprise: this woman was the first adult who knew about witches. But she didn’t possibly know everything given that she was just helping one escape.“Step aside! One of them is hiding right here, in your car! You’ve probably never had two daughters, you’re just deceived by that monster. But everything will be all right. When you wake up, you won’t remember anything.”“What monster?! They’re perfectly normal, just have a look at them! But if you lay a finger on them...”“I... I think I know.”, Homura said close to tears. She had just arrived but Junko had already saved her and Madoka held on her hand in a way that made it clear for their attacker that they belonged together and she would protect Homura with her life. The dark haired girl wasn’t used to such reception. “I’m not normal at all. But, believe me, Tomoe Mami, I’m not a witch. What do you think, is this a grief seed?”Mami’s eyes widened with surprise as Homura held up the strange, shapeless gem. She didn’t even have to grab her own to feel the magic it radiated.“I have no idea what it is, but it really can’t be a grief seed... But why does it feel like one?”“My contract... It wasn’t made with Kyubey.”, Homura answered evasively.Mami examined Madoka and Junko too and found no sign of the witch’s kiss. The blonde girl was embarrassed. She found a family that included a peculiar magical girl whom she hadn’t recognized even though she should have known her earlier. And the other daughter seemed so gifted that she could even be the one Kyubey had mentioned. And the way Mami had introduced to them, attacking the strange magical girl then chasing the whole family through half of the city... She was in deep blush, her confident facade failed her. She apologized stammering a good deal then she introduced herself, properly this time. But they all seemed to already know her which made the situation even more embarrassing...“I don’t know how you would explain this rampage to the police but I’m sure that we shouldn’t stay here.”, Junko suggested. “It would be the best to have some sweets and have a talk somewhere. Just help me get the car out of this nice little crater...”The two magical girls grabbed the back of the Prius and put it back on the road with ease.“There’s a new creperie near the hospital. There we can talk everything over if you don’t mind.”, Junko said while they all got back in the car.Homura slapped her forehead in panic.“The hospital! I’m late! I should have signed my leaving papers! And I didn’t even apply to the school! How can I go to the same class with Madoka?”“All right, change of plans! We’ll stop by the hospital, set you free and have a nice talk somewhere afterward. Then we’ll give a lift to Tomoe-san and you come with us. I’ve already told Tomohisa that you’ll come to our house for the night. He can’t wait to see the mysterious beauty Madoka kept mentioning.”, Junko winked at her through the mirror. “And you don’t have to worry about the school. You probably know that Kazuko is a good friend of mine. I’ll call her later. I think you can go together with Madoka tomorrow, you can fill those papers later.”Mami gave Homura a puzzled look.“Didn’t she say you’re her daughter... Akemi-san...?”“Wait, Mami-san!”, Madoka cut in. “Actually, she’s not, but she’ll be. She was in hospital for a long time and mom didn’t even know her. But from now on, she’ll live with us.”“You say that your mom has just picked an unknown orphan in a hospital and adopted her while she already had an own child? You did something great, Kaname-san!”The two other girls weren’t surprised that the appreciation in her voice was colored by little drops of envy.“Not exactly.”, Junko laughed. “Homura was found by Madoka. And we can’t even adopt her because her family would surely object, even though I don’t know on what grounds... But Madoka knows her well. She told me how Homura had lived with us for years.”The blonde girl didn’t understand a thing. Junko watched gloating a little as their guest tried to make at least a little sense of the things she learned. Good, it had been just as difficult for her in the morning.She saw through the mirror that her “daughters” exchanged a look. They were probably talking without words. They must have been pondering how much of their story they were supposed to tell to Mami. Junko suspected that even her orientation hadn’t been in the two girl’s plans.“The thing is that it was Homura-chan who saved me from Walpurgis six years ago. We’ve been together since then. We love each other from the bottom of our hearts.”Mami curiously studied her. She saw lucid eyes and a completely serious face. This girl was so small, so young, so pink... Yet she could hold her head high and confess without blushing that she was in love with another girl. Mami knew that she wouldn’t be able to do the same. But she was sure that Madoka was telling the truth, every time she touched Homura gave her feelings away.But nothing else she said made any sense. She really didn’t help Mami understand what was happening. She didn’t even want to. Homura had already been in her shoes, she had told enough about it. If they had simply told the truth in Mami’s face she would never have believed them. They needed a bunch of strange details that connected to things the blonde had already known. But above all, they had to intrigue and confuse her.“Walpurgisnacht... But that’ll be...”Homura flicked her hair back as theatrically as she could packed inside a car.“30th of April, 2011, the night of Walpurgis. The witch appears between 6 and 8 pm. It’s far stronger than anything you could have ever seen. And if it isn’t stopped it’ll devastate the most densely populated districts of the city. There’s only one magical girl who can take her on alone and that’s Madoka. I’ve tried roughly a hundred times, that’s how my magic is. I’ve even tried in teams. I’ve tried together with you, with Sakura Kyouko, with Miki Sayaka. We could never defeat her without Madoka - but saving her from becoming a magical girl was the very goal I tried again and again to achieve.Mami frowned at Kyouko’s mentioning. Truth is often recognized through its unpleasantness. The blonde girl finally began to believe them.“I understand you... We live dangerous lives. But Kaname-san has just mentioned years. So you’ve succeeded at least once, right? Why are you trying again?”“Because there was someone who helped me. An outsider. The whole world became aware of us magical girls and it was even worse than we had thought. But we finally know what went wrong so we’ve both come back. Our real enemy’s going to be there at Walpurgisnacht, the one that changed the future. If Madoka can tell her wish there no one can stand in our way anymore.”“I don’t understand.”, Mami shook her head. “Haven’t you fought the whole time to stop Madoka from being a magical girl...? And if you two still want to use her wish why can’t she make that wish right now?”“She may be right, Homura-chan!”, Madoka interrupted. “We don’t have to undo that specific fork after all... I’d like better if you wouldn’t suffer so much! And I don’t even understand who would help us later... We’d better choose a different path!”Her words would have been unintelligible for anyone but Homura but they convinced her. Indeed, if they’d trade their future for that of those two they’d be alone. They would follow their track and get stuck in the same trap from which they had helped their parallels out. But this time they’d be the trapped Goddess and Devil - without the hope of any help.“All right! Then we go back to our best traditions... Let’s catch Kyubey and face him! I don’t think we can do much but walk about and use some magic here and there. I hope we can lure him out.”The blonde girl gave Homura a perplexed look.“Tradition...? Catch Kyubey...? You must have come from a strange future...”“Stranger than you could imagine. But you were there too. We went on our last mission together.”“So what do we do, girls? Should we stop to look for the little bastard?”, Junko asked while she pulled over to the slow lane. She wasn’t thrilled with her daughter’s idea but she felt that the girl knew much more than she revealed and didn’t just decide on a whim.“You seem to be on bad terms with him...”, Mami murmured.“You’d feel the same in our position.”, Homura answered.“Yes, mom, it’ll be fine here!”, Madoka pointed at a friendly looking park. They left the main road and stopped at a pathway. The magical girls parted ways to search different streets. Junko waited for the two to leave then she turned to her daughter.“Madoka! I must admit that you surprised me this morning, but I accept your choice. You have good eyes, Homura is really pretty in her own way and what’s more important, she seems to be a good child, just like you. But never forget that this girl is sick. I’ve tried to get used to the thought that she’ll live with us from now on. That’s why I called her my daughter but I kept an eye on her too and saw how she looked at me. I saw the same big eyes she made when I stopped to get her in the car. Madoka! Homura just can’t wrap her head around the idea that it’s possible for anyone, except you, to care for her. I’m sure that she sticks to you and she’s thankful for anything from you. If it was anyone else I’d be sure that they were just using her, but I believe in you. Still, I’m worried. She’s in a great danger even though you truly love her. You two seem to live dangerous lives and I’m afraid that one day she’ll do something terribly stupid for you. I can only hope that you can save her from herself that day. You said that she has a family but she’d be better off without them. Now I’d like to smack them, one by one. I’m quite sure that she became like this because of them. And I don’t understand the future me. Tell me, Madoka, what happened? Did I fail Homura? Or it was her who did something wrong?”She just nodded at the sight of Madoka’s tears. There was something wrong with her real daughter too. Of course that long war with the aliens could make a terrible damage in her but Junko felt that there was something more. She waited patiently for Madoka’s answer.“You’re right in everything, Mom... except that you’ve never done anything wrong to Homura-chan! You two were a true family to her and she had been better until a few days ago... Until six years from now. It’s only our fault that you weren’t there for her...! It’s only our fault that that other enemy from the future arrived. They’re from much-much farther than us. I’m stupid to tell you but you’ll keep quiet about it, right, mom? One day they simply appeared everywhere and we couldn’t even get back in the city... When we finally got home we found you all, even Takkun, lying on the bathroom’s floor... with bullets in your heads!”Madoka fell silent and buried her face in Junko’s blazer, shaking with sobs all over. Homura got back in this very moment, with empty hands. She glanced at mother and daughter hugging and kept quiet, only her eyes got shinier. She felt like a trespasser. She took a hesitant step backward but Junko stopped her with a wave of her hand and collected her in her arms, next to Madoka. She gently placed her hand on the girl’s head and sadly looked into the lavender eyes she found so similar to her own.“I think I begin to understand you. How many times were you left alone, again and again...?”Junko was a good leader. She didn’t only care for her team but she was used to quickly adapt to new circumstances. This day had become her proof. She used to be the mother of a normal and healthy teenage girl – and, suddenly, she had two broken time travelers under her wings. She didn’t expect it to be easy with these children but she was resolved to do her best, together with Tomohisa. There was only one thought she couldn’t wrap her head around – that the girls in her arms were her own orphans... She could only hope that it didn’t mean the inevitable end of their lives within a mere six years.Mami didn’t wait too long to arrive. She wasn’t alone: she came with Kyubey on her shoulder. The blonde stopped when she saw the two girls cry on Junko’s shoulders but the alien was unmoved. It hopped down to the ground and nonchalantly walked behind them with its signature smile on its muzzle. Junko couldn’t see anything but the girls felt the creature’s presence and turned around. From the way they wiped their eyes Junko suspected what they saw and she unwittingly gritted her teeth. She was standing within an arm’s length from the culprit behind her daughters’ suffering and she couldn’t even give it a stabbing glare!“Madoka, Mami told me why you’re looking for me. If you make a contract with me you can be the strongest magical girl of the last thousand years. If you accept a life of fighting against witches I‘ll grant you a wish. With your potential it can be anything you can imagine. If you know what that wish would be just tell me and we can make the contract right now.”, the three girls heard Kyubey’s enthusiastic mental ‘voice’.“That’s right. I know what’s the wish that’s worth trading my life and soul for! I wish to erase every w...”But she couldn’t finish. She covered her mouth and glanced around in panic. Mami, Homura, Junko... they were all standing around, unarmed and unprepared. But Kyubey laid stretched on the sidewalk, full of bullet holes.“I... I didn’t...”, Homura mumbled in deep blush, raising her empty hands.No one but Madoka understood why she said it – but everyone knew that she was telling the truth.Junko didn’t waste their time. She grabbed the three shocked girls at once and steered them to the car.“Come on, we’ve got to get out of here! Madoka, what should we know about your other enemy?”“It doesn’t matter anymore, does it, Homura-chan? We can tell it to mom...”Homura just nodded as they hopped inside. Junko started the car and they merged the highway that crossed the downtown.“They’re people... from the future. For some reason they came back to our time and they claimed the whole world. They manipulate time just like Homura-chan and they even calculate the future. I’m sure that they’re already waiting for us!”“Then we’re going in the best possible direction. Calculate this, bastards!”, Junko answered in her grimmest tone.“Why? Where are we going?”“I have no idea!”Then she steadied the car and summarized what she had heard.“So they’re time travelers and you want to get in their way, in their own past. Don’t say that you’re surprised! The only thing I don’t understand is why they killed the alien instead of you. There’s a lot of him but only two of you!”“I think they’re afraid of what I’d do if they killed Madoka. There must be only one thing they fear even more and that’s what would happen if they killed me. They probably want us to play along until Walpurgisnacht. They want me to move in to Madoka’s room, to go to school with her, to fight for her, to save her. And to disclose the truth about magical girls!”, Homura finished gritting her teeth.“Akemi-san!”, Mami began. “If it’s true then nothing but Kaname-san’s wish can stop them! But what should we do now that they’ve shot Kyubey?!”“We’ll have to find him again!”, Madoka replied. “He can’t be too far. Mami-san, it’s not that easy to kill an Incubator. First, we need a safe place without Observers where we could meet him!”The two other girls had the same ready answer.“A witch’s maze!”“All right, a maze then. Mami-san, can you sense any witch nearby?”The blonde girl conjured up her soul gem and held it up with closed eyes.“We’re out of luck. There are no witches in my range, not even at the most dangerous places. Not even a loose familiar. The only anomaly I sense is Akemi-san. Oh... Akemi-san, you still haven’t told me why your soul gem radiates like a grief seed!”Homura bit her lip. She looked at Mami, then at Madoka.“Poor Tomoe Mami... You can’t even imagine it’s how easy for us to get into a witch’s maze...”The car suddenly came to a halt. Only the seat belts kept them from hitting the front seats or the windscreen.“Well, Homura, I don’t think they’d like you two to play schoolgirls...”, Junko said from the front seat.A roadblock obstructed their way. They saw police cars, a barbed-wire fence and an armed squad in more than up-to-date uniforms that shouldn’t have existed for six more years. Suspicious gas tanks were standing behind the roadblock and the ominous Observers walked among them in their hats and suits, giving orders to their squad. A similar barricade appeared from thin air behind the Prius.Then everything froze. Junko, Mami and the whole army outside became parts of a black and white still image before Madoka’s eyes. Homura sat there holding her shoulder, fixing her gaze on hers.“Madoka... Please, forgive me. We can’t run away anymore, there’s nowhere to. They’d may leave me alone in the next world but...”, she wiped her eyes with her other hand, “I’ve had enough. I won’t go anywhere without you! Madoka... I’ll betray you in the end... to let you walk forward. I beg you, please realize without me what we’ve come for!”Her fingers clenched the grip of the pistol. She raised the barrel to her temple with a trembling hand. Her other hand was about to let go of the pinkette’s shoulder but Madoka got a firm grip on it.“I promise I’ll come back for you. And when I do, hold on to me like I did when we came back here! I couldn’t make it out there, all alone... I need you, Homura-chan!”, Madoka sniffed. The world looked to ripple before her eyes. She blinked to clear her vision while her lips touched Homura’s. The two girls connected in a last kiss.Then they parted and the world exploded. The ringing in Madoka’s ears devoured every other sound. Blood and brains and tufts of black hair covered the ceiling, the back seat, the windows.Junko sprang up and leaned over her seat to shout at Homura then she grabbed her and started to shake her by the shoulders. The girl just sat still in her stainless funeral dress, hands laid in her lap, holding her soul gem. She looked back at Junko with a faint grateful smile and a gruesome bloody crater in her head. Even Madoka felt the slap Homura received: she began to make sounds out through the ringing.“I didn’t look for this happiness in the past... But thank you for worrying, Junko-san...”, Homura replied in a dreamy tone like she spoke from another world. The horrible wound that would have instantly killed any normal human began to heal right before their eyes while darkness consumed the deep purple gem in the same terrifying pace. Then the stone cracked and the gleam faded from the lavender eyes.Mami saw the gem evaporate into trails of black smoke and escape, wriggling through the cracks of the doors. Mami felt a lump in her throat. She opened the door with shaking hands to run at their mysterious enemy – but Madoka stopped her.“You may forget about them, Mami-san.”, she said with a sad, crooked smile. “I’ve already seen Homura-chan like this. They don’t stand a chance within the Schwarzschild radius. And it’ll be really big this time.”She told it like she was proud of something... or someone. The blonde girl wished not to understand what was happening. These two were genuine lunatics, worse than she had imagined, and they just had made something terrible happen, something she had suspected for a good while but she had always been afraid of the devastating certainty.The houses seemed to tilt around them and the sky turned rainbow. The glass panes exploded and an endless stream of birds poured through the broken windows to gather over the road in a wailing maelstrom. A grotesque army marched through the gateways, hundreds of braided and bespectacled tin soldiers in Homura’s magical girl dress.The first line knelt down and took aim. The soldiers of the second line raised their rifles too. The barrage knocked over and ruptured the police cars and the gas tanks. Yellow mist covered the barricade. Madoka watched mesmerized as two familiar dolls banged an Observer’s head against the pavement until the amber gas solidified around him. Then the dolls stood up, flashed their pointy teeth in a wide grin and bowed.“Kaname-san... How long have you known?”, the blonde girl asked.“Since the day I met Homura-chan.”, Madoka answered while she laid the dead girl’s body on the back seat and closed her eyes.Someone knocked. A doll with spiky blue hair was standing outside, grinning and dangling Kyubey behind the window.“I don’t understand why you care about that empty shell.”, the Incubator remarked without the slightest sign of fear, like everything happened as he had planned. “The entity that used to be Akemi Homura is out here now. Our measurements show that the whole city is her labyrinth now.”“I know, Kyubey.”, Madoka answered.“If you still want to be a magical girl I can help you. You’ll just have to make a wish.”“Mom, thank you for everything you did for us. We will meet again. See you, Mami-san!”Madoka hugged Junko and Mami through the backrests. Then she stepped out of the car, straightened and took a deep breath. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Highly Responsive to Prayers v0.9 [Boston, Massachusetts, USA, October 2011]Olivia shivered with cold as she stepped in the laboratory. She left her umbrella at the door and reached into her coat’s inner pocket for a closed envelope while she stepped to the old scientist.“What’s this?”, Walter asked.“I have no idea! I was stopped by two young girls on the street. I had never seen them before. They asked me to give it to Walter Bishop. I don’t know how they knew that I know you. Then they simply vanished while I was reading the direction.”Walter pondered over the writing. From Madoka and Homura with love.“Madoka, Homura... It feels like it should ring a bell, but... I don’t know.”He clumsily opened the envelope, too confused to do it at once. “Those removed pieces of my brain, they may know...”The old scientist drew a single sheet of paper from its cover.“I’m sure that they’re those girls, they were in school uniforms though. But this drawing won’t really help to find them...”, Olivia remarked.Dr Bishop wiped his eyes with a shaking hand and murmured something Olivia couldn’t understand.“Walter, are you okay?”The old scientist didn’t even look at her. He eyed the drawing in a trance.“Thank you, my God!”The two girls were standing there, hand in hand, one of them holding out a white tulip.
10021202	Wishing you were somehow	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Other", "Characters": "Hiro Hamada, Wasabi-No Ginger, Honey Lemon (Marvel), Gogo Tomago, Fred \| Fredzilla, Tadashi Hamada", "Fandom": "Big Hero 6 (2014)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Dirtkid123", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-02-28T00:00:00", "words": "344", "Additional Tags": null, "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 }	It had been 3 years since Tadashi had died, and yet, he was still living on in everyone's memory. Hiro had finally gotten to the big day, of Graduation... He only wished that Tadashi would be able to see him and be proud.After Hiro's diploma was handed to him he dashed off the stage with his friends behind him, calling out for him to come back. As he ran to his brothers grave, he sobbed uncontrollably. When he finally reached the tombstone if his brother, he collapsed in a fit of tears. As he sobbed, he started to choke out the words of Aunt Cass' favorite song from the Phantom of the Opera...You were my one companion you were all that mattered... You were once my friend and brother then my world was shattered. He sobbed harder and harder eventually crying out for his Niisan to come back to him. All the while his friends had been watching him silently crying as well. They stepped out of their hiding place singing along.'Wishing you were somehow here again wishing you were somehow near. Somehow it seemed if I just dreamed, somehow you would be here! Wishing I could hear your voice again knowing that I never would...' Hiro continued the lyrics; 'Dreaming of you won't help me to do, all that you dreamed I could! Passing bells and sculpted angels, cold and monumental seem for you the wrong companions, you were warm and gentle... Too many years fighting back tears why can't the past just die?! Wishing you were somehow here again knowing we must say goodbye. Try to forgive teach me to live, give me the strength to try! No more memories no more silent tears no more gazing across the wasted years help me to say goodbye- help me to say goodbye!'At the end of the song, the entire gang was to the point of tears, Baymax silent as well. As they sat, it was as if the wind could be heard whispering a faint ' I love you, Hiro...'
10030685	Too scared to dream too	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "Multi", "Characters": "Magnus Bane, Alec Lightwood, Lydia Branwell, Isabelle Lightwood, Simon Lewis, Raphael Santiago", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by flyingonthewind", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-01T00:00:00", "words": "10,672", "Additional Tags": "Soulmates, AU, All Human", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Simon Lewis/Raphael Santiago, Lydia Branwell/Alec Lightwood", "Series": "A Soulmate Trilogy", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	The door clicked closed behind him, softly, shutting out the laughter and chatter drifting through the apartment. Air left Alec’s lungs on a long exhale as his shoulders relaxed. When they’d first viewed the apartment a few years back, he had instantly fallen in love with this room with its dark wooden floor that glowed warmly in the sunlight and its large, panoramic window overviewing a bustling New York City street. It had been a large factor in deciding to get the place despite the hefty price-tag, and he had swiftly claimed the room as his office. The walls were lined with heavy wooden bookcases, the sturdy shelves only just able to sustain the heavy weight of hundreds of books carefully arranged by the colour of their spine. An old-fashioned wood-carved desk was pushed against the wall opposite the door, and was covered in papers and books in a systematic mess that only Alec knew to decipher. His favourite part of his office was, however, the deep windowsill. Decked out with dark blue pillows to match the blue and silver stencil running along the edge of the ceiling, the bench offered the perfect spot for him to hide away from the world with his many manuscripts. Alec smiled to himself as he got settled with his freshly refilled cup of black coffee and the surprisingly gripping manuscript he had been engrossed with for most of the day. He allowed himself a few moments of starring at the people milling about in the street below – a pastime that had proven on occasions to be fairly distracting – before delving back into the elaborate fantasy universe of the novice writer. He was pulled back into the real world some time later by a shy yet insisting knock on the door. He looked up in time to catch a little familiar head peaking through the tiny split between the door and the frame. “Hey, Raf,” Alec smiled, waving for his son to come in. Rafael was a small child with unruly black curls and a smile to rival the sun. He made his way into the room, carefully, clutching a notebook and a box of crayons to his chest. “Can I work in here with you, dad?” he asked, blue eyes round. “Mrs. Garroway says we have to draw posters for the school play. It’s a comp’tition, so it has to be good!” “Sure, Buddy,” with a smile, Alec effortlessly lifted the seven-year-old from the floor and placed him in the opposite end of the windowsill. This was a ritual they had. When Rafael came home from school after a long day of noise and stimulation, he would seek out the quiet pressurelessness of his fathers office. Over the years the two of them had spent countless of hours on the windowsill, working together in confidential silence. “What are you going to draw?” Alec asked as he took a sip of his now cold coffee. He winched, but still downed the remains. “A dragon,” Rafael hummed, shifting through the notebook in search of a blank page. “Sounds fun. Is there a dragon in the school play though?” Alec watched the frown of concentration on his son’s face as Rafael carefully opened up the case of crayons. They were a birthday present from his aunt Izzy, and he always treated them with outmost care. “Nope,” Rafael shook his head lightly, picking out the shade he wanted for his dragon. “But Mr. Bane promised there will be one in the play next year.” “Yeah? Then what’s in the play this year?” Alec let his fingers drift over the pages of the nearly finished manuscript still in his lap, though he continued watching his son. “A boring princess.” Rafael answered indifferently, starting in on his drawing. “I thought you liked princesses well enough?” Alec frowned. “I like princesses that fight and stuff. Not princesses who just wait around to be saved.” Alec laughed softly, turning to look down at the street below. It was a little calmer, now, as evening was descending. He could clearly hear his sister’s voice in his son’s words. “Right,” he smiled, “but if it’s a poster for the play, shouldn’t you draw something from the play?” “Nuh-uh,” Rafael didn’t look up from his work. “Mrs. Garroway said we could draw what we wanted. She just encursed us to draw something from the play, but I want to draw a dragon, so.” Rafael shrugged nonchalantly, and Alec shook his head at him, eyes crinkling as he smiled widely. “Well, then. Cary on.” He watched his son for a moment longer before turning back to his manuscript. A while later, could have been 5 minutes, could have been half an hour, a throat clearing pulled the both of them from the bubble they had build around themselves. Lydia raised an amused eyebrow at them when they turned towards her with matching round and surprised eyes. “Boys,” she said, folding her arms over her chest and leaning against the doorframe. “Grandma Lightwood will be here in 15 minutes. You’ve been warned.” The annoyed twitch of her husbands eye and the pout taking over Rafael’s face made her fight down a smile. “Get washed up.” She shook her head, pushed away from the door and marched away. Schooling his face, Alec turned back to Rafael. “Come on Buddy,” he smiled, putting away his work, and standing up. “But I’m not done!” Rafael protested, tilting the notebook for Alec to see. He might be biased, but Alec was quite certain that there was a highly talented and creative soul harbouring in his son, just waiting to be cultivated. The dragon unfolding over the page was nothing like what Alec had expected. Red and orange lines shaped out large, bat-like wings that spread out over the page. A small, cat-like body huddled in-between the wings, triangular eyes stared out of a pointy face, as the creature crouched down in front of a warrior princess, long-sword drawn against the enemy. “You can work on it before bed instead of a story, okay?” Alec ruffled the curls as Rafael huffed, resigned. “Come on, Buddy. Lets get washed up,” He lifted Rafael down from the windowsill, letting his hands stay on the tiny shoulders as he walked his son out of the office. (*)“Bye mom. We’ll see you next week,” Alec kept the smile in place right up until th44e door had firmly closed behind his mother. Then he let it drop along with his shoulders and head. Having his mother over for dinner always left him utterly drained for energy. On his way to the kitchen he pocked his head into Rafael’s room, to find the boy asleep amidst papers and crayons. With a shake of the head he stepped into the room to gather the things and place them in their spot on the little desk under the window. “The she-dragon’s gone,” Lydia turned to send him a tight smile from her place next to the boiling kettle. If Alec had chosen the place for his office, then Lydia had agreed because of the kitchen. This was her domain; the place to which she retreated to find peace. As such, it was always kept meticulously clean, not a thing out of place. “Good,” she said, ”Did you check in on Rafa?” Alec nodded, walking over to fold his arms around her. “He’s out cold.” He pressed a quick kiss to the crown of her head. 8 years of mariage had build up a relaxed familiarity between them. Lydia hummed, leaning her head back into his shoulder. “You want tea?” “Yes, please,” Alec reached past her to grab a couple of mugs as she quietly started filling tealeaves into a filter, and pouring on the boiled water. “I got an email from mrs. Garroway today.” Alec brought the mugs over to a table tugged into a corner of the room. “She wants to do a dyslexia test on Rafa. Apparently he still isn’t improving.” Alec breathed deeply, nodding slowly. He knew letters had never made much sense to his son, and that his reading skills lacked behind. It wasn't for lack of trying either. Countless of hours had been spent at the kitchen table going over simple words, sounding out letters and constructing sentences. Hours filled with frustration, determination and even tears. “Well we kind of knew, didn’t we?” he said as Lydia joined him with her ceramic teapot. “Yeah. We did.” she sighed, sinking into a chair opposite him. “I just wish this wasn't a hurdle he’d have to struggle with.” she poured tea into their mugs, pushing one over towards Alec with a sigh. “I know,” Alec reached over to fold a warm hand around Lydia’s small one. “But it’s better that he gets help dealing with it than letting him struggle on his own, isn’t it?” Lydia smiled, tiredly, nodding her head. “Yeah. I just wish he wouldn’t have to struggle at all. He’s my baby boy, you know,” she shrugged with that small smile she’d reserved for her child playing on her face. Alec nodded, squeezing her hand before letting go and folding it around his mug instead. “Anyway, they’ll do the test this week, and we’ll know for sure.” Lydia said on an exhale, following it up with a sip of her tea. Alec, too, sipped his tea, letting the hot liquid seep into his bones, filling him with the peaceful sort of tiredness that came after a long day. “So,” Lydia broke the quiet silence a moment later. “Apparently I have a party to plan.” Alec groaned, leaning in over the table to hide his face behind his hand. “I’m turning 30. You’d think that makes me old enough to decide what I want to do for my own birthday!” “No, apparently that’s a job for your wife. So long as she decides what your mother wants to have happen, and invite the people your mother wants invited irregardless of whether we actually know them or not!” Lydia’s voice was strained as she spoke with a shake of the head. Alec could only smile in sympathy. “You know, it’s times like this that I almost envy Max for getting out and away from this mess.” he said, then frowned at the table at his own words. “God, he’d run away all over again if he saw me like this.” this time it was Lydia who reached over to fold a hand around Alec’s. “You brother’s always been smart, if a bit hotheaded. I’d like to think that if he actually stayed to listen he’d see that it’s possible to live your own life and have a good relationship with your siblings.” Alec raised his eyes to meet Lydia’s smile, shrugging one shoulder. “Yeah, maybe. We’d get to find out if he’d just came back. God, I miss him, Lyds.” Lydia’s smile turned sad as she squeezed his hand tightly. “I know. Hopefully, he knows that, too.” Alec heaved out a sigh, letting Lydia’s attempt at reassurance wash over him. It had been more than seven years since his brother decided to take of on the night of Alec’s wedding, and no-one had heard from him since. It still made Alec’s heart ache and stomach churn, knowing how large a part he and his actions had played in that decision. “So, about this party,” Alec visibly shook of the gloomy feelings threatening at the edges of his mind, “What’s the strategy?” ()“Mommy!” Rafael stormed through the door and straight for the kitchen with a war-cry. “Mommy, please don’t be sad for ever and ever!” Alec followed, ready to explain the sudden outburst. He had picked up his son, as he did every Thursday, only to find a Rafael filled with questions. Questions about the marks grazing his parents wrists, and why they weren't alike. About why his mother’s was filled when his father’s wasn’t. Alec found his wife and son in the kitchen as expected. Rafael had his arms around his mothers knees, face pressed into her thigh. Lydia was facing the doorway, both hands raised perplexedly in the air as she looked down at her son. “They talked about soulmates at assembly today.” Alec said in explanation, leaning against the doorway. “He put two and two together all on his own.” “Mrs. Garroway said not having your soulmate anymore makes you sad. I don’t want you to be sad, mommy!” Rafael said, looking up at Lydia with large wet eyes. A soft smile spread over Lydia’s face as she ran a hand through Rafael’s curls, then bending down to be able to look him straight in the eyes. “I was sad for a while,” Lydia said, slowly, one hand resting on Rafael’s tiny shoulder. “But now I’m not. Now I have you and I have daddy. You take the sadness away.” Lydia had met John in highschool, and for a few months, she had been one giant ray of sunshine. Then a stupid car crash had taken all that away from her in an instant, leaving her with a whole in her heart that Alec knew no-one could ever fill. He had seen it. Seen the way the deep, in-explicable grief had clung to her skin, making her grey and dull to the bare eye. That hadn’t changed until the moment she’d held her son in her arms for the first time. That was when the spark had returned to her eyes. “You promise?” Rafael’s voice was small, prompting Alec to make his way over to the pair. “I promise,” Lydia made sure to hold her son’s eyes as she said those words, running her hand through his curls. Rafael’s lower lip was still wobbling, though, and he fell against his mother’s shoulder, his small arms coming up to fold over her shoulders. Lydia’s eyes met Alec’s over Rafael’s head as she pulled him into her arms. There was a helplessness in her eyes that prompted Alec to reach over and wrap the two of them tight in his own arms. “We’re a family. Making each other happy is what we do.” Alec said, giving his little family a tight squeeze. “And today we do so by getting ice-cream!” Lydia and Alec shared a small smile as Rafael cheered, and shuffled out of their hold to rush to the fridge. With a shake of the head, Alec got to his feet, helping his exited son getting the cartoons out of the fridge. () “Dinner in half an hour!” Magnus called after Max as the smalle boy wrestled out of his coat and ran straight for his bedroom. with the patient sigh of a parent, Magnus bent down to pick up the gear his son had left all over the floor. Magnus smiled to himself as he made his way through their small flat to put his own things in his bedroom/study. There was a time when this place had been too filled with sadness for Magnus to stay. - Back when Camille had left and Magnus had had to figure out how to be a single working dad. But Magnus had worked hard to put the happiness back into his home, and now all he saw were the kids drawings on the hallway halls, the portraits Ragnor had gotten him for his 30th in the livingroom, and the litter of little clay figurines and paper cuttings spread all over. He had removed all reminders of the person he’d thought he’d be spending life with, and replaced them with new ones of the person he knew he’d get to keep. A few minutes later the pasta was boiling happily in its pot and Magnus was swaying his hips to the cheeky beats of ‘Don’t stop the music’ as he chopped tomatoes for the sauce. The cheerful song suddenly cut of in favor of blasting Magnus’ ringtone through the small kitchen. “You ruined my jam!” Magnus accused as the face of his adopted brother toned into view on Facetime. “Well, mission accomplished then,” Ragnor narrowed his eyes at the camera. “Can’t have you scaring my nephew with your taste in music,” Magnus poked his tongue out at the other man, waving his knife in the air as he positioned the phone near the chopping board. “His current favourite is ‘In the Summer’ from frozen - The one with the snowman looking forward to the summer. I think you’ll find I’m the one getting scars here.” Ragnor only laughed at his disgruntled face. “Anyway, how’s married life?” Ragnor and his soulmate, Will, had gotten married a month earlier after having been together for almost seven years. “It’s good,” Ragnor nodded with a soft smile. “not much different from before, but. Before was pretty good, too, so. How are things your end?” “Yeah, good. The summer play is coming up, so work is, you know, crazy. But so much fun. I have this little guy, sweet as all the world. He plays one of the knights, and the other day he gave the entire group a lecture on why the princess’ self-agency was important. - Couldn’t pronounce the word Self-agency, but other than that it was a moving speech.” “Good.” Ragnor narrowed his eyes, tilting his head to the side. “That’s good. That you have something to put a smile on your face.” Shaking his head, Magnus let out a huff of breath. “My son does that every day,” he said. It got tiring always having others think they had to look out of for you just because your girlfriend and soulmate left you alone with your newborn child. “Speaking of, I’m sure he wants to tell his uncle everything about his new Ninja Turtles back pack.” Ragnor smirked and nodded. “Max!” Magnus called loudly over his shoulder. “Your uncle Ragnor is on the phone!” at once little tap tap tap’s of little feet against hardwood floors sounded from down the short hallway, signaling Max’ eagerness to talk to his uncle. Magnus watched with fond amusement as his son and brother prattled on on about the backpack as if it was the most interesting thing ever. Life may not be exactly what he’d thought it would be, but it was pretty dang good as it was. ()“Our son’s a rockstar!” Alec lent in to whisper into Lydias ear. He smirked at the way his wife tried to suppress a smile, though she did give a sharp nod of agreement. They were standing in a narrow hallway lined with metal lockers that made all sound bounce around the parents gathered there in a cacophony of sound. The summer school play had just ended, and all the parents had gathered to await their children’s arrival from the backstage area. Rafael had shone in his role as Sarcastic Knight, making the whole hall break into laughter with his unscripted commentary. The pride that swelled around Alec’s heart was one he hadn’t known even existed until he had met his son for the first time. With a swoosh through the hallway the cacophony increased in volume as children flooded out through a doorway. Their lighter voices, filled with excitement, hovered over the lower hum of proud praises. A small body collided with Alec’s legs as Rafael hurdled himself towards his parents. There was a huge grin on his face as he looked up at his parents, and his blue eyes shone brightly. “Hey there, Buddy,” Alec smiled back, ruffling Rafael’s dark curls. “You were great out there.” “I was?” He turned to look at his mother for confirmation. Lydia smiled a rare broad smile, kneeling down to get level with him. “You were amazing, sweetheart,” she beamed at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Excuse me?” A voice pulled Alec’s attention away from his family. A man had made his way over to them. He was tall and asian, and his smile did something rare and not entirely pleasant to Alec’s heart. “You’re Mr. and Mrs. Lightwood I take it?” A small child, younger than Rafael’s school-year, waved enthusiastically at Alec, one slim arm wrapped around the leg of the man. Despite the blazing blue-grey eyes that seemed too large for his little face, it was clear that he and the man were related. They had the same crooked smile. Alec smiled and waved back, as Rafael let go of Alec's legs with a joyful exclamation of ‘Mr. Bane!’ “We are indeed,” Lydia stood back up and offered her hand to the teacher Rafael had told many a tale of since starting rehearsals for the play. “Lydia,” Mr. Bane nodded with a polite smile, shaking her hand. “Magnus,” he said, then turned his attention to Alec, who took a second too long to smile back at him. “Alexander!” he hastily reached out to shake the teacher’s hand, only to choke on the last syllable of his own name at the wildfire like sensation that went up his arm at the contact with the other’s skin. It was as if the whole world froze for a micro second stretched into eternity. Lydia had explained the sensation many times. How everything just kind of went silent as if someone had pressed mute on the world as she and John had stood frozen in place for however long it had taken to register that everything had changed. This man, this Magnus Bane, was Alec’s soulmate. At this realisation, the world started slowly spinning again, though Alec felt like he would be a couple seconds behind the rest of population earth from then on. Magnus had let go of his hand, and turned towards Lydia again. Alec felt himself frowning as he listened to his soulmate explain that he’s the special aids teacher at the school, and that he wanted to introduce himself before starting classes with Rafael the following week. It was entirely too mundane a conversation for Alec’s mind to make any sense of it, and he noted along on autopilot. Was Magnus this good of an actor? Or did the world change for Alec alone? It would be just his luck if that was the case. Spending years fretting this exact moment only for it to be a non-event in the end. He had a good life. He was happy. So why did a rock drop to the pit of his stomach when it didn’t have to change after all?()Magnus let out a large swoop of air as he watched a rapidly chatting Rafael drag his father out of the room. Never in his years as a teacher had another parent made an impression like the one Alexander Lightwood had left on Magnus’ vulnerable heart. It had been about a week since the school play, were Magnus had first met Alexander Lightwood, and since then, he’d barely been able to get the man out of his thoughts. It was becoming a distracting problem. He was probably imagining things, though, when he thought he’d seen a lingering look on Alexander’s face as he herded his son out of the room. Absentmindedly, Magnus rubbed at the old mark on his wrist. It had been itching lately, and he reminded himself he had to buy a new bottle of lotion on his way to get Max. Magnus coerced his thoughts to his son and what they were going to make for dinner that night. They were getting visitors. Raphael, Magnus ex-roommate from college, and his husband were bringing over their infant baby-daughter, and Magnus was beyond exited to get to see little baby Maria. More than that, he was exited about seeing Raphael with his new daughter. Back when Camille had left, it was the Santiago-Lewis household that had provided the space of sanity that an infant Max had needed. Raphael had surprised everyone with his cold-headedness as he took over care of the baby while Magnus wallowed in self pity. Maybe that was why the otherwise word latino had taken the role as favourite uncle of young Max. Now, Raphael had a child of his own, and Magnus could not be happier for him. Magnus swung his satchel over his shoulder and marched determined out of the office. Tonight he would waste no more time day dreaming about a certain parent of his confidentially named favorite student. ()“She’s so beautiful,” Magnus sighed, looking down at the tiny baby in his arms. Maria was still so very new to the world, but her eyes were already dark and attentive as they sought out Magnus’ face. Her hair was dark and curly, and there was quite a lot of it already. “Isn’t she beautiful, Darling?” he looked up at Max, who was stood in front of the chair Magnus was sitting on. His son’s eyes were huge as he watched the baby in his father’s arms, and he nodded almost solemnly. He reached over to stroke a small finger tip down her cheek with a shy and fascinated smile, making Maria yawn and blink her eyes. “Every time I see her she just gets more beautiful.” Magnus looked up briefly to find Raphael, his ex-college roommate, shake his head at him. There was a fond smile on his lips, though, and a happy gleam in his otherwise tired eyes. “She is very beautiful,” Raphael said, getting up from his seat next to his husband, “And she’s going to be very hungry very soon, so I better get her bottle ready. Want to help me, buddy?” He reached a hand out for Max to take. The little boy did so, happily, skipping alongside Raphael towards the kitchen. Magnus watched them go, then looked back at Maria, who was now making spit-bobbles. “So, Sherbert,” Magnus looked up to find Raphael’s soulmate watching the two of them. “How’s being a daddy?” Simon smiled that broad smile of his, pushing his glasses into place. “Being a daddy is great.” he said, “But it helped, knowing Raphael is great with babies. I would probably be a nervous reck if I didn't have him by my side.” “Yeah, he really proved his parental skills back when i couldn’t handle being a single parent,” Magnus smiled a sad sort of smile down at Maria, whose face scrunched up in displeasure. “No-one blames you for that, you know that rigt?” Simon moved a long the couch to get closer to Magnus. He shrugged half-heartedly, rocking Maria back and forth to try and settle her. “Yeah,” he said as casually as he dared, “Though if you hadn’t given me that speech, then you probably would. In due time.” “I didn’t give you a speech,” Simon frowned in confusion, reaching over to place a hand on Maria’s head. She settled at the touch. “I just talked to you like a normal person.” “Well that talk gave me the push I needed to get my act together, so. Thank you. In case i never told you that.” Back when Magnus had temporarily stayed with Raphael and Simon, he had basically been moping around while Raphael took care of Max. One night, Simon had come into his room, sat down beside him, and told him exactly why Magnus needed to get of his backside and go take over caring for a sad and grieving Max. Simon hadn’t been mean about it. Instead they’d spent good while talking about fears and past hurts. The next morning, Magnus had gotten up when he heard Max, and whispered into the sweet-smelling baby hair, that he loved him, and would never leave. “You have. And you’re welcome,” Simon said with a grin on his face. The conversation drifted to Simon’s upcoming tour. In the last years of college, Simon had joined a band, and had spent the past few years, building up a reputation by playing all the clubs and bars the band could find. Simon was in the middle of a boisterous retelling of a conversation the band had had with one of the venues for the tour when Max and Raphael returned, bottle in hand. As if she could smell the food, Maria suddenly started fussing, and Simon was quick to transfer the infant to his own arms, accepting the bottle his husband passed him. “So, you haven’t told us about the school play yet,” Raphael prompted sitting down next to Simon. “Oh, trust me I have a whole speech prepared for after dinner, with slides and everything,” Magnus winked holding on to Max as the boy climbed into his lap. “But I can give you a preview if you want. There’s this kid, Rafael who spend the whole time on stage doing running commentary. I’d be pissed at him for ruining my script if he wasn’t a comedian in the making.” “He was funny,” Max agreed, nodding along and then taking over telling the story of Magnus’ student who’s father ended up taking the staring role of the night. Running his fingers through his son’s hair, Magnus found himself smilling as he listened to his son’s lilting voice. () “Alec, Sweetie,” Alec looked up sharply, to find Lydia standing by the door to their room. He had once again been lost in thoughts about Magnus Bane, the soulmate he’d long feared to find. Making the decision to keep the bond a secret had been an easy one. He could not risk his son’s happiness. Family was the most important thing. The fact that it was an unrequited bond only made it all the easier to convince himself that his decision was right.Lydia looked amazing, dressed in a long forest green dress, the diamond adorned necklace Alec had given her for their wedding sparkling around her long exposed neck. A pang of guilt hit him. He had a beautiful wife, and here he was, daydreaming up ways to satisfy the Craving burning sharply through his veins. It had been a little over 3 weeks since he met Magnus, and still the desire to touch and hold had a firm grip of his heart. Craving was different for everyone, that much was common knowledge. For some it was so intense that the newly bonded couple would disappear form the world for a while, unable to keep their hands to themselves. For others it was lighter, like a soft breeze as a coworker had once described it. As Alec smiled at his radiant wife, he wished Craving could have been like that for him. - Just a soft kiss of the summerwind. Instead he was hit with a hurricane of emotions constantly swirling around within him with no signs of letting up. “You about ready to go?” Lydia smiled, moving through the room as she spoke. “Yup,” Alec smiled up at her as she stopped in front of him, reaching out to shuffle a few pieces of hair back into place. “Let’s do this then,” She said as he got to his feet. He pressed a kiss to her forehead as she intertwined their fingers. “Let’s do this.” ()“Hey, man. You made it!” Jace had never smiled as broadly as he did that night, pulling Alec in for a tight bro-hug. The party was already buzzing in the grand hall by the time Lydia and Alec made it there. - Rafael had not been happy about having to stay with the nanny when his parents got to celebrate Uncle Jace finding his soulmate. It had taken some time to convince him that tonight was a boring event, and that the real fun would be had the next day when Jace and his Clary were coming over for lunch. “And you dressed up and everything.” “She made me,” Jace’s smile was infectious, but even so, Alec rolled his eyes and nodded his head to his wife who was next in line for a tight Jace hug. “Now, where’s this Redheaded Goddess we’re here to meet?” Alec smirked, referring to the phonecall he had gotten from his brother a few days ago. “She’s showing her mother something. She’ll be back in a sec.” Jace looked about the ballroom, trying to spot his soulmate. “Anyway. While I have you, there’s something I have to tell you and Izz!” He turned on his heal, wading through the crowd that had gathered in the hall. Jace had always had knack for taking advantage of their parents wealth and willingness to flaunt it to the right people. The party that night had Maryse Lightwood written all over it with its over the top gold and white decorations and expensive hour d’oeuvres passed along on silver plates by waiters in penguin-suits. Alec grabbed a couple, along with a flute of champagne as he and Lydia followed Jace through the crowd. “Yo! Izzy!” Jace called, reaching their sister. Izzy was, unsurprisingly, dressed to the nines in a smooth black dress with a deep cleavage. Diamonds sparkled from the heavy earrings and the necklace that hung low around her neck. “Hey, big brother!” She exclaimed jumping at Alec, and pulling him in for a tight hug as well. “Okay, so i have something to tell you guys! Huddle up,” Jace motioned for the three of them to huddle closer, a happy sparkle in his eyes. “So, I was talking to Clary yesterday about stuff, you know, and somehow Max came up. And I showed her a picture of him.” Alec’s heart started speeding up at the name, frowning as he watched the excitement in Jace’s face. “And she recognised him! Apparently she used to room with Simon Lewis, Max friend you know?” Alec and Izzy both nodded, and Alec could see in Izzy’s face that she was as much in shock as he was. Alec remembered Simon with his large glasses and friendly smile. He’d picked the two boys up from school enough times to still recall their nerdy banter with fondness. The last time anyone from the Lightwood family had seen Simon Lewis was the day after Max had disappeared. Simon had come by to tell the Lightwood that he, as the only one, had gotten a goodbye. “So it turns out Max used to send Lewis postcards every so often, with like pictures and stuff of himself! She thinks he might still do it. Maybe we can get, like, clues or something! Or at least see how he’s doing!” Lydia was squeezing Alec’s hand tightly, and he could feel her eyes on his face. He didn’t dare look back though, to busy fighting the way his heart was trying to escape trough his chest. So many years had passed with no word of Max. For so long the siblings had avoided talking about him, too scared of upsetting the carefully constructed happy facade they'd constructed. “Are you for real? Why didn’t you say anything straight away? Someone might have a picture of my brother!” Izzy was shaking Jace shoulder rather harshly. “Let’s go talk to Simon! Is he here tonight?” “No, he’s on tour or something. But Clary is trying to get the postcards from his soulmate, so. Hopefully we’ll get them soon.” Jace pried of Izzy’s fingers, holding her hands tightly instead. “I promise, we’re working as fast as we can.” “That’s wonderful news, Jace,” Lydia said, reaching her free hand over to fold around Alec’s arm. “Isn’t it sweetie.” Alec nodded in agreement, trying to get his body to function again after the shock to his system. “Yeah,” the word managed to pass the hurdleds of his dry throat, “Yeah, it’s amazing news.” he smiled, grabbing Jace’s shoulder and squeezing it tight. For a moment the four of them just stood in their huddle, looking from one hopeful face to another. Then Lydia decided to break the pattern. “Amazing as this is, I came here tonight to dance with my husband,” Alec’s confused ‘what?’ went ignored, “And to meet your lovely Clary. So what do you say to going out there and honoring Max by making absolute fools of ourselves, and then we can obsess and strategize over lunch tomorrow?” ()The clangs of plates hitting the metal racks of the dishwasher was almost enough to drown out the chatter and laughter drifting into the kitchen from the dinning room. Almost mindlessly, Alec stacked the used plates one by one, while his thoughts escaped him once again. The bonding party the night before, with its loud music and constant flow of champagne, had almost entirely blocked out the longing coursing through his bloodstream. So had the lunch, in its own way, filled, as it had been by memories of old times.Now, though, standing in an empty kitchen with a sink full of dirty glasses, the Craving was back full force. Alec was just the right side of hungover to not be bothered with fighting his wandering mind. He was so stuck on a memory of Magnus and Rafael reading the week before that he didn't notice the nick of his finger at first. When the pain registered, slowly, like a ship appearing through the fog, blood had already dripped from his thumb down his wrist. Dumbfoundedly, he found himself staring at it. It didn't look good. A long jagged line of oozing red running from the tip of his thumb to just below the first joint. He should probably do something. It escaped him, though, what it was that he was supposed to do in a situation like this. “Alec, how’s…” Lydia’s voice cut of mid-sentence, and Alec slowly turned towards her. “Alec!” She gasped grabbing a tea towel and strode over to him in two long strides. “Where is your head these days, honestly.” she muttered as she wrapped his finger tightly. “One of the glasses must have smashed,” Alec said as if in reply. Lydia shook her head slowly. “Here, keep it up and put pressure on it.” She instructed, moving his hand into position. Then she nimbly undid the clasps on the cuff Alec always wore to cover up his mark. The action sparked Alec’s brain into action and he tried wrestling his wrist out of her grib. He got a stern look for his actions. It took her a breath to realize that the mark had changed, and when she did, her gasp was followed by a sharp slap to his shoulder. “What?!” he faked ignorance, which, judged by the murderous look on his wife’s face, was not a wise choice. “Your mark’s filled out!” she hissed. “Oh, yeah. It did that.” Alec knew how dumb he sounded, but he didn’t know what else to say. “How long?” Lydia looked up into his eyes, and there was a fire burning there that spelled out danger. “About 3 and a half weeks.” Alec whispered, “But it doesn’t matter. It was one-sided.” He quietly tacked on the end of his sentence. “You should have told me.” Lydia methodically went back to checking his thumb. “Do you know who it is?” his thumb was still bleeding quite badly, and the sight of it made his stomach turn. “It’s, uhm, its Magnus. Mr. Bane.” her eyes snapped back to his face. “I think you might need stitches.” She said. “Keep pressure on. I’ll go get Izzy.” She marched away only too stop in the doorway and look back at him. “We’re not done talking about this!” She pinned him with a stare, and then disappeared towards the sound of continous chatter. ()“So. You bonded?” Izzy glanced over at Alec, who was staring intently out of the windshield. Izzy had confirmed that Alec needed stitches to his finger, and had driven him to the emergency room. Even with her contacts it had takken a coupe of hours. Alec had had plenty of time to stress over the fight that was waiting for him at home. “Yeah. I guess.” he sighed, keeping his eyes on the city passing by the car windows. “So what are you going to do?” She send him another glance, her eyes glinting in the streetlight zipping past. “Nothing,” Alec shrugged, keeping his eyes on the houses getting drenched in quiet rain. “Nothing?!” Izzy was frowning. Alec didn’t have to see her face to know that. “Seriously?” “Yeah.” Taking his eyes of the world outside, Alec turned to lean his head back against the headrest of the seat. “But it’s your soulmate!” There was a note of incredulity in Izzy’s voice. An incredulity Alec matched in the look he send towards Izzy’s uncovered wrist. When she had met her soulmate, a caterer serving at Alec’s wedding, Izzy had stealthily ignored him. Alec had never heard her mention the bond again. “Yeah, I ignored my soulmate,” Izzy said in response to his look, “And I’ve regretted it ever since.” Alec simply raised his eyebrow. “I mean it, Alec. It’s the biggest mistake I’ve made. Max was right. I shouldn’t have let my fear of him holding me back from my dreams win. Now, there’s this whole following me around, and I have no idea what to do to fill it.” “It’s one-sided, Izz. And anyway, I’ve got Rafael. I’ve got Lydia. I’m not. I’m not jeopardizing that. I have a son. That’s the most important thing.” Alec hardly dared glancing at Izzy as he told her the same half-truths that kept him going at the moment. Judging by huff that came from the other side of the car, Izzy saw straight through him. “Right. And that’s why you didn’t tell Lydia. That’s why you didn't let her get a say in how this plays out?” Alec rolled his eyes. “I didn’t tell Lydia because it’s sorted. There’s nothing to get a say in.” Izzy was shaking her head, as she pulled op at his building. Before he could get out of the car, she reached over to grab his arm. “Raf is the most important thing. I know that. But do you really think he’s better of with a dad and a mum who’re both longing for their lost soulmates?” Her eyes were honest as she looked straight at him. “I think he’s better of with both his parent together is what I think.” Alec forced out, tearing his arm out of her grab, and throwing himself out of the car. () “I swear if I didn’t know better I’d say this was Craving,” Magnus complained, trowing himself on the couch as dramatically as he could. He didn’t get any sympathy though, only an annoyed huff and a chuckle. He lifted his head to send Raphael a scowl, which went wholly ignored as Raphael was busy singing Maria to sleep. Then he flopped over to send a hurt look at the laptop on the coffee table. “Your husband is mean!” he told the grainy picture of Simon, who’s only response was a roll of the eyes. “No-one understand my pain.” Magnus whined, letting his head fall back onto the cushion of the Lewis-Santiago couch. “You’re crushing on a parent from school.” Raphael’s dry voice wasn’t all that welcome. “I don’t think you really have the moral highground here.” “But he’s perfect! Even you would say so if you saw him. Tall as a tree but gentle as a flower. All big brown eyes that could lure even the most innocent teacher astray and a smile that does unspeakable things to your insides.” Magnus waved his hands about in the air above him as he spoke. The laughter that followed his poetic tirade made him frown in hurt at the computer screen. “Raphael, your husband is as mean as you are. I see why you make such a good couple.” Magnus called after his friend who’d gone to put down his daughter. “We do make an amazing couple,” Simon mussed through the speakers of the laptop. “Now, if I promise not to laugh, do you want to tell me about this tree slash flower of yours? Is there no hope for you?” “Sadly, no.” Magnus sighed, shuffling around to get into a seated position, legs crossed as he faced the laptop. “He’s married. To a literal goddess.” Magnus scratched at his mark again, frowning down at the red and irritated skin. “That sucks.” Finally, some sympathy snuck its way into the conversation. “It really does,” Magnus pouted. “Don’t indulge him, Bebé.” Raphael dumped onto the couch next to Magnus, pushing at him to get into the frame of the web-cam. “I’m not,” Simon held his hands up in defence. “It really must suck to have those sorts of feelings for someone you can’t have.” Magnus nodded, exaggerating his pout for effect. It didn’t have any, though, as Raphael only rolled his eyes. “It’s not actually Craving, you know. It can’t be. Magnus already bonded once.” Raphael pointedly looked down at the Mark Camille had filled years back, then frowned at the state of the skin surrounding the black markings of Angel wings folding out over a web of flowers. “What are you doing?” he asked, grabbing Magnus’ hand which had absentmindedly been scratching at the edge of the mark. “I don’t know?” Magnus said, confused at Raphael’s reaction. “It itches?” “How long has it been doing that?” Raphael brushed Magnus fingers away and inspected the mark closer. “I don’t know, a couple of weeks? Or something?” Magnus shrugged. “So since you met this Alec person?” Raphael questioned with more seriousness than he’d ever displayed before when it came to Magnus’ various little crushes. Magnus nodded and combined it with a shrug to show his uncertainty. “What is it, honey?” Simon’s voice shook Raphael out of whatever thought he was trapped in. “You said he’s married?” Magnus nodded as Simon supplied with ‘to a literal goddess’. “But are they soulmates? Do you know?” there was an intensity to Raphael’s gaze that made Magnus feel unsettled and confused. He helplessly pulled up his shoulders in a shrug. “I mean, I think Lydia’s mark’s filled, but i haven’t seen Alexander’s. He keeps it covered.” he stuttered out. “Wait wait wait wait!” Simon babbled suddenly from the computer, making Raphael turn his intense gaze to his husband instead. “Did you just say Lydia and Alexander? As in Alexander Lightwood? That’s the guy you’re crushing on?” There was an excitement in Simon’s voice that Magnus had a hard time translating. In fact this entire conversation had taken a turn he hadn’t been prepared for, and he felt like both his stomach and brain were still headed in another direction from the rest of him. “Yeah? That’s his name.” Magnus supplied uncertainly. “I know him!” Simon smiled broadly, almost manically. It was kind of scary. “He’s Max’s brother.” he said as if that would make perfect sense. The way Raphael nodded made it seem like it actually did. “Alec got married ages ago. To hide the fact that he likes making out with guys. He and Lydia are not soulmates.” Magnus was so busy freaking out over that piece of information that he almost missed Raphael’s muttered sentence. “Maybe it is craving after all.” he mussed, poking at Magnus wrist. “What?” Simon exclaimed, mirroring Magnus’ utter shock. He’d come here for sympathy. Not a rollercoaster of emotions he didn't know what to do with. “You know how scientist think soulmates has to do with shared genetic markings, and that finding your soulmate actually means finding one out of maybe thousands of potentials?” Magnus nodded even though he had no idea what Raphael was on about. Being a grumpy Latino made it easy to forget that Raphael was actually a hopeless romantic who'd spent college studying soulmates. “Well, they think that the mark being complete stops your genes from registering other potentials. However. Magnus is a glitch. So his mark is filled, but it wasn't reciprocated. Which. There are a few cases like his where single bonds met another potential later on and went through all the symptoms again, though this time it was reciprocated. Maybe that’s what’s happening here. Maybe this Alec person bonded with Magnus the first time they touched, and Magnus did, too, only he couldn't feel it as well because of his mark already being filled. Maybe you’ve got another shot at a soulmate.” A sincere smile had taken over Raphael’s face as he spoke. Magnus found himself unable to do anything but stare at him, stunned. “Could you repeat that?” he whispered after a short while. “Not the full thing. Just the conclusion.” he hastened to add. “I think this Alexander Lightwood is your Soulmate.” Raphael said the words slowly and honestly, looking Magnus straight in the eyes. “I think you’ve got a second chance, Mags.” “Holly shit!” Simon exclaimed from the computer, “Holly shit, are you serious?” Raphael nodded slowly, not taking his eyes of Magnus face. Magnus could feel his hands shaking in Raphael’s grib. He looked down at the mark he’d spent years hatting. Then he looked back up at Raphael’s glowing face. “Well, what do I do now?” he asked in honest wonder. Raphael’s smile only widened. “That,” he said slowly, “Is what we’re going to figure out now.”()The flat was eerily quiet when Alec entered. Normally, putting Jace and Rafael in the same room led to tornado-like conditions. That was what he’d left. Now, though, the place was entirely still. Lydia was sitting at the table in the kitchen, hands folded around a mug, sheets of paper spread out in front of her. She looked about ten years older than when he’d left. “Hi,” he walked over to sit down in the seat opposite her. “So… Raf’s not here?” Alec said slowly, picking at the bandage around his finger. “I sent him with Jace and Clary to the zoo. Izzy’s going to meet them there, and take Rafael with her home for the night. I figured we could use the time to talk this through.” Lydia was calm as she spoke, looking straight at him. “Lyds, it’s…” Alec sighed heavily and starred at the table in search of the words he needed to wade of a fight. His eyes snapped up to Lydia’s face, though, when he realized what was written on the sheets of paper. “I want a divorce.” She said it slow and measured, utter conviction emanating from her steel-grey eyes, the tightness of her fists around the mug and the setting of her shoulders. She wasn’t oppening up for a debate. “Lyds, seriously,” Alec wasn’t going down without a fight, “Don’t be dramatic about this, please. We’re not getting a divorce.” Lydia sighed, her hands folding even tighter around the mug. “Alec, you promised me that once you found him, we would end this thing.” There was an edge to her voice and a shimmer in the corner of her eyes, “That was before Rafael, Lyds. I’m not doing this. I'm not splitting up my son’s family, his home.” Alec swallowed down the lump in his throat as Lydia reached across the table to fold a hand around one of his. “I know family’s sacred to you, Alec. But sacrificing your own happiness like this is not what our son needs. Raf deserves parents that are happy. Even if that means us no being together. If I didn’t do this, if I didn't push right now, I wouldn’t be doing right by my child.” Alec shook he head slowly, a tremor taking hold of his body. “Don’t say shit like that Lyds. That’s not fair.” Lydia didn’t reply. she only looked at him with tearstained eyes. “It’s not even a real bond. Why wont you hear that. He didn’t bond. Not with me. He’s probably at home right now with his own soulmate and his son. This stupid mark doesn’t change anything.” Alec felt his heart speed away in his chest, his lungs heaving for breath. “He’s not.” Lydia’s voice was quiet, barely heard over the noise of Alec’s thoughts. “He’s not with his soulmate. It was a glitch, and apparently she left.” Alec made a face at her which screamed disbelief and confusion. “He told me a couple of weeks ago when I asked about his son.” Alec bit his teeth together trying hard to not let her revelation get to him. “He’s a good man, Alec. And Rafael already really likes him. Can’t you at least try? Who knows, maybe it will even be really good?” “Yeah, or really, really bad.” Alec bit out. “I’m not. This still sounds like the worst idea ever.” He waved his hands at the papers on the table. “I’m not doing this shit.” He pushed away from the table and got to his feet. “I’m going to jus get away from this.” He strode out of the kitchen and then the flat, ignoring Lydia’s pleas for him to stay. When his feet hit the pavement his legs took of at a run, carrying him far away from the pressure of everything. ()“Hey little man.” Alec stayed in the doorway to Rafael’s room, watching his son. Rafael looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes from where he was spread out on the floor surrounded by half finished masterpieces. “How are you holding up?” Rafael’s bottom lip wobbled as he sat up and threw a crayon at his dad with a petulant look in his large eyes. That morning Lydia and Alec had greeted him in the door when Izzy had dropped him of. They’d both been tired after a long night of talks and heavy decisions. Alec had ended up running in a circle, ending back up at the flat with a clearer head. Lydia had moved to the living room, curled up in a chair with eyes sore from crying. “This isn’t about you finding your soulmate.” she’d said. “It’s about living this lie with you when I know there’s something better out there for you. It’s about looking at that mark and knowing that you could have what John and I should have had. It’s about me knowing that you’re hiding from everyone, including yourself, and using our son as an excuse.” They’d fought for hours. Full on shouting and slamming doors. They’d never done that before. Then a weird sense of detached calm had settle in the both of them, and they’d sat down in Alec’s windowsill with two legal pads and a laptop and they’d hashed everything out. They’d sat Rafael down in the kitchen with coffees, hot cocoa and that same laptop. They had explained to him, as calmly as they could what was going to happen. That Lydia was looking for a new place to live on her own. That for now Rafael would be living with Alec until Lydia got settled. That his parents still loved him more than anything, and would be there for him whenever and wherever he needed. They wouldn’t be ‘mom&dad’ any more. They'd just be mom and dad. At first Rafael hadn’t understood what they were saying. Then he’d gotten very still, lip caught between his teeth as he processed what he’d been told. Then he’d screamed at them at the top of his lungs. Had trashed his room and snapped half his precious crayons while Alec and Lydia had stood, helplessly, outside his door. “I’ve got those pictures we talked about,” Alec carefully let himself settle on the floor in doorway, legs folded and box of postcards placed carefully in his lap. Izzy had dropped them of half an hour ago. Lydia had cried herself to sleep in their bedroom, and Alec had been sitting guard outside Rafael’s door. Izzy had taken one look at him, pulled him into a crushing hug and told him to call her. She’d left quickly with a kiss to his cheek, ignoring the tears in his eyes just like he hoped she would. “The ones of your uncle Max.” Rafael had turned his attention back to the drawing he was working on. With a sigh, Alec carefully opened the box - A self-crafted wooden chest covered in pictures of superheroes. Max used to have one similar. He and Simon had made them in school for a projekt. Max’s now held Rafael’s collection of figurines, and was proudly displayed on his bookshelf above the little bed. Alec could feel Rafael’s eyes on him, as he pulled out the stack of thick carton. And there he was. His baby brother, all grown up, looking into the camera with a big grin. It was a selfie taken in someone’s livingroom - probably Max’s own. He looked the same as ever, despite being a proper adult now. His greenish eyes shone with mischief and the dimples he used to hate still made his face look soft and boyish. His hair was a carefully constructed mess, the tips of it dyed a dark blue. Thick dark lines made his eyes pop, and there was a silver stud pushed through his eyebrow. Thick yellow letters wound their way across the bottom of the card. ‘Like the new look?’ they said. The first tear was rolling down his cheek, and Alec brushed it of as he flipped onto the next postcard. Rafael shuffled himself closer as Alec smiled and cried, flipping through the stack of cards. Alec hardly noticed, and flinched when tiny fingers suddenly poked at his tearstained cheek. He looked up to catch the confused sadness in his son’s eyes. Forcing his smile to widen, Alec whipped his face dry. He moved the box from his lap, making a space for Rafael to crawl up in. When the boy did just that, yet another tear rolled down Alec’s cheek. He folded his arms tightly around his son, pressing a hard kiss against his little curly head. “Want to look at these with me?” he whispered, picking the cards up, and holding them at an angle so that Rafael could see. “That’s your Uncle Max apparently chasing innocent ducks in a park.” he whispered, pointing to the laughing figure of his brother. Rafael let out a little chuckle tracing a finger over the words spelling out ‘They stole my lunch!’ in white letters. It took ages, flipping through the pictures. Max seemed to have sent a postcard every other month for the past eight years. Rafael insisted on stopping at each of them, taking them in, studying them. Even the ones of random shoes (‘I so want those!’) and furniture (‘how am I supposed to fit all my things in this thing?’). They laughed together at Max pulling faces in a library (‘Whoever invented Business Planning needs to apologize!’) and beaming over a huge piece of cake, some of which was smeared on his cheek (‘No more Teen years!). The picture of Max smiling widely in a cap and gown, waving a diploma (‘I survived!!!!!’) brought the tears back to Alec’s eyes, as did the one of Max standing outside of a small shop with the words ‘adult worklife here I come!’ printed in large happy letters. During the second flip-through Lydia joined them on the floor with a tub of ice-cream and three spoons. On the third flip trough, Rafael fell asleep in Alec’s arm’s, one hand clutching his mother’s sleeve tightly. The fourth time Alec flipped through the peeks into his brother’s life, there was a knock on the door. Lydia went to get it when Alec made no signs of moving. She came back, and there was this look on her face, of awe and disbelief, that Alec wasn’t sure how to read. “It’s for you,” she whispered, bending down to pick up Rafael and carry him to his bed. Alec hadn’t notice the tiredness that had seeped into his limps while he’d been sitting on the floor for hours. He stretched his body lazily as he walked towards the front door. When he saw who was waiting at the door, nervously twining his fingers in a way that was far to familiar, Alec broke. Max must have developed ninja-like skills because he somehow managed to catch Alec as his legs gave out under him. “Hey, big brother.” he whispered, holding on tight to Alec’s shoulders, “You okay there?” Alec could only shake his head wordlessly as large fat tears rolled uncontrollably down his cheeks. He dragged Max into his arms, and when Max’s arms carefully folded around him, too, large painful sobs broke free of his chest. () One month later Magnus found himself bitting his lips as he drank in the sight of his soulmate. Alexander was standing in the kitchen, casually leaning against the counter, arms folded over his broad chest, while he watched his sister talk animatedly at him. It had been about a month since Alec had confirmed their bond in an otherwise empty classroom at Magnus’ school. A month that had been both filled with stress and extreme happiness. They’d decided, on that day in the classroom, that they would be taking things slow. - Alec was in the middle of a divorce, and had a son who depended on him more than ever. To top it of, Alec’s brother had just returned from hiding, and even though Magnus still didn’t know the full story, he knew enough to understand Alec’s need to be with his family. The whole taking it slow thing was hindered though, by the sudden all consuming need to be close. - It was as if the acceptance of their bond had flicked a switch, igniting a deeply rooted craving for the other. So they had spent uncountable hours texting and facetiming between dinner making and bedtimes. They’d had dates on the nights Lydia had Rafael, and occasional sleepovers, too. It had been hard and weird and wonderful. And now they were here, at a small party in Magnus’ tiny flat, surrounded by friends and family. Sharing the beginnings of their future with the people they most wanted to be a part of it. “Hey, Mags. I think someone’s ready for bed.” Magnus turned to find Raphael standing behind him, Max cradled in his arms. The boy’s arms were wrapped tight around his uncle’s neck, and his little head was hidden in Raphael’s shoulder. Magnus smiled and gently transferred his son to his own arms. (**)Alec was waiting for him when Magnus returned to the living room. Two arms quickly found their place on his hips, and Magnus happily accepted the kiss that was offered to him, giving back one of his own. “I have gossip,” Alec revealed, eyes wide and full of mischief. “Oh, yeah? How well you know me already,” Magnus teased, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of Alec’s neck. “Indeed,” Alec smiled. “So apparently your friend James is my sister’s long lost soulmate. They’ve talked, and Izzy is not without hope of a reconciliation.” There was a deeply rooted happiness in Alec’s voice, though Magnus could hardly appreciate it because it was drowned out by his own joy. “That. Is not the gossip I thought you had,” He offered, still slightly stunned at the thought of Jem getting to talk to the soulmate who rejected him so long ago. “No?” Alec rose an eyebrow at him, “What then?” “Well. Apparently this is the night of finding soulmates, old and new alike.” Magnus said slowly, teasingly, making Alec wait. Alec poked his tongue out, leaning in to steal a kiss. “Cat met her soulmate, and I bet you can’t guess who it is?” Alec’s eyebrows shot up and he quickly scanned the room around him. A wide smile spread over his face, suddenly, and Magnus turned to follow his gaze. Cat was sitting on the couch, which had been pushed against the wall. Next to her Rafael was hiding behind a notebook, clearly creating his own calm in the chaos that surrounded him. Cat wasn’t paying attention to Rafael though. Her eyes - her whole body - was focused towards Max Lightwood, who was speaking softly to his nephew. Alec turned back to catch Magnus eyes, shaking his head weakly. “Huh,” he hummed, pulling a widely grinning Magnus closer. “That’s a whole lot of people tying us together then. Seems us meeting really was inevitable.”
10085684	Chronicles of the Void	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by DarthImperius", "chapters": "3/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-05T00:00:00", "words": "6,561", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hogwarts Fifth Year, Alternate Timelines, Dimension Travel, Original Character(s), No Romance, Post-Goblet of Fire", "Relationship": null, "Character": "Harry Potter", "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 }	"Normal Speech" "Thoughts" Chapter 1 – The Call of the Void Grimmauld Place, London, England (U.K.) "He got off, he got off, he got off,…"The chant from Ginny, Fred and George was rather cheering for Harry, considering he had just escaped expulsion from Hogwarts. To Molly Weasley, however, it was mere fuel to a new wave of shouting by the portrait of Walburga Black, which had to be avoided at all costs. Not that she wasn’t happy for Harry, but there were better and less noisy ways to show it.“Good grief that Dumbledore was there,” spoke Molly as she was told what had transpired in the Ministry. “Now, Harry, I’m sure you must be hungry. Come and have lunch. You hardly ate anything early this morning.”The empty feeling which came from his stomach and the temptation of Mrs. Weasley food made it impossible for Harry to refuse. His mood was improving somewhat, contrasting with what it had been like when he had arrived at the house. Ron and Hermione were sitting next to him, chatting about the trial and Dumbledore. They spoke as Harry ate, but his attention was diverted from the food and his friends towards the scar.“What is it Harry?” asked Hermione, as Harry began to rub his scar.“The scar… the usual,” he grumbled. “It’s tradition by now.”And with Voldemort active, he was sure there would be far more spikes of pain than before. Nothing he could do about that.“You alright mate?” asked Ron. “You seem a bit pale.”Hermione nodded. “He’s right Harry. You look sick.”He looked at the two confused.“What are you talking about? I feel normal.”As fate would decree it, as soon as those words were said, a wave of nausea took hold of Harry, prompting him to urgently get up before falling on the floor, vomiting the contents of his stomach into the ground. In these instants, his mind completely ignored everyone around him, wanting only for this agony to stop.Before he knew it, he was being raised to his feet and basically dragged to a nearby armchair, a spell having been cast at him to clean his clothes from the vomit. He felt horribly weak, his limbs no longer obeying him fully. A sensation of warmth took hold of his body, as if he was in the process of falling asleep. Despite hearing the echoes of people calling his name and attempting to have his attention, Harry did the only thing his body allowed him to.He closed his eyes. He felt weak, as if his body had lost all will to move. Harry was aware that he was no longer sitting, but sprawled on the cold stone floor.Wait… stone? He could be mistaken, but the floor of the kitchen was made of wood. He felt a huge headache, joined with pain across his entire body, as if he had been beaten up by someone. Moment by moment, Harry began to feel himself more aware of things, but was not enough recovered to either open his eyes or to get up. But then he felt a hand on his back, shaking him.“Hey… hey kid!”The voice was both young and unfamiliar, enough to speed up Harry’s recovery of consciousness.“You think he’s dead?” he heard someone else, a girl by the sounds of it, asking. “Or dying, at least?”“Not likely,” remarked another voice. “Unconscious at best. Had he been dead, he would be here no more.”“Right, I forgot that,” replied the girl.Using what little strength he had, Harry attempted to move his arm.“He’s moving!” spoke yet another voice.Harry groaned in pain, and he felt someone lifting him into a sitting position.“Hey, can you hear me kid?” asked the first voice.In a half-hearted attempt to open his eyes, Harry managed to pry open his left eyelid, closing it quickly from sensitivity to the light. His awareness was far more recovered, and he could hear what seemed to be birds, so that meant he was no longer in Sirius’s house. Where exactly was he? Had it been a portkey which had taken him to… wherever he was right now? Not feeling safe at all, and very vulnerable at the moment, Harry forced his eyes open, experiencing a slight case of major visual agony.“W-wha…?” he managed, his eyesight slowly adapting to the light. “Where am… where am I?”He could now see the four people who surrounded him. Two boys and two girls, somewhere around his age, although one of the girls seemed to be somewhat younger. None of them was familiar to him, and neither were his surroundings.“The Void,” replied the boy who had taken hold of him.“The what?” asked the wizard.The four exchanged looks of understanding.“He must be a neophyte,” commented the other boy.“Then why did he appear here?” said the youngest girl.“An anomaly, most likely,” said the first boy, before looking at Harry. “Let’s see if we can get you on your feet.”The other boy came over to them, and as the two grabbed Harry’s arms, they gently raised the young wizard to his feet. Harry’s first action was to find something to hold on to, said thing manifesting itself in the form of a nearby table.“Thanks,” he mumbled, still quite stunned by this whole situation. “Who are you? And what is the Void?”“I’m Alexios,” said the first boy, before pointing at the other three. “That guy is Eamon, the tall one is Aminah, and the small one of Clodovea.”“Shut it Alexios,” snarled Clodovea. “Compared to you I’m ancient!”While it seemed that height was a sore subject for the girl called Clodovea, Harry found it difficult to believe that she was older than Alexios. Still, better not make assumptions based on appearances alone.“Anyway, the Void…,” continued Alexios. “…well, the Void is erm… how should I explain this? It’s like a universe filled with smaller universes, outside the general multiverse.”“I’m sorry, what?” asked Harry, not following the thought pattern of Alexios. Universes and multiverses? What the hell, was going on here?“Yeah, I’m not good at explaining these things,” muttered the boy. “The guys at the Conference are better at these things. And what about you? What’s your name?”“Harry,” he replied, not wanting to draw his surname into the picture.“Well, Harry, I think its is best if we get you out of here,” affirmed Eamon, before extending his arm. “By the way, is this wand yours?”Harry took it. “Yeah, that’s my wa… wait, you’re wizards?”Aminah chuckled. “Unless any of these three has been hiding secrets, then no. But there are many of your kind in the Void. Once you’re all sorted out, you may even join the Guild of Magical Arts, If that’s your sort of thing.”Harry nodded, still a bit numb from the small explanation.“And what is this place? Where we are?” he asked. “These seem like ruins.”“Well, they are ruins,” confirmed Clodovea. “Ancestral ruins to be precise. We were exploring this place right before you appeared.”“Ancestral?” he asked rather curious.“Built by the first generation factions which ruled over the Great Void,” explained Alexios. “They’ve been gone for millennia now. We’re the seventh generation to inhabit the Void.”“Seventh? What happened to the others?”“War happened,” stated Eamon. “Minor issues which escalated into conflicts which depopulated the Void. At least that’s what the recovered records indicate. For all we know, someone might have sneezed at the wrong time. Or perhaps someone was betrayed and the other party was not very happy with it. Who knows?”“As members of the Guild of Explorers, it is our duty to discover and explore new lands, seeking information about past events and scouting territories which might be reused,” said Clodovea. “But you’ll learn all about that soon enough. Alexios, open the gate. Mine has no energy left.”“Right away!” said the boy as he took out a small flashlight-like device, pointing it at a nearby wall.As he pressed a button, a small orb was shot out from the device, and as it hit the hall, a bluish wormhole appeared, startling Harry.“Why did I leave my bed this morning?” he thought, before bitterly reminding himself of the reason. “Oh, right. The hearing.”“Come on Harry,” said Alexios as he approached the portal. “No need to be afraid.”The boy entered the portal, Harry observing as his figure vanished.“I suppose this must be like Floo,” thought Harry as he reluctantly approached the portal.As he began to touch the distortion, Harry realized his surroundings had shifted, the bluish light of the portal being replaced by a dark ambience. He was no longer in the ruins, standing instead in what seemed to be a square of some sort, filled with countless people, and curiously enough, there were no adults in sight. Many skyscrapers surrounded the square, and the sky was dark, filled with equally dark clouds. This whole place seemed to be somewhat futuristic, and as a strange sound came from behind him, Harry turned around to see that the portal had closed and the three others had joined him and Alexios.Yet behind them was an extremely high tower, surpassing the dark clouds and reaching into the high unknown. His attention was fully focused on that building, and it seemed his undivided attention had been noticed by Alexios.“That tower is the headquarters of the Presidium. The interfactional government of the Great Void.” explained the teenager. “And since this is your first time here…. welcome to the Great Conference.”“Thanks, I guess,” said Harry. “What now?”“Now you need to be registered, as all neophytes,” said Eamon. “After that, you will be given a mentor who will guide you during your early stay in the Great Void. When you have learned all the basics, then you’ll have freedom to do whatever you want. Well, within the law of course.”“Unless you go to the Federation,” pointed out Clodovea. “Most people turn a blind eye to unsavoury things there.”“Sound like a pleasant place,” said Harry sarcastically.“If you know where to go and who to avoid, then it can be a rather pleasant place,” said Aminah. “And the prices are rather reasonable in their cities.”Harry felt a hand on his shoulder.“No need to be talking about things Harry here won’t understand for now,” declared Alexios. “What he needs right now, is to get registered. Come on kid, it’s right there on the tower.”The group guided him towards the Presidium’s headquarters, and with each step, he couldn’t help but wonder what exactly he had gotten himself into. The Database: Great Void – a dimension not connected to the general multiverse, “orbiting it” instead, and being located outside the normal time zone. Within it, countless and “smaller” dimensions are located, each connected by a complex network of portals. It is theorized that the Void is sentient, and it randomly chooses people to inhabit it, giving them the ability to travel between the void and their point of origin. Now at its seventh generation of factions, the Void is governed by the Great Conference.The Great Conference – a intergovernmental organization which governs the Great Void. It takes its name after the gatherings known as Great Conferences held by the Ten Ancestral Factions which ruled the Great Void in ancient times. It is composed of five factions, each having their own territories and laws. The main governmental body of the Conference is the Presidium, headed by an individual titled as President.Federation of Free Cities – one of the five factions of the Great Conference, it is governed by a group of representatives from the Seven Houses (also known as the Seven Families). The most infamous of the five factions, it is best known for its immoral businesses and lax policies regarding certain laws and criminals, mostly due to the fact that the Seven Houses are mob clans. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Disclaimer: The Harry Potter franchise and all its contents belongs to J.K. Rowling"Normal Speech" "Thoughts" Chapter 2 – Registration Praesidium Tower, Conference City The central dome which composed the base of the tower had been Harry's main destination, the young wizard entering it only to find a moderately sized reception hall. A circular desk stood in the middle, strange lights being emanated through the floor and the ceiling, creating a column of blueish light where the large desk was. Behind the desk stood a humanoid ghost-like figure, blended into the column of light."What… what are those things?" he whispered as the five approached the desk."Holograms," replied Alexios. "You never heard of those? Your universe at least should have them in science-fiction. That is, unless you came from a pre-modern age."Harry shook his head, being unfamiliar with the subject. As a wizard, he was by nature detached from sci-fi concepts, and the fact that the Dursleys had an immense dislike of the genre made it near-impossible for him to be decently familiarized with it during his childhood."Are they… alive?" he asked."Alive? Nah," replied Clodovea. "They're not even aware of themselves. Holograms are just computer programs projected as humans."As they got closer to one of the holograms, it became aware of their presence, focusing on the five visitors."Good afternoon, and welcome to the Praesidium Tower," said the hologram receptionist. "Please, state the reason of your visit.""Neophyte registration" affirmed Alexios.The hologram nodded. "Neophyte, please step forward."Harry did so, albeit wary of the hologram. The thing was too uncanny."State your full name.""Harry James Potter," said the wizard."Gender?""Male.""Current age.""Fifteen.""Point of origin?"What exactly was that supposed to mean? Harry had no idea what a point of origin was, and the question was a bit subjective."What's the point of origin?" he asked to the four."Where you come from," clarified Eamon. "The name of the planet is enough."Harry nodded, looking once more at the hologram."Earth."The hologram suddenly took several steps back, its section of the desk slowly descending, allowing anyone passage into the column."Please, step into the platform," said the hologram."Well, I guess this is where we split up," spoke Alexios."Huh? Oh, ok," said Harry. "Thanks for helping me back there in… whatever that place was.""No problem Harry," said Aminah. "We'll see you around.""Oh, and if you feel like it, give the Guild of Explorers a shot, will you?" suggested Clodovea. "Wizards usually have success there, and you may like it."Harry nodded. "I'll think about it. I'll see you around then."The four began to head towards the exit, and Harry turned his attention towards the circular platform in the middle of the column, the hologram still waiting for him to step onto it. He walked towards it, and as soon as he was on top of it, the platform began to descend slowly. The area around him was rather small, illuminated by blue lines on the lift's walls. The lift's velocity began to increase, and soon Harry had arrived at an antechamber where another hologram was."Welcome neophyte," it said. "In the name of the Great Conference, I welcome you to the Great Void. In this session, you shall complete your registration, followed by an introduction to the vast history of the Void and its current status, as defined by the laws of the Conference. Please, proceed into the next chamber."The hologram disappeared, and the door behind it opened, allowing Harry to enter the room. The hologram was already there waiting for him, and in the middle of the chamber was another light pillar, similar to that of the reception, albeit far smaller."Step into the light, to begin analysis."Despite not knowing what exactly this analysis was, Harry followed the hologram's commands."Analysis in progress… analysis complete," affirmed the hologram. "Type-3 supernatural genetic pattern detected. Present your magical apparatus for examination."Assuming the hologram was speaking about his wand, Harry took it from his jacket, holding it for the hologram to see."Magical apparatus composed of holly wood and phoenix feather," spoke the hologram. "Magical apparatus registration complete. Neophyte, please specify personal, non-intimate information for profile biography."So what exactly was he supposed to say here? At least the damned thing could be a bit clearer on what it wanted. It's not like he knew the specifications of the registration. Still, if some information was required, he could at least say a few basic things."I'm the son of Lily and James Potter, although the two were murdered. I live in England and study in the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as a member of Gryffindor House.""Adding information to personal records of Harry James Potter," said the program, his name being spoken in a slow manner. "Neophyte, proceed into the final chamber."Once more, the hologram disappeared, allowing Harry to enter the next room. It was circular and slightly larger than the previous one, and on the middle, was a pedestal with a strange object on top of it."At the end of registration, all neophytes are to be granted an identification device, formally known as the Console. This will be your means of identification within the Great Void, all information within accessible only to you. The device also contains other functions, amongst them voice recording, limited data storage, and communication with other void inhabitants," explained the hologram. "The Console is waterproof, and built with the intent of enduring as much damage as possible, without compromising utility. In the event of critical damage or theft, inform the proper office in the Praesidium Tower."Harry approached the pedestal, looking at the console. It was rather slim, and it appeared as if he needed to place it on his wrist, as if it was a watch of some sort. He exposed his right arm, and as he took hold of the console, the wizard placed the device on his arm, locking it into place."The device is synchronized with your personal profile, and ready to use. You may access the console by using the screen, or by voice," declared the hologram. "Now, step onto the circular platform beneath me, in order to continue."As before, the hologram vanished, a circular pattern appearing where it had been, indicating where Harry was supposed to be. The teenager stepped onto the circle, and this time, the platform began to ascend. The speed began to increase, and soon he was back on the ground level. Except the lift didn't stop there, instead continuing to ascend into the high levels of the dome beneath the tower. Playing Quidditch had done wonders to any possible manifestation of acrophobia, so he was little unfazed by how high the platform currently was.It finally reached its destination, stopping in some sort of empty waiting room. He had no idea of what to do right now, and so Harry decided to sit down, waiting to see if someone would come for him. A few moments later, his waiting came to an end, as a teenage girl came from a corridor. Her apparel seemed to be very… formal and official, something that Harry found to be rather off on someone of her age."Harry Potter, correct?" she asked, looking at a slim device on her hands.He nodded. "Yes.""Follow me, Mr. Potter," said the girl."Very official indeed," though the wizard.He followed her into a corridor, wondering where she was taking him and what would be coming next."You're a lucky one, you know?" she said."Oh, why?""Your Call came during a rather calm season. Few newcomers to the Void," she commented. "Give it a few weeks and this place will be again filled with people waiting for their turn to complete their registration."So there was some sort of pattern regarding new arrivals at the Great Void, and apparently, he had not followed said pattern. He should be thankful for that, if the girl's words were to be believed. She guided him into an office, closing the door as the two entered and motioning Harry to sit down in front of her desk."So, Mr. Potter, like the holograms down there, I'm going to make you some questions," she affirmed. "I need to have a clear understanding of your likes and dislikes, so that I can both assign a suitable mentor to you, and to suggest which guild you should join during your initiation period.""My initiation period?" asked Harry."As a neophyte, you have limited access to certain sections of the Void. You are new and unexperienced, which means you have to learn how things work in the Void, before we give you more liberties and privileges," said the girl. "It is obligatory for all neophytes to have a temporary membership in one of the major guilds of the Void, as to promote integration. Once the period has ended, they may choose whether to continue as members of the guild, or to cease work there.""Ok, I think I understand that.""Good. Now, Mr. Potter, your record indicates you are a type-3 supernatural. In other words, a wizard," she said whilst reading something in the computer. "Is that correct?"He nodded. "Yes.""Following the information on your profile, do you have any interest in any sports, either magical or non-magical?""I used to play a wizard sport called Quidditch back home," he said."Ah! Then you will be pleased to know that Quidditch is one of the several magical sports available here in the Void," she revealed. "If you have any future interest, then you must speak with the Guild of Magical Arts. They oversee magical sports and all related affairs."That was rather pleasing to know, and rather curious as well. The presence of other wizards was already surreal, but who would have guessed Quidditch existed in this strange dimension. And if there was Quidditch, then it meant someone from his universe was in the Great Void. Or at least had been once."Any other activities you partake in?" she asked.Harry shook his head. "Not really."The interview continued for a while, Harry being asked questions regarding topics he either liked or disliked, as well as giving certain details regarding his life that the girl deemed necessary to be recorded on his profile. It seemed he was one of those cases where there was so little information, that she was quite unable to give a proper suggestion."So, Mr. Potter. As the information you gave me is quite insufficient to assign you into a guild, the choice falls fully onto you," she said. "As a wizard, you are fully admissible into the Guild of Magical Arts, if you wish to join it. As a Neophyte, the basic choices for you would be the Guild of Explorers, the Guild of Cartographers, the Guild of Archivists, or the Guild of Caterers."If these four were considered to be the basic guilds which he could join, then Harry's curiosity was immediately drawn to the Guild of Explorers, although he was rather curious about the Guild of Magical Arts as well."Can you tell me about the Guild of Explorers?" he asked."As the name indicates, the main goal of this guild is to explore new worlds and to rediscover those lost in the great wars of the past. They work closely with guilds such as the cartographers and the analysts, and have a partnership with the Serene Republic.""Is that one of the five factions?" inquired Harry.She nodded. "It is. The Serene Republic of Cornaro is highly connected with several guilds and other institutions, due to shared interests. Especially minor merchant guilds," explained the girl. "Patrons from the Republic seek out the Guild of Explorers to locate worlds, explore them, and recover artefacts they desire to have. Still, membership in the Guild of Explorers proves to be rather active, compared to other guilds.""Well, I can guess what the other guilds do by their names, and I'm not very interested in them for the moment. The Guild of Magical Arts is too… obvious for me to join, so I guess I'll try the explorers' guild. How long does the initiation period last?""By default, a total of three months," she said, to Harry's shock and surprise. "If you receive recommendations from your guild, then the initiation is shortened."He couldn't spend three months in the void! What about Hogwarts, and the whole mess with Voldemort? He couldn't simply leave those things behind."Three months?" he asked. "I can't spend that much time here."The girl chuckled, knowing exactly the why of Harry's reaction."Actually you can," she stated, "The Void does not follow the normal laws of time associated with the general multiverse. In the Great Void, it flows at a faster rate than in all other universes. And joined with the lack of aging that affects all inhabitants of the void… well, I'm sure you can figure out the rest. I've been here for nearly sixty years."Harry simply stared at her, his mouth simply gaping in shock."So that's what Clodovea meant back in those ruins!" he thought in realization. She had said that compared to Alexios she was ancient, so that probably meant that she had been summoned to the Void long before Alexios had been.But that did not explain the lack of adults outside."Why are there no adults here? I mean, there were no outside and ignoring that many people are technically adults…""Honestly, no one is really sure," admitted the girl. "According to legend, the ten Ancestral Sovereigns decreed in one of the original Great Conferences that no physical adult was to be allowed entrance into the Great Void.""I'm sorry, but they decreed that?" he asked somewhat confused by the wording. Were these Ancestral Sovereigns some type of gods or anything similar to be able to decide something like that?"It's what the legend says," she repeated. "Weather that is or is not true, I want you to be aware of something Mr. Potter. The laws of reality within the void are… different. I cannot exactly say how, but the only example that comes to my mind right now relates to your ability to wield magic. While there is no major change from what it was in your origin universe, there will be certain aspects that are altered to fit the reality of this place. As I am not familiar with your magic, I cannot say exactly what is altered, but all those who wield some variation of it have said that certain concepts are different here. Did you understand what I said?"He nodded."Good. So, lets register you into the Guild of Explorers," she spoke while typing something in the computer. There was silence for a few moments, before she spoke again. "Very well, Mr. Potter. You are now registered into the explorer's guild, and have been assigned into the guild hall here in the city. Your registration is effectively complete, and the last thing we need is to assign you both a residence and a tutor.""A residence?""Well of course! Can't have you sleeping on the streets, after all!" said the girl. "Although the city is filled with residential buildings, it is also heavily populated. So we will assign you an apartment to share which you will share with other people. Don't worry, each has a limit of four residents, and when you have enough money, you may buy a house of your own, in any location you desire."The young wizard nodded again, watching as the girl returned to her computer. She began to type once again, stopping only after a few moments."Done. The system has sorted you into an apartment inhabited by just another person," she said. "Like you, a member of the Guild of Explorers. Now, wait here for a moment, I have to get something."She left the office, quickly returning with a small pen-like device on her hand. Sitting down, she showed it to Harry."This is an essential device you must have on your person all time," she declared. "This is the basic version of the Void Network Accessor. With this, you can access the portal network which connects all worlds within the Great Void. As I said before, you have restrictions regarding where you can go, but you'll find this rather useful anyway. Take it."She held the device towards Harry, who took it from her. Now that he had it closer, he could see that it looked like a slim flashlight of sorts, similar to that of Alexios."You use this by pointing it towards a surface, and thinking of the location which you desire to access. It picks up your mental signals in some way I cannot explain, and reflects them into the portal network. In the event of a high fall, or a lack of viable surfaces, the Accessor will spawn the portal at least twelve meters away from you, in any direction. Do you understand?""I think so… yes."He was quite sure that these technologies were only present in fiction, back in his universe. The closest thing he could think of that reminded him of portals, had to be either apparition or portkeys, and those were magical in nature. His sole and major conclusion at the moment was that the Void was weird."So Mr. Potter, since that is done, I think it's time to finally assign you a tutor."As long as it was someone decent, Harry concluded that he would be fine with whoever he ended up with. Therefore, considering his usual luck, he had little hope for that to happen. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Disclaimer: The Harry Potter franchise, and all its contents belong to J.K. Rowling"Normal Speech" "Thoughts" Chapter 3 – Sylvester "Syl" Jones Pieter van Straten Avenue, Penumbra District, Conference City One of several districts in Conference City, the Penumbra District loomed over the central district of the city, having been built on a rather steep hill. Still, the tall skyscrapers were not enough tall to surpass the Praesidium Tower, the enormous structure dwarfing all buildings in the city.Harry had arrived at the address given to him by the Conference official, feeling quite nervous and excited about this whole thing. It was basically the same as his introduction to the wizarding world, except unlike the wizarding world, had no prior connection to the Great Void. It was rather refreshing, really. And it seemed that he had more freedom in the Great Void than in the muggle world, so that was a plus. He looked around, seeing that there were few people on the streets, possibly because they were either in their homes or somewhere else in the Void. Not that it unnerved him, but it was a rather curious thing, compared to the square where he had arrived in with Alexios's team, which had been filled with many more people.He entered the apartment building which he had been assigned to, and immediately looked at his Console, looking at the information given to him regarding his new residence."Ok, so it's on the… bloody hell, that's high!"So apparently, his apartment was located on the eighty-fourth floor of the building. He could be mistaken, but he never flown that high during Quidditch. Well, no way to change it now… at least until he managed to acquire enough money to get his own house in the Void. Shrugging, he looked at what appeared to be the lift, entering it. There was a small pad with all numbers, what to do with them being quite obvious. Pressing "eight" and "four", Harry watched as the doors closed, and as the lift began to rise, first slowly and quickly increasing in speed.There was a window on the back of the lift, allowing him to see the exterior. As he rose, Harry quickly surpassed some of the surrounding buildings, soon observing the main district of the city below the Penumbra District, and the lightning-filled clouds above the Praesidium Tower. He did not even notice when the lift came to a full stop, doing so in a very smooth way. He had been so mesmerized by the rather gloomy yet attractive landscape that it was enough to distract him. It did not take long for him to notice something was different, and he quickly left the lift before looking at the Console once again."Eighty-fourth floor… apartment C," he mumbled while looking at the notes. "So, it's that one."It was right to the left side of the lift, and as he removed the set of keys given to him at the end of the registration, Harry approached the door, wondering if his roommate was inside or somewhere else. He opened the door, finding himself in a rather modern-looking room. As he lived in Privet Drive and spent much of the year in Hogwarts, the experience of these quite futuristic and high-tech buildings was… shocking, to say the least. And in a closed space, it was far more noticeable than in the great entrance hall of the Praesidium Tower.The holograms were tolerable, being rather similar to ghosts, and the portals too, were rather similar to certain methods of magical transportation. Yet for some reason, he was far more stunned by general furniture and decoration. And for obvious reasons, this house was filled with them."Hello!" he called out, seeing no one in the living room.He had no answer, but a few moments later, he heard hurried footsteps coming from a corridor to his left. He turned towards it, assuming that whoever was coming from there was his roommate. In that small moment, he began to wonder once again what his roommate would both look like, and be like. Out from the corridor came an older male teenager, around seventeen years old if Harry had to guess, dressed in a rather… interesting manner. He knew that Vernon had been a fan of music from the Seventies and the Eighties, although a secret one, being very careful not to show his interests when in public or during visits. So from glances at VHS tapes and music videos, Harry could at least identify where the clothes chosen by this teen came from.The boy had brown messy hair, and was fully dressed in white, a pink shirt being visible underneath the open blazer. For someone at home, it seemed a bit too much. That is, unless he had been out earlier or was planning to do so."Hey, you're my new roommate right?" asked the boy. "I got a message from the Conference a while ago."He had a strangely smooth voice, and spoke in a quite relaxed way.Harry nodded, feeling a bit awkward."Yeah. Harry Potter," he said, introducing himself.The other teen smiled and steeped forward in a rather theatrical way, extending his hand in greeting."And I am Sylvester Jones, retired king of all that is funk, non-professional explorer for the guild, and disc jockey for Millennial Records FM," he announced. "You can call me Syl.""Wow, this guy is flashy!" thought Harry while shaking hands. "Not as much as Lockhart, though.""So tell me kid, did they put you through that little questionnaire of theirs?" asked Syl."Yes," he replied."And they got nothin' out of it, am I right?"Harry nodded.Sylvester chuckled, before approaching Harry and placing an arm around his neck, leading him towards the building's balcony. Harry was extremely uncomfortable by this whole thing."Look kid, that whole thing was null," affirmed Syl. "They never get anything out of it, and when they do, it's normally the wrong one. Look at me, I was supposed to have been sent to the Guild of Historians, and look where I am now. Let the red tape stay in their little tower. Out here, it's all about what you choose to do, you dig?""Erm… I guess?"That came out sounding more like a question than an answer, but Sylvester either choose to ignore it, or missed it completely. If Harry had to guess, it was the latter."Listen to my wisdom kid. The Void is a good place to start anew… leave your old live behind for as long as you want," continued Syl, before pointing at the vast metropolis in front of them. "Look at this city, tell me what you see.""Well, it's a city," he said, knowing very well he was pointing out the obvious. "A gloomy, dark city.""You have to look beyond the shells," insisted Sylvester. "You see that, but I see the perfect place to introduce you to the Void. The city may look the same from wherever you look, but what's inside is what matters. Come on, let me show you."Now Harry had to interrupt."Sorry, but I'm not supposed to leave right now," he said. "I have to wait for my, erm… tutor to arrive."At best, Sylvester seemed to be rather amused."You're a bit slow, aren't you kid?" said Syl. "I am your tutor!"That Harry had not been expecting. He had been told that he would meet his tutor after he had arrived at his new residence, but he had not expected his tutor to also be his roommate."It's you?""Well, yeah. See, I'm an explorer, but also one of the tutors here in the city," explained the teenager. "The cats back in the Presidium saw this as an opportunity, so they placed you here with me. The tutor and the neophyte sharing a house makes things smoother to operate, you dig?""I do," he replied, still a bit confused and quite stunned. Yet Harry had to agree, it was rather convenient and made things less messy."Now, as I was saying," continued Syl. "I want to introduce you to a few people. Think of it as your welcoming committee, provided by yours truly."Harry's nervousness had a sudden increase. The Console Database: Pieter van Straten –A former inhabitant of the Void, he rose to the office of Serene Prince of Cornaro and became renowned enough to have a street in Conference City named after him. He was severed after an accident (believed by some to have been an assassination) during a new year speech.Severance – The term given to the event of "death" within the Void. An individual who is "severed" does not actually die, but is instead returned to their point of origin, although without the ability to return to the Void. As such, they are considered dead to those who remain within the Void, the possibility of communication being rendered null (excluding individuals who share the same point of origin). In the Void, voluntary severance of another is a serious crime, punishable by severing the perpetrator and any accomplice.Sylvester "Syl" Jones – A former lead singer and later a member of the Guild of Explorers. Was widely known in the void as the "King of Funk", and many still claim he is the undisputed title holder. Nowadays, he is a philanthropist, and a DJ for one of the major radio stations in the Void.
10010039	oh baby here comes the	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by Trojie", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-02-28T00:00:00", "words": "5,623", "Additional Tags": "Van Days, Touring, Unsafe Sex, somehow weirdly fluffy", "Relationship": "Frank Iero/Ray Toro", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Bandom, My Chemical Romance", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Frank and Ray should be a Sharks and Jets situation.Anyone who tries to tell you there's no war between punks and metalheads anymore has never walked into a record store wearing the wrong t-shirt. Frank's been put head-first in dumpsters for that shit, so you can't tell him they're all bonded by the simple joy of music. Fuck no.And that's why it should be the Sharks and the fucking Jets. But it isn't.They just should not mesh at all, their styles are so different, and they've both grown up, as musicians, with this idea that the shit they like should be incompatible. It's not a skill thing - Ray can jam around on a bouncy, aggressive riff if he wants to and Frank can tune down and chug if the mood takes him, sure - it's just that, when they're noodling around on their own, the melodies that sit in their chests like heartbeats are night and day. Have you fucking seen Ray Toro play though? He fuckin' - when Frank first met him he was playing drums, then bass, and he was just this fuzzy-headed glasses-wearing dork with a big grin, and then Frank lost track of him for a while until someone said oh yeah, Toro, he's playing guitar for that new group, chemical something.Somehow Pencey Prep got hold of My Chem's shitty-ass demo, and it turned out Ray Toro could fucking shred.Frank made them play that tape til it wore thin and broke. The rest of Pencey didn't get it, y'know? Punk and metal, that's an old war, and all of them have fought it in grimy pits and shitty house parties and late night shows they were too young to be at. But Frank always kinda thought it was bullshit, the posturing and the rivalries and the idea that playing guitar one way or the other somehow takes more chops. And then when he finally caught up with Toro again, he was the same way - he didn't care how Frank played, or what Frank played, just that he did play. That they could play together.*Ray likes watching Frank's hands on his fretboard. It's as simple as that. He forms his chords differently to Ray, more economical, doesn't have to cram his fingers in so tight down at the fifteenth fret but can't stretch for sixth from the second the way Ray can, either. He barres like he's trying to strangle his Epiphone because he doesn't have the leverage to do it gentle, rests his forearm on the top of the body and balances with his pinkie to pick and mute because if he tries to do it from the bridge he ends up fouling his strings- but he doesn't even think of it like that, not like Ray does. Because Frank plays with the kind of instinctive burning fire that Ray, who always begins every practice session with fifteen determined minutes of scales, every day since the first time he picked up a guitar, had always figured wasn't real. Not until this short kid with gross dreads and terrible fucking sweatpants barrelled into his life, and then into the studio his band were recording in, and suddenly Ray was watching a whole new way to play music, and couldn't look away. Hasn't been able to look away since. Since they started actually touring, that's not the only thing he's been looking at.Frank gets offstage drenched in sweat and only three quarters of it is his, he's still half-carrying Gerard, who's been mouthing at his neck for the last half of the set, and his hands are shaking when he puts his Les Paul in its flight case. When he looks up, Ray's smiling at him. Frank's been hard since Headfirst for Halos, there's something that just gets him about seeing Ray play that fucking killer riff like it's no big deal. He clicks the case shut and takes the moment while his hands are at crotch height to surreptitiously try and get his junk to stop pressing so damn hard against his zipper, but yeah, that's an epic fucking waste of time. Gerard's already gone, hunting for someone who shall remain anonymous but whose name rhymes with 'dude, you'll only get hurt' - not that you can get Gerard to listen - and Ray's smile is warm and sweet. They're in the fucking van tonight, gonna be driving through the night, trading off shifts behind the wheel and packing themselves in between merch boxes and gear. There's no way.Frank tries though, slides up to Ray with his fingers still stinging and swipes his mohawk out of his eyes and says, 'So, Toro -''Unless it's about beer or sleep I don't wanna hear it,' says Ray, but his eyes flick to Mikey, too close, sticking by them probably mostly because they can all hear Otter banging around just outside, packing his shit and swearing, and that wakes Frank up. The last thing either of them wants is for this to get out. Things are already volatile enough in this goddamn band, on this goddamn tour, and they can't - neither of them can risk it. Neither of them will risk it. Not for a quick fucking handjob. Not for anything, because it would cost them everything. 'Draw straws for the first drive, then,' says Frank. 'But no-one's getting wasted, okay, we gotta cross a fucking state line tonight, and I for one wanna live.'(They just don't let Gerard drive any more. It's the easiest solution to that little problem.)'I'll take the first shift,' says Mikey. He shuts the lid on his P bass and hefts the case up, stacks it with the rest of their stuff to go in the trailer. 'Just lemme find Gee.'It's a toss-up, which of finding Gerard mid-mess with the lead singer of the headliner they're touring with, or 'helping' Otter play tetris with his drums and the trailer, is the soft option, really, but Mikey usually gets in first and picks the Gerard door. Maybe the risk of seeing his brother's dick is still better than the way Otter yells, who knows. But he disappears and that leaves Ray and Frank looking at each other. Ray picks up his own guitar case and then reaches for Frank's, which means leaning into Frank's space, means there's a split second where they're so close Frank can smell the tail end of Ray's deodorant and the last faint lingering traces of his shampoo under stagelight sweat, and Ray brushes a soft, dick-jerking kiss across Frank's lip-ring. 'Sounded good out there tonight, Iero,' he says softly, and then he's gone too, out into the parking lot through the loading bay door. Frank has to grab the edge of the shitty-ass trestle table that was holding most of their gear, and take a fucking breath. If he has a wet dream tonight all over whichever box of shitty t-shirts he ends up curled around, it's not gonna be his fault. They've been trying out some of their new material on this tour, and it's going down fucking well. Maybe supporting act is as far as they're ever gonna climb, but if anyone does buy their new album, the track they're gonna be using to cover up the noises of their jerk-off sessions is definitely this one. Fuck knows it's what's been playing through Frank's head the last few times he's managed to get his hand on his dick. And on stage, it's all he can fucking do to stay on his feet and hit his marks when Ray plays that opening riff. Sometimes he doesn't. Sometimes he's on his knees before his pick even hits his strings.'Sister, I'm not much -' Gerard starts crooning, and Frank's still standing this time but he's gotta pull it together, man, because he needs his braincells in his actual head and blood supply to his fingers if he's gonna keep up on this one. He tears his eyes off Ray and attacks his line like it insulted his mother, but he can't look away too long. Their eyes meet and they're synced across the stage by the time Gerard is bellowing about how he wouldn't front the scene if you paid him, swinging his hips and leading the audience like the Pied fucking Piper. Fuck knows what Frank's fingers are doing, he's too involved in watching Ray's. They play their set and he dumps most of a bottle of water all over his head, flings the rest into the crowd, and wants to punch the air and start a fight and get laid and get wasted all at once.Gerard tells the audience they're all beautiful motherfuckers and thanks them and then the lights go down, and they're done for the nightThey're still in the fucking van tonight but they don't have to leave til later, and Mikey manages to catch Gerard before he can sneak off, and Otter's already gone, which means they have to pack his shit, the lazy fucker, but they end up in a bar and Frank hits the head pretty much first thing because has to piss like a racehorse, seriously, he's not even thinking of anything but his bladder except then Toro materialises beside him at the urinal and his eyes are big and dark and Frank's cock starts to get hard while he's holding it. They don't - they never do this. It's too public. Except, 'You gotta show me how you did that frigging -' Ray starts like they're talking shop at soundcheck but he's pushing Frank into a stall as he says it. Fuck it, Frank's pants are already round his knees, the door clatters behind them and Ray's hitching Frank up against him with one of those big, solid, gorgeous hands flat on the small of his back. 'I couldn't see it from the other side but you did something new, man, you did -''Shut up and fucking kiss me, Toro,' Frank mock-growls into his face, pulling him down basically by the hair. 'I'll give you a guitar lesson tomorrow,' and then they're kissing and possibly it's Ray's fingers Frank fantasises about when he does get a chance but damn his mouth's talented too. Frank finds himself fighting the instinct to close his eyes, because Ray's so close and the lights are on and Frank just wants to see, for once, but Ray's literally just wrapped his hand around Frank's cock when the bathroom door crashes open again and that's the unmistakeable sound of Gerard unable to walk by himself and Mikey psyching himself up to hold his brother's hair back while he barfs into a toilet and both Frank and Ray freeze. It's the most uncomfortable fifteen minutes of Frank's life.They're kicking their heels at soundcheck, waiting for the tech setting Otter's kit up to finish spinning wingnuts and checking heights. Everything is running behind at this venue, although most of the delay is the poor guy trying to fight Otter's belligerent micromanagement. Ray's tuning, because a moment spent checking your tuning is never wasted, not really paying attention to what the others are doing, until he hears the pop of an amp turning on and the momentary crackle of a lead getting jammed into a jack, and then he looks up. The tech is still doing something to a crash cymbal, so clearly it's not time to get started yet. Frank's over by his stack, though. He cranks both his tone pots up to full, stomps on his fuzz pedal, smiles secretively down at his hands and then he's flailing wildly at his strings, something that resolves into a riff Ray takes a moment to realise he recognises. Not quite this version of it, no, he learned the Metallica cover, but yeah, he knows this song.Otter turns around. Ray can't hear him over the noise of Frank, who doesn't have a microphone yet but is determinedly bellowing about how he'll be seeing you in hell, but he's pretty obviously saying something along the lines of not the fucking Misfits again. Gerard's giggling. The tech, clearly sensing that he's got an opening, speeds up his last few checks. And Ray, because he can't resist it, plugs his lead in and flicks his amp on, meets Frank's eyes and joins in. Die, die, die my darling, they yell at each other gleefully across the tiny stage. Otter stomps off just as the tech finally dusts his hands off.By the time they do get a motel night, Frank's got a medical case of blue balls and has graduated to weird fucking daydreams about sucking Ray off while he's playing a solo, which doesn't even work because there'd be a goddamn Les Paul literally in the way of, like, everything, but whatever, Ray can probably play a lap steel, he can play every other damn thing with strings. And if not, he can learn. Frank has needs, okay?Motel nights suck less than van nights in one way, because you get to actually stretch out on a horizontal surface, but they suck more than a van night when the fucking A/C doesn't work, because you're still stuck in a tiny box with four other sweaty dudes. Gerard and Mikey share one bed, because, well, a) it's Gerard and Mikey and b) no-one else can deal with their stench this far into a tour. Otter is a fuckin' giant and also he kicks, steals blankets, and generally sucks as a bedmate, so he usually gets the couch, and that leaves Frank and Ray in the other bed. Ray's a good dude to share with, he's not a pillow hog, doesn't snore if you can make him roll onto his side rather than his back, and only smells, like, a normal amount for a dude in what Frank's pretty sure is the second sweatiest profession after pro-footballer. Also Frank has a ginormous fuckin' boner for the guy and while normally that would be all kinds of awkward, it's kind of mutual for reasons Frank still doesn't understand but is not gonna complain about, hell no. Of course, you can't just like, get down and dirty with your bandmates in the room, but somewhere around 2am Ray rolls over and spoons up against Frank on the full, chest to Frank's shoulders and dick to Frank's ass and big hand on Frank's hip, and Frank shivers. ''Kay?' Ray murmurs softer than a whisper in Frank's ear, and Frank nods, lets the rustle of the pillowcase be his answer because they can't risk non-essential words. Ray eases Frank's boxers down under the curve of his ass, nudges him til he half-rolls onto his front and brings one knee up a bit, so he's spread as wide as he can go while still maintaining his plausible deniability, and rolls up against him. Ray's dick is wet already, and it slots up against Frank, the slick tip of it bumping at his hole, and fuck yes. Frank lies as still as he can but he's still shivering, full-bodied, desperate. You can be fucked in the ass with no prep if you go very, very slow, and you relax, and your partner is careful. Fortunately for Frank, Ray can be all kinds of careful.He just pushes. That's all, he just palms Frank's hip and sets the head of his cock in exactly the right spot and pushes, and Frank breathes as slow and as controlled as he can and rides the pounding of his heart and lets it happen the way he knows it will, waits for the pleasure to come the way he knows it will, because it's him and Ray, and they know what they're doing with each other.See, lead and rhythm isn't the same as lead and follow. Lead and rhythm is point and counterpoint, is give and take, is nothing to do with hierarchy and everything to do with trust. Frank trusts that if he lays it down Ray will pick it up, if he leaves it blank Ray will fill it up, if he lets it hang and squeal feedback into the ether then Ray will pickslide to a halt and meet his eyes and the crowd will go fucking apeshit because from the outside, yeah, maybe it looks a little bit like magic. Frank counts time in his head and exhales into his pillow and Ray pushes, waits, pushes, waits, in time with Frank's chest rising and falling, slides his hand down Frank's thigh to where the bruises are coming up from Pansy bashing him when he fell to his knees for the seventy-fifth time this tour. The ripped, white-thread fuzzy knees of his jeans are stained brown-red-pink now from all the blood he's spilled on stages from here all the way back to Jersey. Ray's all the way in. Frank's been all-in since they looked at each other in breathless fucking lust after playing Monroeville all the way through for the first time, the first guitar part Frank ever wrote for MCR weaving its way around what Ray had already laid down. After that, maybe this was always a foregone fucking conclusion.The steady heartbeat-kickdrum-tidal thud of Ray fucking him is hypnotising Frank. He's got that angle all perfect to slick past Frank's prostate every roll of his hips or so. Frank's mohawk is in his eyes and over his face, he can feel it move against his lips with every breath he lets out, still struggling to keep them even, not to pant, to give the game away. Getting fucked in the ass is like the best bruise ever, the deepest, the most settling ache. It puts Frank somewhere else in his head, somewhere good and warm and quiet. He pushes his knee further forward so he's almost all the way on his belly, cock rutting between his own skin and the sheets, and okay the friction's nice but what he wants is the way it opens him up wider and he can feel scratch of Ray's pubes against him where he's starting to get sore. He barely manages to strangle the moan that time. Ray's hand slides underneath him (he moves Frank so easy, so fucking steady and solid, fuck), wraps around Frank's cock and Frank's eyes start to water, he wants, he fucking wants so bad to roll them over and ride Ray's dick and hear the sounds he'd make, watch him come apart, but he can't. They can't. Sad but true (hah) Frank's never seen Ray's O-face. Never heard him make a single goddamn sound when he gets off. Knows what Ray's come tastes like, sure, but they've never done it in a place it was safe to have the light on or to look at each other or to say a fucking word. That bar bathroom was the closest they've ever got, and it was too much of a risk - they came so close to getting caught. Frank knows it was fucking dumb, knows they won't try it again. But it's okay. Frank gets to see the face Ray makes when Gerard's voice drops away and he's got eight bars of solo stretching away in front of him and a band that'll let him do what he was born to - he gets to hear the sounds Ray can coax from his humbuckers, and fuck you if you don't think that's orgasmic, or pure, or personal. And right now he's got the spread-wide hot stretch of Ray's dick all up in him and he screws his face into the pillow and rolls back into it, grinding between Ray and the mattress and clenching his fingers so hard in the sheets he can feel the texture of the mattress underneath. He's so close. He's so close. Ray must feel the hitch in his breathing because he nuzzles close, pushes harder, deeper, and catches the side of Frank's mouth in a kiss that's riskily visible but Frank can't resist turning his head to get the rest of it, twisting himself into a pretzel and getting Ray's tongue sliding against his and his airway just that tiny bit choked up and oh, oh fuck, fuck. Ray swallows the noises, and Frank is making fucking noises. He can't help himself. He unloads into the sheets and the sudden stink of come is like acid in his nostrils, but he can't stop, doesn't want to stop, squirms onto his belly on the full with the wet mess of his orgasm smearing underneath him and spreads his legs and Ray knows what he wants and gives it to him. It's another dumbass move because there's no plausible deniability to this pose but the others are drunk and snoring and Frank's tired of caution, oversensitive and shivery and six feet over the edge has always been his style anyway. Ray gets his knees under him and starts to pound Frank properly, latches onto the nape of his neck with his teeth and blankets Frank's body with his own and fucks hard and fast like he's only got eight bars left to do it in. When he tries to pull out afterwards, careful and gentle and clearly too fucking beat for an encore, Frank just wiggles backwards with him til he gives up and wraps his arms around Frank's shoulders, cock slowly going soft, Frank's brain fuzzing into sleep like the quiet, background hiss of an unplugged jack. They pull apart in the night, half-awake and reluctant, but they might as well have not bothered - everyone's still completely passed out when Frank, trying to be quiet and get up without moving too much, wakes Ray up. The room is warm and still, quiet like a church if a church was full of snoring, homeless bums. Ray risks sneaking a hand out to pet Frank's hip and Frank squirms. Ray's fingertips slip, graze the curve of Frank's ass instead, and he suddenly thinks, remembers, christ, they made a mess last night. Frank remembers too, if the smoky look he throws Ray over his shoulder is any indication. Ray gives him a nudge, and he slides out of bed to pad into the bathroom. The shower turns on. Gerard groans at the noise and flops over onto his other side, but otherwise, to all intents and purposes he might as well be fucking dead. Mikey's an even more convincing corpse, didn't even flinch even when Gerard's hand smacked him in the chest. Someone farts loudly. Ray lies there with his eyes half open and his body still half-asleep and feels good, grossed-out and affectionate all at once, mixed in with the happy brain chemicals of having gotten laid last night. The shower shuts off and Frank comes back in with a towel wrapped around himself. Ray finds himself idly wondering how the fuck it stays up, given how little of Frank there is for it to cling to. He watches Frank find clothes. The bruises all over his back and down his thighs from the stage have new friends - he fumbles to hold the towel up as he bends down to grab his bag, and Ray can see when he pushes his fingers into the ghost-marks of Ray's hold on him last night and smiles secretly down at his stuff. Ray would feel bad for bruising Frank if Frank didn't like it - just like he used to feel bad for wanting to suggest tweaks to Frank's guitar lines until he saw how Frank's face lit up when he tried them. Now they're both all over each other's riffs at rehearsals, and two weeks ago Frank leapt on Ray during To The End and the resulting collision left Ray black and blue all over his right side and okay, it fucking hurt, but part of him was sad when the marks faded to yellow and disappeared.They're rubbing off on each other, is the thing, and not just literally. It takes three quarters of an hour, a coffee run, a pillow thrown at Otter's head, and the sheets physically ripped off of Mikey's comatose string-bean body when he refuses to play ball, to get everyone up and in the van for the last leg. Four more shows. Ray is so ready to be done with this clusterfuck of a tour. When they're in, though, and the doors are slammed and everyone is at least pretending to wear their seatbelt and almost definitely calling Ray 'mom' sarcastically in their heads (he's used to it), and the sun is shining in the grimy windows, and Frank's got his feet on the dashboard …… then Ray remembers he's in a kickass band, on tour, and he can't help drumming a happy little rhythm on the steering wheel. They've been home two days, Frank has finally managed to sleep long enough that his eyeballs don't feel boiled any more, and he's just put the last load of laundry in the dryer, when his phone goes off.'Hey Toro,' he says, pinning his phone between his face and his shoulder, and hefting his now-empty bag. 'You get home okay?' Mikey drew the short straw for the final drive back and dropping them all off at the various places they're crashing. Ray had pretty much been asleep in the back of the van when they pulled up outside Frank's parents' place, which is where he's stuck for a while til he finds somewhere else. Or maybe not, if Brian can get them another round of shows as fast as he says he can. 'Yeah,' Ray stifles a yawn, though, which makes Frank snort. 'Hey, you wanna come over and jam?'Three nights ago Frank had been the closest he's ever been to wanting someone to take his damn guitar off him and just, like, not bring it back. If you'd asked him, even yesterday, if he wanted to jam, he'd have laughed in your face. But as soon as Ray says it, it's like his fingers aren't sore any more and he doesn't have a bruised tailbone from landing on his ass wrong on stage.'Hell yes,' he says, slinging his empty duffle on his bed and immediately reaching for his gigbag. 'I'll be right over.''Awesome,' says Ray. 'I've got the place to myself right now, bring a practice amp. We can get loud,' he adds, and hangs up.The best part about Ray is Frank doesn't know if that's meant to be a come-on or not, and he's up for it either way. He unearths a little 30 watt Fender he hasn't used since they got a practice space that wasn't someone's garage anyway. Frank's crouching down on Ray's bedroom floor, doing something to his fuzz pedal, when Ray just can't wait any longer. He puts his Les Paul down and leans over into Frank's space. 'Y'know,' he murmurs, 'there's other ways we could be loud, too.'He touches Frank's hair softly. Frank grins up at him, wicked under his eyelashes. 'Oh,' he says innocently. 'You wanna crank it up to eleven, huh?' He lets the guitar slide off his lap gently onto the floor, though, with a little pat he probably doesn't even realise he's giving it, and shoulders his way in between Ray's knees. 'I wanna crank it up as far as it'll go,' says Ray honestly. He grabs Frank's hands off his thighs and pulls him up til they're both standing, because he's had enough of this wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am bullshit. 'Come to bed with me?''Fuck yeah,' Frank breathes. The curtains are open and the window is too, and Ray can smell, like, sunshine and warm summer air and the fact that Frank showered this morning when they fall onto his bed together. He rolls onto his back and pulls Frank with him, on top where he can kiss him without being worried he's gonna - 'Fucking hell, Toro, I'm not Tinkerbell, you're not gonna crush me,' says Frank, wriggling and giggling his ridiculous stoner giggle but not rolling off. He ducks down to mouth at Ray's jawline. Ray lets his legs fall open so Frank can settle between them, and starts pulling at the hem of Frank's shirt. When Frank gets with the program and leans up to pull it off, Ray's breath hitches. He has to touch, he just has to. He hasn't really felt anything in his fingertips for years, but he traces them over Frank's ink all the same, then lays his palm down flat, because that is sensitive, that he does feel with, can judge pressure and vibration, and Frank's heart under Ray's hand is fluttering like one of the birds on his hips. 'So that's why you wanted me up here, huh?' Frank says, a little breathless but a lot cocky still. 'To ogle me. Want me to ride you?' he asks. 'Give you a good fucking view?' He's hard and he's rolling his cock against Ray's, already a rhythm Ray wants to follow.'Later,' says Ray, because his parents are away for the weekend and his brothers have, y'know, jobs that have allowed them to at least rent if not own their own places, and so there is going to be time for later, he can say that now. 'Thought maybe you could fuck me, first,' he says, trying to keep his voice like, nonchalant and shit. Frank's eyes pinch shut for a second like he has to pull himself together, but when he opens them he immediately starts palming Ray's dick through his jeans. 'Think I can probably manage that, yeah,' he says, grinning. It feels really good and really … transgressive, or something, fuck, Ray maybe needs to stop listening to Gerard's rambling stage speeches, to be naked with someone in your childhood bed with the freaking windows open. Frank is stroking Ray's dick softly, sitting back on his haunches and watching Ray breathe into it and smiling. 'You got lube, right?' he asks. Ray rolls his eyes and stretches out to the bedside cabinet to grab it. And it turns out watching Frank finger you open is even hotter than watching him fret barre chords, but the face of concentration he makes is exactly the same. It's so goddamn unfair that Ray's only seeing this for the first time now after they've been screwing around for months and at the same time maybe thank God Ray hasn't seen this before because he's gonna be popping inappropriate boners at rehearsal for sure after this. Frank pulls his fingers out and sits his wet hand on Ray's hip, pulls Ray's thighs til he's splayed wide with one leg awkwardly up, and then stretches out over him and buries his dry hand in Ray's hair. 'You ready?' he says, and it's not a whisper and it's not down the dead mic and it's not a joke, it's honest and it's out loud. Ray's voice doesn't work any more, all of a sudden, but he nods. Frank smiles down at him and kisses him quickly, just a clumsy brush of their faces together that drags the metal of his lip ring against Ray's wet, panting mouth and shocks a noise out of him. When Frank fucks into Ray it melts him. Melts both of them, and for all Ray's been wanting to see Frank, he can't force himself to keep his eyes open. Sensation strobes, breaks up like a kaleidoscope, Frank fucks like a bunny and Ray's legs fall open wide like he's pulling one of Frank's stage moves, flat to the mattress, spine bending, just … just channelling what he's feeling. He can hear, though, he can hear everything, every noise Frank makes and God he makes a lot of them, that treble whine through his nose filling up the high end and how he grunts fuck and shit and Ray's name lower, spreading out his octaves, and further under that there's the flat bombastic kick-drum of their skin slapping together, and Ray clutches at Frank's shoulders and adds his own lines, fucks his hips up to meet Frank's. It feels so right, the rhythm Frank's setting. 'Yeah, there you go,' says Frank after a while, when Ray's wound up about as tight as he'll go. 'C'mon, Toro, wanna see you lose it, man, wanna hear you, c'mon, c'mon -' and he wraps his hand around Ray's dick and starts jerking him, counterpoint, beat-matched and in sync. Pushing Ray the way he needs to be pushed, setting it up for him, giving him every goddamn thing he needs so that what they're making together will be perfect.Ray slams into orgasm and Frank, fucking hell - like always, every time since the first time - Frank follows his lead. **Ray's lips are against the fuzzy, need-a-buzz nape of Frank's neck, where the mohawk needs a tidy-up, the sides starting to grow out, and Ray's crazy epic curls are sticking to Frank's cheek, and fuck, they're such a pair of cock-rock cliches, Frank loves it.He loves that the Iron Maiden shirt Ray sleeps in is scratchy between his shoulderblades. He loves the garnet red eyeshadow smeared all over his pillow. He loves that he knows for a fact that not only is he a better guitarist than every Metallica-shirt-wearing asshole in every record shop who ever called him a faggot growing up, but he's fucking one who'd make them cream their pretentious unwashed jeans. There's a lot of bullshit floating around about music, about guitar players, about aggression and masculinity and dominance, and Frank doesn't care about any of it, and neither does Ray.Maybe the bullshit didn't stick because deep down, neither of them is a fighter. No. Both of them, they're the other thing.
10050485	Never Happened	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Fred Weasley, Other(s)", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by Shateiel", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2006-07-27T00:00:00", "words": "1,159", "Additional Tags": "Incest, Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "HPFandom", "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 }	Title: Never Happened.Pairing: PW/FWRating: M+Summary: Set two years after Apologize. Fredrick walks in on Percy taking a bath. Short fic. Somewhat nostalgic…------------------Percy isn't at all what Fredrick Weasley thought he would be interested in.But that thought is dashed as soon as he finds himself in his Third Year underneath his older brother squirming and panting with pleasure.However when his younger sister nearly broke his heart when she told him Percy was dating a girl named Penelope Clearwater it was the end of a nearly two year relationship…of sorts.Not that Fredrick was ever under the illusion that it was a real relationship.After all it was just sex whenever they could. Which is quite often, if you know where to go.Fredrick had the Marauder's Map so he definitely knew where to go.-------------------Fredrick remembers when his brother started bottoming too.How Percy would cuddle him and would kiss his neck and nibble his lips. In that awful wet way of his. He remembers the way that when they would get excited and when he would open Percy's legs for himself he would stare at his pucker and watch as the red puffy and engorge with blood as his older more strict brother keened for him…--------------------Fredrick will be alone in the Fifth Year's bathroom when he masturbates to the memories of Percy.He'll spit or just suck on his own middle finger and move it behind him as he leans his forehead on the tile. His right hand will go behind him and spread his arse cheeks open and rub slowly and harshly as his other hand pumps his erection.All the while he'll think of Percy behind him doing something he only ever had the chance to do twice. The way that the over wet tongue would probe his arse hole and slowly thrust in and out as Fredrick with his hips high in the air would start to jerk himself off just feeling the pleasure…He'll think of this as he slowly moves the finger in the renewed tightness just going in and out trying to get the finger deeper each time.His finger will finally find that rock hard gland that Percy would hit on time and make him scream. He shifts his right arm trying to rub it in the way that makes it even better. He'll put three in there and start pushing them in and out rubbing his prostate gland harshly until he forgets about jacking off and just braces himself on the tile in front of him making desperate noise as he continues to finger fuck his arse…He comes with a rush of sudden relaxation while at the same time his stout sun stained freckled body slumps…-------------------------He stares at his older brother sometimes.He tries not to. He'd rather not let his older brother know that he still desperately wants him.Because he doesn't.------------------------When he's on his bed he'll take out something that nearly cost him both an arm and a leg to get.A small silicon replica of a man's dick.It's smaller than Percy's was both in width and height. When he places it in his arse he feels something inside him turn wishing that there was a weight weighing him down and red curls getting in his eyes…But he still moves it in and out and sometime even uses his wand to engorge it and pump it out on it's own…------------------------Fredrick will sometimes think at the most uncomfortable times about how he liked to fuck with Percy. When he's straddle Percy and revel in the way that the normally composed Prefect would throw his head side to side sweat pouring off him as he slowly puts the purpled and pained looking cock up his arse and sit down impaling himself. All the while trying to set an impossible pace that will make Percy and him nearly scream with pleasure…Or he'll think of the missionary position that Percy liked. The impossibly long legs on either side of him as he would slowly move inside Percy.------------------------Percy would talk about all the things that Fredrick didn't care about.Like school and politics.But Fredrick would simply breathe in the scent that was coffee and dusty books from Percy. He himself never really talked. Mostly because it didn't really occur to him to talk to Percy in an attempt of trying to create something more.He thought that being brothers was something more.But apparently it didn't.The way he talks with Clearwater both of them riveted in whatever they may be saying.The way neither he nor Fredrick even bother with 'Hello' anymore. After all whenever they are in the same room with each other, there are others in the same room.So really there is no need for them to be around each other.Fredrick knows in his heart that Percy does look for him. He does try to reach out to Fredrick but Fredrick won't have it. He hides away and tries hard not to think of the pounding in chest as he buries himself down.---------------------------The Summer Holidays are here and Fredrick finds that he's hurting even more. The tickets his father has managed to get a hold of make everyone excited but all that Fredrick can think of is how his older brother is out of school and of an age to marry his sweetheart.It is a dark night where the rain seems to be freezing and it breaks screams on the old windows…He's decided to take a bath. After all it seems more soothing during one of these unseasonable weather outbreaks."Oh!" He steps back. His eyes wide because he hadn't meant on walking in on someone taking a bath.Percy makes a noise. The foam in the bathtub falling messily on the floor in great gulps as he shifts his lithe body. His red curls are plastered to the pale forehead and his full lips are flush because of the heat.He doesn't really see Fredrick because he doesn't have his glasses on but Fredrick still mutters a hurried and rushed 'Sorry' and gets the hell out of the bathroom.------------------------------To be honest Fredrick doesn’t really care if Percy's his older brother.He never has.Why should the whole affair be different as it was when he and George would pull the pranks on Percy?But he lies in bed thinking on how different it would have been.If it had never started.------------------------A/N: I like writing this pairing a lot but I made this short because I didn't really want a sequel but I thought that Apologize didn't cover the ground basis for Fred. In this fic I didn't care about the dynamics more about how Fred would find sex with his brother different than what Percy would find… Besides I wanted to have some smut…
10028711	New Life New Home	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Ezekiel \| Gadreel, Michael (Supernatural), Lucifer (Supernatural), Raphael (Supernatural), Gabriel (Supernatural), Other Character Tags to Be Added", "Fandom": "Supernatural", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by Monkeygirl77", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-01T00:00:00", "words": "2,745", "Additional Tags": "gadreel needs a hug, he now has four big brothers who would love too, life couldnt be better, happy endings, do exist, Forgiveness as been had, Lucifer's back guys, he went on home, Chuck and Amara are cool now, Gadreel lives with the Archangels, He is their charge, they his guardians, its all good", "Relationship": "Gadreel & Archangels", "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 }	Lesson He screamed in aggravation, thrusting his blade into the ground under him, he had once been one of the best warriors to ever walk through Eden before being taken to the prisons and submitted to tortures unimaginable. Now he was lucky if he could hold the blade up long enough to attempt to swing it at his sparring opponent. Gadreel swiped at the sweat pouring from his temple in frustration. "Forget it! I will never be to the standard I am expected to be!" Behind him, another sighed, and a sword was set aside next to him against the bench. Guarders were discarded and leathers removed. They knelt slightly, taking his hands in grasp, tugging them lightly for attention to be granted. "What is expected of you is to get better, to heal, nothing more little brother." Gadreel looked up finally to meet Michael's gaze. The Archangel smiled at him gently. "You will get better at fighting, but with time, you have been through much. Don't be so hard on yourself." The younger brother nodded in agreement, sighing through his nose heavier then before, he knew what his brother said was truth. Michael was the best there ever was when it came to War and Battle. He'd taught him everything he knew the first time and he had agreed to do it again. After a long argument about the matter between all four Archangels concerning the matter, that is. "Now come," He pulled the younger angel up from his seat and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, "We are done for the day, our brothers have been asking about you all this time, shall we relieve their suffering?" Gadreel leaned into his side, reaching up to intertwine his fingers with the hand hanging from his shoulder. "They always worry." Michael pressed his lips to the side of his head. "Because we care for you." Uncle "Say it!" Lucifer grinned brightly, scribbling his fingers over the others giggle filled tummy, his poor victim squirmed and shrieked happily under him. Gadreel pushed weakly at his older brother, and when that didn't work in his favor, he pushed at his brother hands. The elder was quicker than him though and was able to evade to attempts. "I'm not going to stop until you say it!" "Aaaahhahahaa no no! Pleheheheheease!" Others shook their heads at the two as they passed in the garden, it was... Humorous... to see the sight of a mighty Archangel kneeling over the shrill squeaking body rolling on the soft grass under them. Gadreel yelled, kicking out with his leg when a hand reach back for his foot. "How about those little toesies! Those'll make you crack!" "Nahahahaha! Heeheheeahahaha! Not that! Not that!" "Say it then!" Gadreel threw his head back, kicking wildly to free his toes from his older brothers evil torture. "Nehehehever!" "Maybe some kisses to this poor abused belly would do you some good!" "Noohahahahahha! Not that! Nohoahohaot Kihihi! Not the kisses!" "Oooh the kisses! One for every minute you refuse to say it!" He was going to die. Death by laughter, of all the ways to go, that was going to be how he went. Gadreel's pride would not allow him to cry the word he desired to hear. Three kisses down. "UNCLE! UNCLE!" Discipline "You killed a Prophet?" Raphael stood before him with his arms crossed over his chest, face set into a firm scolding frown, and he was in the position to punish. His younger brother looked away. There was not need to bother in arguing the fact of what he had done, it had happened and he was solely responsible for it, and there was no way of changing it. Gadreel had killed a prophet. He should have known that his older brother would find out and he knew he wouldn't be pleased. Raphael guarded the Prophets, and he'd killed one. "Gadreel." The Archangel encouraged him to confirm, "Yes, I did brother." Raphael nodded his head in acknowledgement. "And you know you must be punished for such an action." He swallowed, gulping near silently, "Your... Your going to hit me?" That softened the angered archangel considerably and he crossed to kneel before him. "No Gaddy, no, never hit. Never." He pressed a kiss to each palm. "No. Never hit. But you must be punished for your deed. You will be punished as any fledgling would, and have you ever seen us hit a fledgling?" Raphael waited until he got a head shake before continuing. He explained exactly what he was going to do and how he was going to do it. Gadreel nodded along in understanding. He didn't like it, but he understood why he deserved it. "Come now little brother, the sooner we start, the sooner it's over." Raphael pulled the younger angel up from his seat and lead him over to his desk. Pulling the chair out he pulled it further away from the desk and sat, pulling Gadreel over his lap. Lifting the back of his robes up slightly he pulled his hand back. "Ready? I want you to count Gadreel, fifteen." He nodded nervously, gulping near silently. "Yes Sir." The hand came down hard, the sting was felt despite the warning, and it hurt. Gadreel whined lowly at the feeling. "Number?" "One." He jumped at the second. "Two." And the third, and forth, and the few after that. By the time they reached ten tears were streaming down his face, from the mixture of sting and humiliation from the spanking itself. He was just thankful that they had not done this at the center. At least he had some sort of privacy here. "Ten!" Gadreel yelled out when a hand was brought down on his bright red bottom. It hurt, and he gripped tightly at his older brothers knee. Raphael remained firm though, being an Archangel made him used to punishing fledglings in dire need of such comeuppance. "Why are you being punished Gadreel?" "Eleven! Because..." He took a deep breath, "I killed a Prophet!" "And?" "Twelve! Brother please!" "And?" "Thirteen! And I aided Metatron in banishing those in Heaven!" There was a hum from above his head, and the last two were brought down quickly upon his sit spots, his sobs did not indicate that he was aware that the punishment was over. Gadreel was sagging over Raphael's knees sobbing his little angel heart out. Raphael rubbed at his lower back gently, pulling his robes back over his bright red bottom, and helped him in standing back up. Gadreel sniffled wiping at his bloodshot eyes quickly. His older brother hummed again, reaching for his hands before he could rub at those red eyes once more and pulled them away. Tugging lightly the Archangel pulled his chastised brother down into his lap. He pressed a kiss to his warm forehead. "There there, the slate is clean once more brother mine, hush now." Gadreel hiccuped lightly, "I'm sorry." "I know, ssshhh ssshhh, you've been forgiven little wing." "Is...Is Michael still angered?" Raphael sapped the fear up in the others grace, tucking him down under his chin, and scratched at his back comfortingly. "He was not happy with you, no, but you know he cannot stay mad at you for long." He leaned down, his chin brushing his younger brothers temple lightly. "We love you Gaddy." The younger yawned, "Love you too." His older brother smiled, he could feel it. "Close your eyes precious one, close your eyes and rest, you're completely spent." "Stay?" "I don't see myself letting you go for some time yet little one." Gadreel felt his eyes sliding shut slowly, and he nuzzled into his brothers chest sleepily, he was completely spent. "There you are, that's a good angel." He was warm, safe, sleepy, and he was home. "You are so loved, little dragonfly." And he was loved. Asphyxiation It had been a long tedious search for the beloved charge of the Archangels, who had disappeared one day while on a mission down in the catacombs of the Earth. They had been enraged that someone would dare take him out from under their noses and all of Heaven felt their rage. Times had been peaceful since all four Archangels had returned to the Fold. But their anger was still as palpable as ever, and even more dangerous. Never before had then had a common interest that kept them together, Gadreel had become their little one, though he was not as little as one would assume by the way they talked about him he was their little one. Search parties had been dispatched immediately and as of the day they had always returned downtrodden and empty handed. They too missed the Archangels charge, Gadreel had softened them, made them back into who they had once been. It was unimaginable as to what life would turn into if he was not found. It was something no one wanted to live through to find out either. Days turned to weeks and then on what seemed to be an impossible occurrence, news spread quickly. Gabriel's head flew upwards so quickly the ones around him worried for a moment that he might have given himself whiplash. 'Arc Gabriel, we have found him! I repeat! We have located him at long last!' He jumped from his seat at the council table, not seeing the concerned looks passed his way by his older brothers. "You have him?" 'Yes Sir, he is in our custody.' "How is he? Is he alright? Where are you?" There was a moment of silence after that, and he was half tempted to dive into the others mind to see for himself, but he held back. If Zavekiel was flying it would do more harm than good. So he had to wait. 'Sir, I think it best if you and Arc Raphael were awaiting us at the Hospital.' That was not something any of the four wanted to hear, and it only provided them with more questions then not, but Raphael was at his side in a mere look and steadying him as they took to the air. It did not take a genius to figure out that Raphael had hijacked his mental link and was conversing with Zavekiel on the condition of their little charge. They placed the grand entrance to the Hospital waiting for the dispatched searchers to return with their precious charge, well, Gabriel was. Raphael stood completely still, back straight and arms crossed easily over his chest, resolute as ever. Gabriel turned on him quickly. "How can you stand there so calm like that!" His older brother raised an eyebrow, "Do not think that you are too old for me to put you to sleep little brother, do not talk to me with that tone." The younger archangel blushed a deep crimson at the scolding, turning away from him and any prying eyes. "They've arrived." He followed his older brothers outstretched finger and squinted to see the wavering figures of his little brothers. Zaveriel landed wobbily, under the weight of the larger angel he carried. Gadreel was dripping something all over the marble entrance, and upon further inspection, both Archangels were surprised to find out it was water. Ice cold water. Raphael fell into medic mode immediately, motioning for them to enter, calling out instructions for the nurses around him to gather supplies. Zavekiel smiled gratefully when Gabriel lifted the heavy cargo from over his shoulder, carrying him in instead of forcing the younger to do so himself. They both turned at the Healer's call. "And make sure that little sneak Zaves doesn't sneak off as well, I am sure that Gadreel is freezing, I want that little thing under a blanket immediately." Gabriel grinned at his younger brother over Gadreel's shoulder, "Come along little guy, you know what Raph will do if he's forced to chase you down later." Everyone knew what the Healer would do should that have to happen, and Zaveriel followed dutifully wanting to avoid the Healer's wrathful tickles and coddling. They made it to the large room of the Hospital, surrounded by beds and others in the care of Raphael and his healers, the Head pointed at a bed and gave Zaveriel a look as if to order him to strip down and climb under those covers. He did as he was silently told. "Gabriel set him here." Setting Gadreel down, they were both shocked into stillness to see his blue gaze staring up at them. Raphael took merely a moment to recover. He was quick and practical, well versed in his work. "Gabriel can you retrieve the bottle with the red cap for me?" Gabriel nodded, rubbing a hand against his favorite little charges cheek, before turning and moving to get what he was told. Gadreel eyed the jug as he came back and shook his head. He hated that stuff. Raphael tutted under his breath, using a stethoscope to listen to his chest and stomach. "There is too much water inside you Gadreel, it needs to come out, were you...?....." Gabriel spared the bottle a look of similar disgust and his head shot up. "Water? Was someone drowning you?" His grace sparked dangerously disturbing the others around him, Gabriel looked around deer in headlights expression and looked guilty at disturbing the others. Zaveriel giggled under his breath at the startled archangel. Gabriel shot him a sideways look in playful warning. "I believe that to be the case Gabriel, Zaveriel, do you know if your Legion members caught whoever it was that did such a deed to our youngest fold member?" The questioned angel nodded silently as he cuddled down into his bed, it was unseen, but they were all sure that Raphael had wrapped him in his soothing grace. "No." Even in this precarious condition Gadreel was as stubborn as ever. Even though he'd been stripped down to his undergarments and tucked into as many blankets as Raphael pleased, he was still being pigheaded about taking the medicine he knew he detested with a passion. Gabriel scratched a finger behind his little ones ear, Gadreel opened his mouth to tell him to quit, and Raphael poured the foul substance in. The look they received for their efforts was one of immense betrayal, and Gabriel clapped a hand over his mouth when he looked as if he was on the verge of spitting it out. "No no little guy, not a bright idea." Gadreel's eyes crossed to peer up at him and he made a noise under his hands. "Gabriel force him to swallow." "How?" "Stroke his throat to force his reflex." Gabriel moved one of his hands to do as instructed and rubbed his fingers down his brothers throat softly, Gadreel swallowed against his will. Raphael moved immediately to gather up a bucket for the inevitable vomit fest that was about to take place. He whined when the medicine took hold and he knew what was going to happen. Gabriel smiled sadly at him, scratching lightly at his temple in comfort. "It's okay little buddy, let it all out and then I'm gonna cuddle you like there's no tomorrow." Gadreel coughed and hunched over the side of the bed, Raphael returned at the right moment and a bucket was slid under him at the right moment. He puked up mouthful after mouthful of water. Tears came to his eyes as his throat began to burn, and all the while his two older brothers sat by his side, whispering words of comfort to him and rubbing his shoulders and back as he regurgitated his stomach contents into the bucket below him. There was a lot of water. Almost an entire bucket full. He stopped, coughing harshly, and whining softly about not wanting to do it anymore. "Come now, everything has to come up little one." It takes a good long while but he finally stops completely, and his head falls limply into Gabriel's lap. The Messenger smiled softly down at him, whispering soft words of comfort. He was exhausted after such an ordeal. "Sleep it off little guy, you need it." Raphael leaves them for a moment to check up on the peacefully sleeping Zaveriel. "I was scared." Gabriel smiles down at him again, brushing his bangs back lightly, and leans down to kiss his temple. "We were too." Gadreel hums sleepily. "But your back now, and back to where you'll stay."
10069319	Almost	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Kaidan Alenko, Female Shepard (Mass Effect)", "Fandom": "Mass Effect", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by space_squirrel", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-03T00:00:00", "words": "100", "Additional Tags": "almost, kiss, First Kiss, damn you joker, 100 Drabble Challenge", "Relationship": "Kaidan Alenko/Female Shepard", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Perfect 100's", "Collections": "MEFFW 100 Word Drabble Challenge", "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 }	Sighing, Shepard grabs Kaidan's offered hand. It's warm and calloused, and she can't help but wonder what his hands would feel like running the length of her back. She moves to pull herself up; at the same moment Kaidan tugs her arm, and suddenly she's stumbling forward, time slowing to a crawl. Kaidan's hands make their way to her waist, and she inhales sharply, their lips mere inches apart. Flushing, she closes the gap, lips parted-Joker's voice is abruptly blasting across the comm, and Shepard finds herself jumping back."Sorry to interrupt, Commander. Got a message from Captain Anderson."
10062473	Until the Morning Light	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Matthew Casey, Gabriela Dawson, Louie", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by andsocanshe", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-03T00:00:00", "words": "849", "Additional Tags": "cc prompts", "Relationship": "Matthew Casey/Gabriela Dawson", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Chicago Fire, One Chicago", "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 }	I wasn't there the moment You first learned to breathe But I'm on my way, on my way I wasn't there the moment You got off your knees But I'm on my way, on my way --She had wanted to say no. When Tina Cantrall from DCFS called just after she’d gotten off shift, explaining that she had a child in emergency custody who was in need of a fast placement, Gabby had wanted to say no- tried to say no. She and Matt had been through so much in the past year and a half; losing their biological baby and then Louie and neither of them could handle loving another child only to have him or her taken away, not again.But something inside of her insisted “yes” and before she knew it, she and Casey were standing outside of the 21st District of the Chicago PD the next morning- Thursday, their day off- waiting for the woman that had helped them while trying to adopt Louie.“You sure you want to do this?” Matt asked, rubbing a circle in the palm of her hand. Gabby knew that he could sense her nerves, and that this was just as hard for him as it was her, even as he held her still.“No,” she shook her head, “But I just keep picturing Louie, and I can see his little face the first time I saw him. He was so scared and helpless, I just...if we can take that from another kid, we have to.”He nodded, understanding. Watching Louie come into their lives alone and broken, and even the Darden boys who were terrified, had stuck with him.The sound of footsteps approaching interrupted the silent conversation that they’d been having and Dawson turned to find Tina, the social worker, walking toward them. Her pace was slow, matching that of the child whose hand she held and the sound of a rolling backpack echoed off of the concrete behind them. The little boy looked up at Casey first, a shy smile appearing on his lips and then a pair of large, brown eyes- so devastatingly familiar- met Gabby’s. Louie. The pair looked up from the little boy, cautiously eyeing the social worker. A thousand questions raced through both of their minds; was this a joke? Had something happened to Louie’s father? Had something happened to Louie? God forbid.“He couldn’t handle it,” Tina said, answering their unspoken question, “Yesterday evening, Andre came to me and told me that he couldn’t raise him.”“What? Why?” Casey asked, taking the opportunity to reach out and pull the little boy into his arms. Louie immediately settled, completely content with the only real father he’d ever known.The social worker shook her head, “I don’t know. Sometimes people, even biological parents, change their minds.”“This isn’t...a joke,” Gabby said, trying to blink back the not-so-subtle tears that had formed in the corners of her eyes. She glanced at her husband and their “almost” son.“No. Mr. Keyes signed away his rights last night, placing Louie with an emergency family until I could contact the both of you. He didn’t leave specific reasoning other than he’d made a mistake that wasn’t fair to Louie, and then he was gone.”“And that’s it? What about his family?”“We can contact them if you’d like, or you can do it yourself, but Andre left specific instructions to place the boy in your care- said that he cried for you every night and that his parents shouldn’t be left with the burden of raising another child when two loving people wanted to give him a family.”Gabby couldn’t help the tears falling from her eyes as she looked at Louie- her son- and reached to take him out of Matt’s arms, “So, you’re saying he’s ours?”“Not yet, not legally. But someone from the State’s Attorney’s office agreed to meet with you this afternoon, seeing as you’d like to go through with the adoption?”“Of course,” they said in sync.“Okay, then. I have to go now but we’ll go over the rest of the paperwork this afternoon and get the process started again; it will take some time and most likely some configuration with the Keyes family- the may want visitation- but seeing as Louie’s biological father requested that he be left with you, the process should go smoothly. You’re married now with stable, albeit risky, careers and have the opportunity to provide him with a loving home. You’re the perfect candidates for his adoption. It’s not a done deal, but it will be.”As Tina walked away, Casey let out a sigh of relief and Dawson turned into his arms, Louie crushed between them. She couldn’t help the tears that flowed down her face and the sobs that washed over her, healing a piece of what had felt so broken.This could either be an easy road or yet another one full of obstacles, but with Louie in her arms muttering “Mommy, Daddy, I’m squished”, Gabriela Dawson couldn’t bring herself to worry.
10059026	Check Yourself Out	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by caitydestroyz", "chapters": "1/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-20T00:00:00", "words": "2,101", "Additional Tags": "Self-Insert, Romance, Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, POV First Person, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Age Difference, Teacher!Negan", "Relationship": null, "Character": "Negan (Walking Dead)", "Relationships": "Negan (Walking Dead)/Original Female Character(s), Negan/Caity G. (caitydestroyz)", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead & 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 }	Beep. Beep. Beep. It's a Thursday night at…9:27pm. By this time, I've already closed down two machines at self-checkout. That's my life - as of currently. Standing at my small station, my feet glued to the non-slip mat as items were continuously scanned within the establishment. Glancing to and fro from the two screens in front of me, there was only one customer - well, two people buying one carton of gelato or whatever frozen product to snack on. But, now they're just standing there. At the payment screen, staring between the pin pad and the main monitor. They're going to look at me, I just know it. Happens every goddamn time. Three. Two. One. Shit, they're still just standing there. Didn't even bother to look at me. Taking short yet quickened steps, I headed over to them. Only then, did they look at me. The boyfriend jutted a finger towards the pin pad, a look of confusion and impatience intermingling in his features as he looked to me. “It's says it's waiting for the cashier.” “You're the cashier, sir. You have to click,” I pointed a finger towards the middle option at the top of the screen to further explain my instruction. “Pay with card so it can alert the pinpad.” I tapped the pin pad lightly, soon turning on my heel just as the man clicked the option. Now, see. I've been doing this shit for a good year and half. And let me tell you, it's the same, droning pattern - every single day, every single night. It never changes. Ever. Yet, the customers never fail to amaze me. Some know what they're doing, others don't. And the ones that do, I fucking praise them. Of course, to myself. I'd sound like a goddamn idiot praising an old person for being far more knowledgeable on how to pay for their groceries with their card than someone my own age. And I'm 20. To me, that says a lot. Nevertheless, the ones that know self-checkout like the back of their hands are godsends, and the ones that just ruin the flow just makes the shift a little more agitating. But, that's just how jobs work, I guess. Stress comes in all shapes and sizes. Majority of the time, they're disgruntled customers ranging from the middle-aged to the elderly that get on my goddamn nerves. Pardon my French. Anyway, they paid for their frozen treat and left up the main path since I had already locked up the exit doors behind me. Speaking of which, the main path - commonly known as our front-end - is pretty vacant, at the moment. There are one or two registers with customers bagging their stuff, loading up their carts. Looks like there's some small talk exchanged up there. Which gives tonight a rather vapid mood. Normally, it's dead on Thursdays. Always is. Since there are only 4 or 5 registers open that are as far away as you can possibly imagine (I'm over exaggerating. Bite me.), there's no one to really chat with. So, like every shift I have down here, always includes my trusty Bluetooth headset to jam out to. With one earbud in my most dominant ear hidden behind black waves of hair, I was mildly content. Up and down the aisles, there were at least one or two customers wheeling around with their shopping carts, either filled to the brim with shit that should last them the month or just starting off with their shopping lists. Either way, I hope they take their orders to the regular registers. Had enough bullshit to deal with within the shift I picked up from a friend. See, the fun part about waiting to close up shop is doing a final cleaning of the registers and bagging them up with the store’s logo-printed bags. The not-so-fun part is the waiting. Normally, I'd close up by every ten to fifteen minute intervals. But since there are no customers in sight, I left my station to take a gander around the registers. Sometimes, there would be items strewn across the free shelf attached to the side of the machine. Whether it be one lone avocado or a package of q-tips, they'd find shelter in my red basket of returns. And just as I was about to pass the middle machine, there stood a tall yet stocky gentleman. On the bridge of his nose was a pair of black frames, complementing the man's very features. Salt and pepper beard; nicely trimmed. Black hair slightly disheveled, the fluorescent high bay lights giving way to several grey strands. He looked like he had a rough day, by the few buttons of his dark grey dress shirt undone underneath his black vest. And my, was he fucking gorgeous . Like, hello, daddy. He remained immobile on his feet as I walked past him. I collected some of the baskets underneath the free shelves on the side machines, returning them to the stack I had in front of my station. I looked over my shoulder, and the guy was still standing there. Hands in his pockets, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Well, if he isn't gonna do anything. Taking small strides towards him, I put on my best customer-service smile along with the matching tone. It was as genuine as it could get. Not too sweet, but just enough to be cordial and accommodating. “You need help, sir?” I asked. “Huh?” He looked at me, being caught in a daze. “Uh, shit. Sorry, miss. I, uh, I was daydreaming.” He chuckled, fixing his glasses so they sat closer to his eyes. “That's alright. Don't worry about it. Did y-do you know how to use the machines?” An incredulous expression made its way to his face as he waved me off. “Oh, yeah! Yeah, yeah I know how to use these. Just click Start, right?” “Yep, you got it.” I smiled at him, the reciprocating expression making me weak at the knees. Making me all hot and bothered, goddammit. The dimples, man. The toothy smile. And the way his hair stuck out in odd places - I'm a sucker for that shit, bite me. Welp. I'm totally fucked up the ass. As I was about to turn back, the man requested that I show him where all the bakery products were located, along with some several produce items. Frankly enough, he didn't have any of those items. His only purchase for the night was a bag of chips and a gallon of water. At least he isn't creepy. His company wasn't as awkward as most customers I've had. And that's a story for another day. And just like the couple before him, once he had scanned all of his items, he pulled out his phone to either use the android or apple pay on his device, holding it up against the pin pad - and did just as the boyfriend did. He stands there, brows furrowing in confusion as to why he wasn't finished with his order. I had hope in you, daddy. I really did. Come on! Okay, so if anyone ever stood beside me, or was at a close distance and actually watched me, one would've thought I was weird as shit. I would be tapping at my own screen, knowing the ghost path of where the pay with card option would be on the monitor. I'd be whispering You got this! Come on, come on, come on! Just click pay with card! And if they know what to do, I'd applaud them. Of course, just the mere taps of my hands together before settling them on the counter. Most of the time, it's a 50/50 chance. With this guy, I might just blow a blood vessel. And just like the couple before him, I walked over, and that's when he looked my way. “It says it's waiting for you, sweetheart.” “No, you're the cashier, sir. Just click pay with card right here, and then it'll process for ya.” No sarcasm nor a snarky remark, just a pull in the right direction. Had to add the professional smile. It wasn't like he was giving me a hard time, anyway. “Oh. Heh, sorry.” There was that toothy grin. Goddammit, man. That deep, molasses-thick voice, Jesus. Just stop talking, or I might just let you nail me - right here, right now. “No worries, sir. Happens all the time.” As his transaction processed and printed onto a receipt, the sound of the plastic bag crinkling in the distance was so normal that I didn't even realize he was standing by my podium in a blink of an eye. “Everything all right, sir?” His groceries were tossed over his shoulder in one bag as he held the handle firmly enough so it wouldn't slide off the junction. I remember catching a glimpse of him when he double bagged it, which was a relief. These bags weren't trustworthy in the slightest. If these bags ever had the chance to rip at any given moment, they would - and there would either be broken glass or a blueberry spill. Either one, I'd wholeheartedly live without. “Yeah, um..Just wanted to apologize for bothering you, if I did.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, eliciting a chuckle. “Oh, no. Never a bother. That's what I'm here for - to help everyone out; where they need it and so forth. Always here to help.” “That's actually good to hear. Not a lot of people are upfront about it.” “Ehh, it's probably modesty. Or they're just tired. I'm the latter, to be honest.” “You?” he eyed from head to toe, smirking. “You're young, sweetheart. But, you got a job. Not too mention a retail job. So, I'll let it slide. Retail is unrelenting on their employees. I know, I was in your shoes, once. Bet you're making more money than I did back then.” He leaned up against the wall nearest me, his bag still slung over his shoulder. “You're definitely not wrong about that. Can't imagine making three dollars an hour. I would die." I chuckled, knowing full well I couldn't live off of a paycheck that would also include the Union dues; the strike dues can go fuck themselves, honestly."Pfft, you're too kind with that minimum wage. But, I'll take it over the two to two and a half bucks I made per hour when I was about your age." At least this guy is good company. I just wish I wasn't some blushing, little bitch in front of a potential daddy. His eyes widened, an astonished expression painting his features as he couldn't suppress the chuckle that escaped him. I'm wholly glad he found whatever bullshit amusing, because I sure as fuck don't think so. Wait a minute. Wait a goddamn minute. Did I fucking say that shit out loud!? I'm supposed to be professional, dammit! Not calling hot fucks like this fucker over here a potential daddy. Where the fuck did my dignity blast off to? Someone please shoot me. Please. Hear my pleas as I wished to be motherfucking cleansed for this shit. "Um...what was that you said, sweetheart?" His voice was jilted with humor, which I, clearly, did not find fucking funny. This shit is embarrassing, fuck. "Uh...umm..look at the time! Gotta close up shop before my boss rails on me. Hehe..Don't wanna hold you up from wherever you gotta go...sir." Nailed it. Fucking nailed it. Everyone go the fuck home, I nailed this shit to the door and even put a pretty, pink bow on it. Even bells, too. Nailed it. Thankfully, there are two ways of leaving my post. And, in which, one of those said ways was blocked off by this man - who I really, really hope won't report me for sexual harassment.That does count for sexual harassment...right? Altogether, everyone. Right. "Listen," I added, hoping to clear the air before this shit gets even worse - for my own sake. "I apologize for any crude or unruly words I said just now. I'm running off four hours of sleep, which isn't an excuse. But, that's all I've got to show for myself. Again, I apologize if I made you uncomfortable in any way; shape or form." Well, he doesn't seem..offended, if that's the proper word. He hasn't made any abrupt accusations or a rash report against me. He seems..interested? "I want you to say it, again. A bit louder, this time." Huh. Well, then. My night just got interesting.
10084754	Duty	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Star Wars - All Media Types", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by ArgentGale", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-05T00:00:00", "words": "2,090", "Additional Tags": "Teasing, Thrawn learns a lesson, Blow Job, delayed gratification, cock teasing, Deep kissing, Grinding", "Relationship": "Thrawn \| Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Reader", "Character": "Thrawn \| Mitth'raw'nuruodo", "Relationships": null, "Series": "Alien Relations 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 }	Imperial March Prompts Day 3 : An Assignment Resented/I hate that backwater planet “I hate that backwater planet.” You try to keep your voice level. Smooth and under control with no hint of hysteria or the anger you feel roiling up from your guts. But it is hard.This is hard.You knew when you got involved that it would be difficult. Loving him would be difficult. Duty would always supersede any emotion. You knew what you were getting yourself into, you chide to yourself.Still, it is difficult. Thrawn’s voice is low and even but you can tell he is on edge. His posture is exceptionally rigid and his jaw set. To those not quite as familiar with his mannerisms and inflections his voice would seem perfectly normal. Smooth, cool, and in control. However, you can detect the slight edge to it. A keen knife hidden underneath the velvet cadence. “You understand your duty…MY duty…our service to the Empire supersedes all else.” He refuses to even look at you, instead choosing to stare out the viewport, with his hands firmly clasped behind his back. A flash of anger clenches our chest and you sniff, “Well. I shouldn’t be surprised. Your people are known to be a cold and rather unfeeling race. Expressing emotions aren’t exactly your strong point.” Now this may have been true in regards to the Chiss in general, but you knew that was a lie where Thrawn was concerned. You knew how he felt. He knew how he felt. That was the problem.It was a low blow and it worked.Thrawn whirled from the view port to face you, his eyes flaring in anger.Perhaps it worked a bit too well.“Feelings have nothing to do with this. I know you hate Trine but you won’t be there that long.”Through clenched teeth your voice hisses, “Are you certain? Do you have a timetable? Because last time I checked there was no set time on how a mission could go. Yes, it could be a few weeks. Or it could be months. Or…if things go really bad…It could be forever.” You pause a heartbeat before bitterly continuing, “But I suppose that is how it goes.”You don’t like the heat rising to your cheeks and the slight tremble in your voice. You always took pride in being able to maintain self-control but even you have your limits.And then it hits you. Limits. That was it. Perhaps Thrawn needed a little lesson in duty…and limits.You straighten your posture so you are standing at your full height and boldly meet Thrawn’s gaze. With a new found resolve you voice is controlled and clipped. “Very well Admiral, if you feel I am the best to go to Trine and snuff out this little spark of resistance before it can flare up into something more problematic then so be it. I accept your decision and I will perform my duties to the very best of my abilities…to serve the Empire.”Thrawn’s expression is one as if you had just slapped him hard across the face. He arches an eyebrow, obviously momentarily thrown by your sudden formality and acceptance of these circumstances.“Very good <name>. I knew you would understand.” His voice has softened and your heart about breaks but you forge on with your plan.Swallowing hard you make your way over to him and as he moves to embrace you, you splay your hands on his chest. In doing so you can feel his heart hammering underneath the thick fabric. He is more upset than he is letting on, which will make this all the more fun.Pressing him away you tilt your face up to his and murmur, “Sir, if we are to be separated for who knows how long, perhaps it would be best if you…condition yourself.”Thrawn’s eyebrow once more arches quizzically. “Condition myself? Whatever do you mean?”“Well, as I said before it will most certainly be weeks and quite possibly months before you will be able to enjoy my company. Touch me. I think it may be a good idea to start preparing yourself for this reality.”You rub your palms gently up and down his chest and notice with an inward smile that his breath hitches just the slightest bit.“Oh really? While I am certain it will be difficult, I am sure I will be fine.”With an innocent smile you turn him about and guide him to his command chair. His lips quirk into a half smile and you know he is indulging you in this little game. As the backs of his legs hit the chair you push him, forcing him to sit.“Well then this exercise shall be an easy one and you should be able to control yourself with no problem.”You then lean down to murmur in his ear, “I am going to do some things. Some things you like. And you will not be permitted to touch me. If you do, I am going to leave. And I am going to board my ship tomorrow morning. And you will not touch me again for stars knows how long. Or…if you control yourself, after my little test is complete I shall accompany you to your quarters. And you may touch me as much as you wish. Over and over.”You then give his earlobe a teasing little nip. You are pleased to see him shiver. It is almost imperceptible but it is there.Good.You have his attention.Gently you take his hands in yours…those smooth elegant hands that know exactly where to touch and caress and tease…and firmly place them upon the armrests of his chair.You allow your fingertips to lightly caress the tops of them as you continue. “Now then. I want you to keep your hands on those armrests. I strongly suggest you hold on tight. The moment a hand leaves the armrest, for any reason, the exercise is complete…and you have lost.”“I won’t lose.”His voice is barely above a whisper and it seems rather strained.His tongue darts out and slowly licks his lower lip.This was going to be easier than you thought.You place your hands flat on his chest as you ease into his lap, so solid and warm and familiar, and settle yourself squarely, the balls of your feet lightly touching the floor for balance. “Now then,” you murmur. “Where shall we begin? What shall we focus on to prepare you for all that you will miss?” Your voice lilts with exaggerated concern.You lean forward and gently nuzzle his neck, breathing in his scent. Your voice husks, “Will you miss… this the most?” You press your lips to his hot flesh and murmur softly as you kiss the column of his neck.To his credit, Thrawn stays stock still, palms flat on the armrests.His voice rumbles softly, “I suppose I will miss that, yes.”You give his neck a gentle nip before once more sitting upright.Thrawn’s face is slightly flushed and his lips are parted.“Hmmm…yes indeed you will miss that but there must surely be something else.” You brighten. “I know.” With a wicked grin you unfasten the catch of his tunic and ease it open revealing the black regulation tank top and the silver glint of his dog tags. They clink with a soft music as you gather up the length of chain and pull gently.He gives a very soft hiss.With a coy smile you slip an exploratory hand underneath the fabric, to touch the quivering flesh underneath.“This? Will you miss this, Admiral?” He does not answer immediately and you see his throat working as he swallows. Your hand continues to laze under the soft fabric, gently glancing over taunt, hot flesh. Your fingers accidently graze across his nipple, and at that he draws a harsh breath.“Ah,” you murmur in triumph, grasping the nipple tight between forefinger and thumb and begin to gently roll and squeeze the pebbled flesh.You cast a quick look at his hands to make sure he is following the rules and see now they are gripping the armrests like a vice.You then give the captive nipple a final hard pinch.At that he bucks his hips and mutters a soft curse.“Oh I think we found something you shall miss, yes?”Thrawn nods, ever so slightly. “Y...yes. Perhaps.”He is trying very hard to keep his face neutral, to not give any hints at just how much these teasing touches are affecting him.He is not very successful.You are very aware of his desire insistently prodding you. You level a sly look as you begin to grind your hips in a lazy circle, grinding right on his erection.Now that manages to coax a soft moan from him.“Why...Admiral whatever is the matter?” You increase pressure and pace.Of course, all of this teasing begins to awaken your desire. This little game of delayed gratification is rather arousing and if Thrawn can maintain himself the reward will be great.You dip down to capture his mouth with yours, and revel in his soft moan as you slip your tongue past his lips. You tease, using your tongue to explore his mouth before withdrawing. You suckle upon his lower lip before breaking the kiss and once again sitting upright.His hands remain upon the armrests but his arms have begun to tremble.“Hmmm…what else will my Admiral miss? Or should I say NOT miss? Since he is the epitome of control.”You brush your hand down his chest, down his taunt stomach, to stop and hover at the waistband of his trousers.“P…please.” That is the only word he utters: Please. “I am sorry, Sir. I didn’t quite catch that. Please…what? Do you wish me to stop, Sir?”“N...no but…I...” His voice trails off weakly.“You what?”You then unfasten his trousers with little difficulty and free his cock from its cloth prison.Tracing a fingertip slowly up its length you murmur, “Will you miss this, Sir? Me touching you like this? Or no? Will you be able to just forget about it?” You then softly close your fist and begin to gently stroke.The idea that comes next is pure cruelty.You pause your caress, and shift, easing down between his legs so now you are face to face with his very hard, very wanting cock.“Oh…no…you wouldn’t do…that.”Your eyes are all innocence as you look up at him. He has now effectively come undone with lips parted and chest heaving as he drew panting breaths. Body trembling.And yet those hands were exactly where you told him to keep them.“But if you do not care and will not miss it what is the harm, Sir?”You offer a sweet smile, kissing the engorged cockhead, before slipping his length fully into your mouth. You allow your tongue to laze and caress the shaft as you draw him deep. You offer a soft moan, knowing the vibrations only enhance his pleasure. The only sound that can be heard is the hiss of his breath being drawn through gritted teeth.Of course you know full well you can’t keep this up. This is just a bit of a preview. You don’t like being a tease but he forced your hand.Allowing his length to slide from your lips, you give his beautiful cock one more teasing kiss and then situate yourself once more on his lap.“Now then, Sir. I think I have come to the conclusion that you will, indeed, miss my touch. Correct?”He nods.“I am sorry. I didn’t hear you.”“Yes. S…stars yes.”You nuzzle his neck and murmur, “You have done very well. That is all I wanted to hear. For you to say those words.” You once more claim his mouth. As far as you are concerned this little exercise has come to a successful end. As you break the kiss with a soft moan, you find your own voice strained as you whisper, “See? One can hold a dual allegiance. Now then why don’t we go back to your quarters and work on…shall we say…desensitizing ourselves for the weeks ahead?”It was only then that his hands finally left the armrests to hold you fast.
10061474	Midday Meeting	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Xena, Gabrielle, Ares, Lila (Xena), Perdicus", "Fandom": "Xena: Warrior Princess", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by CatarinaElibeth (BattlingBard)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-03T00:00:00", "words": "6,816", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Gabrielle/Xena", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Xena Reboot - Season One", "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 }	TEASER FADE IN: EXT. POTEIDAIA OUTER MARKETPLACE - MIDDAY (DAY 1) MANY PEOPLE ARE GATHERED AT THE ENTRANCE TO THE MAIN CENTER OF POTEIDAIA. THE AREA IS FULL OF WORRIED TALK AND SHOUTS FROM VILLAGERS. IN THE CENTER OF THE FOCUS OF THE PEOPLE, THERE ARE THREE PEOPLE, TWO ELDERLY WOMEN AND AN ELDERLY MAN. BEHIND THEM, THERE ARE TWO EXHAUSTED HORSES. SEVERAL MEMBERS OF THE CITY GUARD ARE ATTEMPTING TO CONTROL THE CROWD, AND GAIN THE ATTENTION OF THE ELDERLY TRAVELERS. ONE OF THE CITY SOLDIERS IS STANDING IN FRONT OF THE ELDERLY MAN. CITY SOLDIER You can’t mean to tell me they are all gone. There were at least two score soldiers there. ELDERLY MAN Aye, that there were. Damn near middle of the night, they came. THE WOMAN THAT WAS RIDING ON HIS HORSE STEPS UP CLOSER. ELDERLY WOMAN #1 By the time we got out to see what the shouts were about, there were raiders everyone. CITY SOLDIER Raiders? You saying some band of unruly raiders attacked the entire force? ELDERLY MAN No, t’weren’t just raiders. THE PEOPLE NEARBY SHIFT CLOSER, AND GROW QUIETER. CITY SOLDIER Denius! ONE OF THE NEARBY CITY SOLDIERS STEPS FORWARD FROM THE CROWD. DENIUS Aye? CITY SOLDIER Go on, and get Captain Felts. (PAUSE) He’ll probably want to talk to Archon Blesby. And these people. WITH A QUICK SALUTE, DENIUS TURNS, AND PUSHES HIS WAY BETWEEN THE CROWDS OF PEOPLE. THE CITY SOLDIER TURNS BACK TO THE ELDERLY MAN. ELDERLY WOMAN #2 We’re all that’s left. ELDERLY MAN Aye, didn’t even think they’d let us leave. T’was a man there hollering at the lot o’ them to kill all that moves. ELDERLY WOMAN #1 S’true. We was lucky enough the plow horses were out by the way we took off. Rode all night, we did. CITY SOLDIER Did you see anything useful? Anything t’would tell us who they are? The man, the leader? Can you tell me anything about him? ELDERLY MAN T’wasn’t the leader. CITY SOLDIER What? ELDERLY MAN No. Wasn’t him. We didn’t see. Only heard her. CITY SOLDIER Her? You saying they are led by a woman? ELDERLY MAN Aye. ELDERLY WOMAN #2 Not just any woman, I’m afraid. Heard of this one, I have. I used to live further north of here. Knew that name quite well, I did. CITY SOLDIER What name, woman? ELDERLY WOMAN #2 Xena. CUT TO: MAIN TITLES ACT ONE BEGIN FLASHBACK: FADE IN: EXT. AMPHIPOLIS - MIDDAY (12 YEARS AGO) AMPHIPOLIS IS A VILLAGE NORTH OF POTEIDAIA. THE OUTER PART OF AMPHIPOLIS IS MADE OF FARMING FIELDS. WOMEN ARE SINGING A WORKING SONG IN GREEK, AS THEY TEND TO THE HARVEST. PAST THE FIELDS, THE MAIN PART OF THE VILLAGE SITS. ALONG THE ROAD GOING THROUGH THE TOWN, BUILDINGS STAND. THE SOUNDS OF SWORDS CLASHING, WOOD HITTING WOOD, AND BATTLE CAN BE HEARD. PAST THE LARGE BUILDING THAT MAKES UP THE INN, A GROUP OF VILLAGERS ARE TEAMED UP, PRACTICING WITH STAVES AND SWORDS. MANY OF THE PEOPLE ARE YOUNG, 12-18 YEARS OLD. THERE IS A MIX OF BOYS AND GIRLS, BUT THEY ARE MOSTLY BOYS. A FEW OF THEM ARE WEARING HOMEMADE ARMOR, BUT MANY ARE IN THE CLOTHES OF VILLAGERS. ONLY A FEW ARE CARRYING ROUGHLY MADE SWORDS. IN THE CENTER OF THE GROUP, TWO YOUNG BROTHERS (11-YEAR-OLD LYCEUS AND 16-YEAR-OLD TORIS) ARE DRILLING WITH SWORDS. AS THEIR SWORDS BEGIN MOVING FASTER, THE SURROUNDING VILLAGERS BEGIN TO STOP THEIR OWN PRACTICING TO WATCH THE TWO BROTHERS WITH SWORDS. TORIS TRIPS OVER A SMALL ROCK, AND LYCEUS USES THE OPENING TO KNOCK TORIS’ SWORD OUT OF HIS HANDS TO GO FLYING TO THE SIDE. WHEN THE SWORD LANDS ON THE GROUND, A FEW OF THE SURROUNDING VILLAGERS CHEER. A WHISTLE IS HEARD FROM BEHIND THE GROUP, AND EVERYONE TURNS TO LOOK. A 13-YEAR-OLD XENA COMES WALKING UP, WEARING HOMEMADE ARMOR, AND A SHORT SWORD AT HER HIP. XENA Toris! What was that? TORIS TURNS TOWARD HIS SISTER WITH HIS HANDS ON HIS HIPS. TORIS What does it look like, Xena? I tripped! LYCEUS SHEATHS HIS SWORD, AND WALKS OVER TO XENA. XENA If that was Cortese, and not Lyceus, you would be dead! LYCEUS Go easy on him, Xe. XENA We can’t afford to go easy on anyone. (LOOKING AT TORIS) Brothers or not. XENA LOOKS OUT AT ALL OF THE VILLAGERS AROUND HER. Listen! Cortese and his men are strong. They’re ruthless. THE VILLAGERS SHIFT A LITTLE. TORIS Xena, we should be taking everyone somewhere safer. LYCEUS BEGINS TO STEP TOWARD TORIS, BUT XENA HOLDS UP A HAND TO STOP HIM. XENA If you’re too scared (PAUSE) big brother, then you can go. XENA MAKES A SHOW OF TURNING AWAY FROM TORIS TO LOOK AT EVERYONE ELSE AROUND HER. This is our home! You agreed to stand with me, remember? LYCEUS Xena’s right! XENA Who’s with me? THE MEN HOLD UP THEIR WEAPONS AND SHOUT. TORIS LOOKS AROUND AT THE MEN. HE WALKS OVER TO HIS SWORD ON THE GROUND, AND PICKS IT UP. LOOKING DIRECTLY AT XENA, HE SHEATHS THE SWORD AT HIS HIP, AND WALKS OFF. LYCEUS What about Tor? XENA Let him be. LYCEUS But Xena, he’s family. XENA I’m doing this to save the family. LYCEUS Do you really think we stand a chance against Cortese? XENA This is my home, Ly. I’m going to defend my home. DISSOLVE TO: INT. AMPHIPOLIS INN - MIDDAY (12 YEARS AGO) A WOMAN, CYRENE, STANDS WITH HER ARMS CROSSED. SHE IS THE MOTHER OF XENA, LYCEUS, AND TORIS. ACROSS FROM THE TABLE, TORIS IS STANDING, AND SPEAKING WHILE MAKING ANGRY MOVEMENTS WITH HIS HANDS. THREE ELDERS ARE SITTING AT THE TABLE. TORIS Mother! We should be escaping! CYRENE Toris, this is what the town has agreed upon. (PAUSE) I’m tired of everything being taken from us. TORIS This is madness! She can’t possibly lead us in a defense! Not against a warlord! She’s 13! CYRENE You know as well as I do, there’s no changing your sister’s mind. ONE OF THE ELDERS, WARREN (THE TOWN REVEE), STANDS UP. WARREN Young Toris, what other choice do we have? TORIS We could run! WARREN We’ve got nowhere to go. Xena fought off the last raiding party with her little group. Why are you in such doubt? TORIS This is madness! THE SOUND OF THE DOOR SLAMMING OPEN COMES FROM BEHIND THEM. THEY TURN TO SEE XENA WALKING IN, FOLLOWED BY LYCEUS. TORIS SHAKES HIS HEAD, AND STORMS OUT TOWARD THE KITCHEN. XENA Mother, was he in here whining again? WARREN Cyrene, we will meet later. THE ELDERS STAND UP, AND LEAVE THROUGH THE FRONT DOOR. CYRENE GIVES HER DAUGHTER A DIRECT LOOK. CYRENE And hello to you, too. XENA Mother, we need - CYRENE Ah-ah. Sit. Both of you. XENA Mother, I don’t have - CYRENE Yes, you do. Set a good example for Lyceus. Sit. LYCEUS LOOKS AT BOTH WOMEN, BEFORE SITTING DOWN. CYRENE RAISES HER EYEBROWS AT XENA, CROSSING HER ARMS. SHE CONTINUES TO STARE AT XENA, UNTIL SHE SITS DOWN NEXT TO HER BROTHER WITH AN ANNOYED SIGH. CYRENE DOES A QUICK NOD, AND TURNS TOWARD THE KITCHEN. LYCEUS What are we going to do about Toris? XENA I told you, don’t worry. CYRENE RETURNS WITH TWO PLATES OF FOOD. SHE SETS EACH DOWN IN FRONT OF HER CHILDREN, BEFORE SITTING ACROSS FROM THEM. LYCEUS BEGINS EATING RIGHT AWAY. CYRENE LOOKS XENA IN THE EYE, THEN AT THE PLATE IN FRONT OF HER, AND BACK UP TO XENA’S EYES. XENA BEGINS EATING. CYRENE Now, why are you fighting with Toris this time? END FLASHBACK DISSOLVE TO: INT. POTEIDAIA INN - MIDDAY (DAY 1) XENA AND GABRIELLE ARE STANDING ON OPPOSITE SIDES OF THE TABLE AT THE BACK OF THE DINING ROOM IN THE INN. GABRIELLE IS ON THE SIDE OF THE TABLE CLOSEST TO THE FRONT DOOR. BOTH WOMEN ARE FACING THE FRONT OF THE INN, WHERE SHOUTS CAN BE HEARD OUTSIDE. GABRIELLE TURNS BACK TO LOOK AT XENA. GABRIELLE Do you think - XENA Some other time. XENA TURNS TO THE BACK HALLWAY, AND DISAPPEARS BEFORE GABRIELLE CAN RESPOND. GABRIELLE SHAKES HER HEAD, AND BEGINS TO WALK AFTER XENA. ELEST COMES FROM THE KITCHEN, AND SEES HER. ELEST You there. GABRIELLE STOPS AT THE ENTRANCE TO THE HALLWAY, AND LOOKS OVER AT ELEST. Only guests allowed back there. ELEST PUTS HER HANDS ON HER HIPS, AND STARES AT GABRIELLE. GABRIELLE My friend went back there. I’m just going to um… GABRIELLE LOOKS DOWN THE EMPTY HALLWAY. ELEST STARES AT GABRIELLE. GABRIELLE LOOKS AROUND, AND THEN BACK AT ELEST. I think - ELEST You should go. GABRIELLE OPENS HER MOUTH TO PROTEST, BUT IS INTERRUPTED BY THE KITCHEN DOOR SLAMMING OPEN. THE INNKEEPER WALKS OUT OF THE KITCHEN. INNKEEPER Elest, damn ye, woman. What is all this shouting? THE INNKEEPER LOOKS OVER AT GABRIELLE. Who are ye? You staying here? GABRIELLE Oh...I...sorry, no. I’m uh - INNKEEPER No matter. Elest, close us down, while I go find what all the fuss is on, yeah? Be back in two candlemarks. ELEST LOOKS AT GABRIELLE. ELEST Will do. GABRIELLE LOOKS BACK AND FORTH AT THE INNKEEPER AND ELEST. WITH A DEEP BREATH, SHE TURNS TO LEAVE. CUT TO: INT. POTEIDAIA MEETING HALL - MIDDAY (DAY 1) THE MEETING HALL IS ONE BIG ROOM WITH LONG TABLES AND BENCHES PARALLEL WITH EACH OTHER. A SMALLER HEAD TABLE IS PERPENDICULAR TO THE LONG TABLES AT THE BACK OF THE ROOM. THE HEAD TABLE HAS FOUR CHAIRS BEHIND IT. THE THREE ELDERLY PEOPLE FROM THE OVERTAKEN VILLAGE ARE SITTING TOGETHER AT ONE OF THE TABLES. A FEW OF THE CITY SOLDIERS ARE STANDING AROUND THEM, WHILE VILLAGERS ARE GATHERED AROUND AT THE SURROUNDING TABLES. PEOPLE ARE TALKING AROUND THEM. XENA’S NAME IS HEARD AMONGST THE TALKING. MORE PEOPLE ENTER THE MEETING HALL - INCLUDING THE INNKEEPER. THE BACK DOOR BEHIND THE HEAD TABLE OPENS, AND HEADS TURN THAT WAY. VOICES DIE DOWN, AS ARCHON BLESBY, THE GUARD CAPTAIN, AND ANOTHER CITY SOLDIER WALK IN THE BACK DOOR. ARCHON BLESBY WALKS STRAIGHT TO THE ONE OF THE CHAIRS AT THE HEAD TABLE. HE LOOKS QUICKLY OUT AT GATHERED VILLAGERS BEFORE SITTING DOWN. THE GUARD CAPTAIN WALKS UP TO THE CHAIR NEXT TO THE ARCHON, AND SITS DOWN AS WELL. THE CITY SOLDIER TAKES UP A POSITION BEHIND THE TABLE. THE VILLAGERS TAKE SEATS ON THE LONG BENCHES AROUND THE LONG TABLES. ALL TALKING DIES DOWN. ARCHON BLESBY So, I hear there’s been some trouble outside of our borders. A FEW WHISPERS ARE HEARD. Where are the refugees? THE ELDERLY MAN STANDS UP. ELDERLY MAN Aye, Archon Blesby. We be all that’s left. ARCHON BLESBY Interesting. GUARD CAPTAIN Not a single soldier? ELDERLY MAN Not a one. ARCHON BLESBY (HALF INTERESTED) What a waste. GUARD CAPTAIN What information can you give us about the raiders? ARCHON BLESBY Captain, surely there is no information of use. Poteidaia is fine, I’m sure. GUARD CAPTAIN Perhaps, but surely they must have seen something. ELDERLY MAN S’true we left with haste, but we do believe we know it’s not just raiders. THE ELDERLY MAN LOOKS TO THE SECOND ELDERLY WOMAN. SHE LOOKS BACK UP AT HIM, BUT REMAINS SITTING. ELDERLY WOMAN #2 Aye, my lord. I moved down here from the north. Left with a group running from the warlord up there. GUARD CAPTAIN Are you saying this is an army? ELDERLY WOMAN #2 Led by Xena of Corinth. ARCHON BLESBY The Warrior Princess? ELDERLY WOMAN #2 Aye. WHISPERS GO UP AROUND THE ROOM. UNSEEN, THE FRONT DOOR OPENS, AND XENA, WEARING A RED DRESS, SLIPS INTO THE BUILDING. SHE LEANS AGAINST THE WALL. VILLAGER #1 We have to do something! VILLAGER #2 Isn’t she the pirate? VILLAGER #3 Aye! Poseidon’s Bane! VILLAGER #4 She killed Hercules! VILLAGER #5 If she comes here, we have no chance! VILLAGER #6 We should run! XENA CROSSES HER ARMS, AS SHE CONTINUES TO LEAN AGAINST THE WALL. DISSOLVE TO: BEGIN FLASHBACK: INT. AMPHIPOLIS INN - MIDDAY (12 YEARS AGO) THE ELDERS AND WARREN ARE SITTING AT A TABLE NEAR THE BAR. VILLAGERS ARE SITTING OR STANDING AROUND THE INN DINING ROOM. MANY PEOPLE ARE SPLIT INTO GROUPS ARGUING ABOUT THE INCOMING CORTESE ARMY. MANY OF THE PEOPLE ARE IN FAVOR OF FIGHTING CORTESE, BUT ARE ANXIOUS ABOUT WHEN HE’S COMING. TORIS AND CYRENE ARE ARGUING BEHIND THE NEARBY BAR. XENA IS LEANING AGAINST THE BACK WALL WATCHING EVERYONE. LYCEUS IS SITTING AT THE TABLE CLOSEST TO HER, HEAD DARTING AROUND TO LOOK AT THE DIFFERENT GROUPS. TWO VILLAGERS ARE STANDING IN FRONT OF THE ELDERS AND WARREN IN A HEATED DISCUSSION. VILLAGER #1 Are we sure this is the right choice? VILLAGER #2 We are putting our home into the hands of a child! ELDER #1 Do you have a better idea? VILLAGER #1 My sons are apparently ready to just follow her anywhere. WARREN So is my son. (PAUSE) Listen, I have never seen this many of us banded together for a common good. VILLAGER #2 But Warren - WARREN You seem to be forgetting Amphipolis has voted already. The town was in favor of this. VILLAGER #1 We just want to be sure. XENA’S EYES NARROW, AS SHE WATCHES THE CONVERSATION WITH THE ELDERS. CUT TO: ACT TWO FADE IN: INT. AMPHIPOLIS - CONTINUOUS LYCEUS Xena, should I go check on the outposts? XENA No. This meeting is over. LYCEUS LOOKS AT XENA WITH A QUESTIONING EXPRESSION. FOR AN ANSWER, XENA PUSHES HERSELF OFF THE WALL, AND WALKS PAST LYCEUS TO THE TABLE WITH THE ELDERS. SINCE SHE IS WALKING UP FROM BEHIND THE ELDERS, THEY DO NOT SEE HER. THE TWO VILLAGERS SEE HER COMING, AND STAND UP STRAIGHTER AS THEY STOP TALKING. THE ELDERS LOOK OVER THEIR SHOULDERS, AS XENA COMES TO STAND JUST BEHIND THEM. WARREN Ah, young Xena. XENA I need to go check on the guards up north. It’s been clear for a few days. WARREN STANDS UP. WARREN You think we’ll be seeing them soon then? XENA Something like that. XENA LOOKS OVER AT THE TWO VILLAGERS STANDING ACROSS THE TABLE. THEY REMAIN QUIET. WITHOUT A WORD, XENA TURNS ON HER HEEL, AND LEAVES THROUGH THE KITCHEN IN THE BACK. LYCEUS, WHO IS STILL SITTING, WATCHES HER LEAVE. WHEN THE DOOR CLOSES BEHIND HER, HIS EYES MEET TORIS’. THE TWO BROTHERS WATCH EACH OTHER. LYCEUS STANDS UP TO BEGIN TO WALK OVER TO TORIS AT THE BAR, BUT TORIS WALKS TO THE FRONT DOOR, AND LEAVES. CUT TO: EXT. NORTH OUTPOST OF AMPHIPOLIS - AFTERNOON (12 YEARS AGO) TWO YOUNG MEN ARE SITTING UNDER A TREE WITH STAVES ON THE GROUND NEXT TO THEM. OUTPOST GUARD #1 What do ya think’s gonna happen after this? OUTPOST GUARD #2 After what? OUTPOST GUARD #1 After we defeat Cortese. OUTPOST GUARD #2 Ah, yeah. Been some talk around the band that we should spread out. OUTPOST GUARD #1 S’truth? OUTPOST GUARD #2 Yeah. OUTPOST GUARD #1 I’d follow Xena anywhere. OUTPOST GUARD #2 Too right. OUTPOST GUARD #1 Gotta get through this first. OUTPOST GUARD #2 Shouldn’t be too hard. You see Xena wrangle that mustang the other day? OUTPOST GUARD #1 Didn’t, but I heard about it, and saw her riding the damn thing just yesterday. OUTPOST GUARD #2 Ah, I missed that. THE SOUND OF APPROACHING HOOFBEATS CAUSE THEIR HEADS TO TURN BEHIND THEM. ACROSS THE FIELD, XENA IS APPROACHING ON A BLACK STALLION. OUTPOST GUARD #2 You don’t think she sensed us talkin’ about her, do ya? OUTPOST GUARD #1 With her, I’d believe it. XENA PULLS THE STALLION UP NEAR THE OUTPOST. SHE HOPS OFF THE HORSE, AND PATS IT ON THE SIDE BEFORE TURNING TO THE MEN. XENA Hello boys. THEY WAVE AT XENA, AS SHE MOVES OVER TO SIT NEAR THEM. Anything exciting out here? OUTPOST GUARD #1 Quiet all day, Xena. OUTPOST GUARD #2 Aye, lads before us said the same. XENA PULLS UP A STALK OF GRASS, AND PLACES IT BETWEEN HER TEETH. XENA That’s good. OUTPOST GUARD #2 Where’s Ly? XENA Decided to come out myself. Give the big guy here some space to run. THE TWO BOYS LOOK AT THE BLACK STALLION EATING GRASS BEHIND XENA. SHE TURNS BACK FROM WATCHING THE HORSE TO LOOK OUT AT THE FIELDS AHEAD OF THEM. OUTPOST GUARD #1 How’s things with Toris? Still being stubborn, yeah? XENA Probably cursing me out to my mother right about now. (PAUSE) Good thing we have Ly. XENA STANDS UP, AND BRUSHES OFF THE LEATHER ON HER BODY. Keep your eyes open, alright? OUTPOST GUARD #2 You got it, Xena. XENA SMOOTHLY BOARDS THE HORSE. XENA Ly will be out here later, I’m sure. OUTPOST GUARD #1 We’ll keep it sharp. XENA WAVES, AND TURNS HER HORSE AROUND. THEY WATCH HER RACE THE STALLION ACROSS THE FIELDS. OUTPOST GUARD #2 Gotta agree with ya. I’d follow her across the Styx, I would. XENA DISAPPEARS FROM VIEW. CUT TO: EXT. AMPHIPOLIS - AFTERNOON (12 YEARS AGO) THE YOUNG VILLAGERS ARE OUT PRACTICING WITH STAVES AGAIN. MOST OF THEM ARE RELATIVELY SKILLED WITH THE STAFF. THEY ARE PAIRED OFF, AND PERFORMING ADEQUATE ROUTINES. LYCEUS IS WATCHING A FEW OF THE PAIRS WITH A STAFF IN HIS OWN HANDS. HE HAS A SHORT SWORD IN THE SHEATH ON HIS HIP. A YOUNG MAN WALKS UP TO LYCEUS. YOUNG MAN How we lookin’, Ly? LYCEUS I think it’s good. (PAUSE) But I don’t have Xena’s eye, truth be told. YOUNG MAN Aye, one of a kind, that one. LYCEUS NODS. Sure am feelin’ better with the staff though. Never be in her league, I’m sure. LYCEUS (LAUGHING) Will any of us? YOUNG MAN Point there. You know, Ly, we’d all do whatever she told us. All of us. LYCEUS Gotta get past Cortese first. YOUNG MAN Ah, can’t say we’re worried about that. LYCEUS LOOKS ACROSS THE PRACTICING FIGHTERS TO SEE TORIS WALKING TOWARD THE GROUP. LYCEUS Wish that were the case for all. THE YOUNG MAN FOLLOWS LYCEUS’ LINE OF SIGHT. YOUNG MAN He’ll come around. LYCEUS MAKES A NONCOMMITTAL NOISE, AS TORIS NEARS A GROUP OF OLDER BOYS TALKING NEAR A TREE. CUT TO: EXT. AMPHIPOLIS - CONTINUOUS TORIS WAVES AS THE GROUP OF FOUR NEAR THE TREE SEES HIM COMING. TORIS News? MAN #1 Waiting for Xena to come back. TORIS Hunting again? MAN #2 Checking the outpost. MAN #3 Left Lyceus here in her stead. TORIS LOOKS OUT TOWARD LYCEUS. TORIS Listen (PAUSE) we need to get time alone. MAN #1 What? TORIS Tonight. After the midnight watch switch. MAN #2 At the usual spot? TORIS NODS SLOWLY. MAN #1 Want us to grab Leptus? TORIS (RUSHED) No. MAN #3 No? TORIS Not this time. MAN #1 If you say. MAN #4 Can’t trust em. THE GROUP TURNS TOWARD THE FOURTH MAN. AFTER A MOMENT, THEY LOOK BACK AT TORIS. TORIS S’truth. MAN #4 Saw him talking up Xena and Toris. Getting real cozy like. TORIS Look alive. THE GROUP FOLLOWS WHERE TORIS IS LOOK TO SEE XENA RIDING TOWARD LYCEUS ON THE STALLION. THEY WATCH XENA DISMOUNT THE HORSE. SHE TALKS TO LYCEUS, WHILE THE VILLAGERS AROUND HER BEGIN TO NOTICE HER PRESENCE, AND PAUSE IN THEIR SPARRING. MAN #3 We goin’ over there? TORIS I’m not in any rush. XENA SHOUTS A COMMAND, AND THE GATHERED VILLAGERS GO NEAR HER TO LISTEN TO WHAT SHE HAS TO SAY. MAN #1 Gonna die. The lot of them. CUT TO: EXT. AMPHIPOLIS - CONTINUOUS XENA LOOKS OUT AT THE GATHERING GROUP OF YOUNG VILLAGERS, EACH WITH A STAFF IN THEIR HANDS. THE STAVES VARY IN SIZES, SOME SLIGHTLY BENT. LYCEUS IS STANDING BESIDE HER. LYCEUS He’s been standing over there since he came out here. XENA Lyceus, I don’t care. LYCEUS Xena. XENA Lyceus. XENA LOOKS AT LYCEUS. HE LOOKS AT THE GROUND. XENA TAKES A STEP FORWARD TO ADDRESS THE GATHERED CROWD. Listen up, people! SILENCE GOES THROUGH THE GROUP. Right. So there’s no sign of Cortese (PAUSE) yet. There will A MURMUR GOES THROUGH THE GROUP. Something tells me we won’t have much longer to wait. (PAUSE) But we can handle them. THE GROUP CHEERS. XENA LOOKS PAST THE GROUP TO SEE HER BROTHER AND HIS FOUR FRIENDS WALKING TO STAND BEHIND THE BACK OF THE GROUP. XENA LETS THE CHEERING GO ON FOR A FEW MOMENTS. SHE HOLDS UP HER HAND, AND THEY QUIET DOWN. Okay, break is over. Practice group melees. (PAUSE) Let’s do this, people! THE GROUP DISPERSES INTO TWO GROUPS, PREPPING THEIR FORMATIONS. TORIS AND HIS FRIENDS REMAIN WHERE THEY ARE. XENA TURNS TO SPEAK TO LYCEUS, AND KEEPS TORIS IN HER PERIPHERAL VISION. LYCEUS Gonna join them? XENA SEES TORIS AND HIS FRIENDS WALK OFF TO JOIN THE SPARRING. XENA Not this time. I’m going to go over there. Do some warm ups. LYCEUS I’ll come with you. XENA SMILES AT HER BROTHER. XENA Sure, little bro. Let’s go. THEY WALK TOWARD THE TREES BEHIND THE GROUP OF VILLAGERS. Been practicing? LYCEUS (LAUGHING) You mean your kind or everyone else’s kind? XENA CHUCKLES AND SHAKES HER HEAD. XENA What can I say? XENA LEAVES HER SWORD SHEATHED ON HER BACK, AND BENDS DOWN TO PICK UP TWO LARGE STICKS FROM THE GROUND. SHE TOSSES ONE TO LYCEUS, WHO SNATCHES IT FROM THE AIR. WHILE LYCEUS PICKS OFF A FEW SPLINTERS FROM THE STICK, XENA TAKES A FIRM GRIP IN HER RIGHT HAND, AND TURNS HER RIGHT SIDE TOWARD THE TREE. WITH A POWERFUL SWING, SHE HITS THE STICK AGAINST THE TREE WITH A POWERFUL BACKSWING. THE STICK HITS WITH A DISTINCT CRACK. LYCEUS JERKS HIS HEAD UP, AND LOOKS AT HER WITH SLIGHTLY ROUND EYES. LYCEUS Wow, Xe. How do you do that? XENA TAKES ANOTHER SWING, BEFORE ANSWERING LYCEUS. XENA Practice. LYCEUS TURNS TOWARD HIS OWN TREE, AND BEGINS TO HIT IT WITH FORWARD SWINGS. HIS STICK BARELY MAKES ANY SOUND WHEN HITTING THE TREE. XENA LOOKS BACK OVER TOWARD THE PRACTICE FIELD. TORIS IS TALKING TO A FEW OTHER PEOPLE BESIDES HIS ORIGINAL GROUP. XENA WATCHES AS THE PEOPLE HE’S TALKING TO SEEM TO DISMISS HIM WITH A COMMENT THAT CAUSES A DISTASTEFUL LOOK ON TORIS’ FACE. TORIS SHAKES HIS HEAD, AND SAUNTERS OFF THE FIELD. XENA NARROWS HER EYES. WITH A SMOOTH MOTION, HER ENTIRE BODY TURNS BACK TO THE TREE WITH A POWERFUL BACKSWING OF THE STICK. THE STICK BREAKS LOUDLY AGAINST THE TREE, AS THE MOTION PUSHES HER THROUGH INTO A BACK SWING. XENA LOOKS UP TO SEE LYCEUS LOOKING AT HER WITH A SLIGHTLY SLACKED JAW. XENA SMIRKS AT LYCEUS, AND THROWS DOWN THE REST OF THE STICK IN HER HAND. END FLASHBACK FADE OUT ACT THREE FADE IN: INT. POTEIDAIA MEETING HALL - MIDDAY (DAY 1) THE MEETING HALL IS FULL OF PEOPLE TALKING ABOUT THE PROBLEM AT HAND. THE ARCHON AND GUARD CAPTAIN ARE SITTING AT THE TABLE AT THE FRONT TALKING TO EACH OTHER. THE CAPTAIN IS DOING MORE OF THE TALKING - OR SHOUTING. VILLAGER #1 We should send the army after her! SHOUTS OF AGREEMENTS GO UP. THE CAPTAIN LOOKS OUT OVER THE GROUP. THE THREE ELDERLY VISITORS ARE SITTING HUDDLED TOGETHER IN WORRY. THE CAPTAIN STANDS UP, AND HOLDS UP BOTH HANDS. GUARD CAPTAIN Everyone! (PAUSE) Everyone! A FEW OF THE SOLDIERS BANG WEAPONS OR FISTS AGAINST FALLS TO GET THE ATTENTION OF THE GATHERED PEOPLE. SLOWLY, THE ATTENTION TRAVELS BACK TO THE FRONT OF THE MEETING HALL. (TO SOLDIERS) Thank you. HE LOOKS OVER THE GROUP. (TO THE ELDERLY GROUP) Were you able to see what she looked like? Or any of her troops? ELDERLY WOMAN #1 No, m’lord. We was on the edge of town. Only reason we was able to get away, I’m sure. ELDERLY MAN It was so dark, yeah. ELDERLY WOMAN #2 Saw a bit of one man as wanted us all dead. Then we heard a woman’s voice yelling. ELDERLY MAN Aye, didn’t look that gift horse in the mouth, no did we? GUARD CAPTAIN Them coming in the night, is very troublesome. Smart. Like they knew what we had there. A SILENCE GOES AROUND THE ROOM. ARCHON BLESBY Captain, what preemptive measure can we take? THE VILLAGERS SHIFT A LITTLE CLOSER. THOSE THAT WERE STANDING SIT DOWN. ON THE WALL NEAR THE DOOR, XENA FOCUSES HER ATTENTION ON THE CAPTAIN. GUARD CAPTAIN My friends, we cannot make too many choices before knowing more information. VILLAGERS NOD SLOWLY IN AGREEMENT. I will send five of my scouts. They will pack as if going on a hunting party. THE GUARD CAPTAIN LOOKS OVER AT THE ARCHON, AND SEES NO DISAGREEMENT. They will head out to the village. If they cleared out the entire place, odds are, they decided to just take over. ELDERLY MAN Aye, probably not figuring on any of us making it this far in the night. GUARD CAPTAIN Right. Would have been safer for you to head down the river. But you did make it here, and now we have some warning on the wind. A FEW WHISPERS GO THROUGH THE VILLAGERS. Since they just took over last night, they’ll probably be bold enough to move in and bed down today. Won’t be expecting anything this soon to be on the rebellion. ARCHON BLESBY When do you want to send them out then, Captain? GUARD CAPTAIN Within a candlemark, sir. ARCHON BLESBY Very well. THE ARCHON STANDS UP TO ADDRESS THE VILLAGERS. As for the rest of us, let’s go on with our day. Poteidaia is safe with our great captain, here. THE ARCHON CLAPS THE CAPTAIN ON THE SHOULDER. That’s all, everyone. I do believe I saw some pastries being sold down the way. Good day, everyone. THE ARCHON STEPS BACK FROM THE TABLE, AND WALKS OUT THE BACKDOOR. VILLAGERS EITHER STAY TO TALK IN GROUPS, OR BEGIN TO LEAVE OUT THE FRONT DOOR. XENA STAYS BACK, WATCHING THE GUARD CAPTAIN. THE GUARD CAPTAIN GESTURES TO ONE OF HIS SOLDIERS NEARBY. THE SOLDIER COMES NEAR HIM, AND HE SPEAKS TO HIM QUICKLY. THE SOLDIER SALUTES, AND SNEAKS OUT THE BACKDOOR. XENA SCANS THE ROOM, AND LEAVES OUT THE FRONT DOOR. CUT TO: EXT. POTEIDAIA MEETING HALL - CONTINUOUS XENA STEPS OUT OF THE DOOR, AND BEGINS WALKING TOWARD THE BACK. SHE WALKS BEHIND A GROUP OF CHATTING WOMEN, UNTIL SHE SEES THE SOLDIER THAT STEPPED OUT OF THE BACK OF THE MEETING HALL. HE WALKS TOWARD A GROUP OF SOLDIERS ON GUARD. XENA STOPS AT A STALL, AND PRETENDS TO LOOK AT GOODS, WHILE THE SOLDIERS STAY IN HER PERIPHERAL VISION. STALL VENDOR G’day, Lady. Can I help ya with anything? XENA Just looking. Thanks. THE STALL VENDOR QUICKLY TURNS TO A VILLAGER WALKING UP. XENA WATCHES THE SOLDIER WALK OFF WITH ONE OF THE OTHER SOLDIERS. SHE FOLLOWS THEM. DISSOLVE TO: BEGIN FLASHBACK: INT. AMPHIPOLIS XENA’S MOTHER’S INN - EVENING (12 YEARS AGO) XENA IS SITTING AT A TABLE WITH LYCEUS, A YOUNG WOMAN, AND TWO YOUNG MEN. THEY ARE ALL DRINKING. ON THE TABLE, THERE ARE SOME PAPERS AND MAPS. THE WOMAN, WHO IS SITTING NEXT TO XENA, LEANS OVER, AS XENA WHISPERS SOMETHING IN HER EAR, CAUSING THE WOMAN TO LAUGH. LYCEUS, WHO IS SITTING ON THE OTHER SIDE OF XENA, LOOKS OVER AT THE TWO WOMEN WITH A SMILE. THE TWO MEN ACROSS FROM HIM ARE LAUGHING AND DRINKING. LYCEUS So what do you think, boys? Up for some sparring against us later? YOUNG MAN #1 No. No, no, no, no, no. Not a chance. Not goin’ against her if her hands were tied. THE OTHER YOUNG MAN AND LYCEUS LAUGH. XENA AND THE YOUNG WOMAN LOOK OVER WITH QUESTIONING EXPRESSIONS. LYCEUS Just seeing if they wanted to spar with us later. XENA LOOKS AT THE TWO YOUNG MEN, AND LAUGHS A LITTLE. YOUNG WOMAN I would spar with Xena. EVERYONE LOOKS AT THE YOUNG WOMAN WITH SLIGHTLY ROUND EYES. XENA HAS A SMIRK ON HER FACE. LYCEUS (LAUGHING) You’d have a better chance than we would. Considering. XENA ELBOWS HER BROTHER IN THE SIDE. Hey, hey, hey. Watch it. Not everyone has bones made of iron. XENA GOES BACK TO TALKING TO THE WOMAN NEXT TO HER. YOUNG MAN #2 (UNDER HIS BREATH) If I thought I had a chance with that match, I’d be as confident as her too. YOUNG MAN #1 S’truth. LYCEUS Careful, she can probably hear you. XENA TURNS BACK TO THE GROUP. XENA Okay, let’s talk about what we came here for. THE MEN SET DOWN THEIR MUGS. Look here, (POINTING AT A MAP) this pass is where they came through last time. YOUNG WOMAN And where they ran off when you came at them. XENA LOOKS AT THE YOUNG WOMAN WITH A HUGE SMILE ON HER FACE. SHE NUDGES THE WOMAN WITH HER SHOULDER, AND LEAVES HER ARM RESTING ON THE ARM OF THE WOMAN’S CHAIR. XENA They only sent ten that time. Thought it’d be easy going. XENA LOOKS AT EACH MAN IN TURN. I don’t think they’ll think that this time. YOUNG MAN #2 Especially since they was yelling about Cortese hisself coming if we didn’t deliver. LYCEUS What’s the plan, Xena? XENA With the pattern of how long it takes between their rounds here, we should be seeing them in less than a sevenday. We’re not going to full around with the council or the elders anymore. They voted for us to come up with a defense. Now it’s time to really set up. THE MEN NOD IN AGREEMENT. From now on, we’ll have five guards staying up in the village. When the outposts set the watch fire, I want everyone awake and ready before one log burns down. LYCEUS You really think it will be that fast? XENA I do. I’m sure we made him mad. We have to hit fast, and off as much of them as we can. The point is to make sure they don’t come back near here. YOUNG MAN #2 Too right. YOUNG WOMAN Good, I’d love to get some quiet time, yeah? XENA (FLIRTING) Quiet? THE MEN AROUND HER LAUGH. THE YOUNG WOMAN PLAY SLAPS AT XENA’S ARM. YOUNG WOMAN You know what I mean. XENA LOOKS AT HER WITH A RAISED EYEBROW. LYCEUS Alright, so you want us to get the new guard rounds started? XENA Sure. YOUNG MAN #1 Xena, what do we do after? XENA After what? YOUNG MAN #2 After we’re done with Cortese. THE OTHER YOUNG MAN NODS TOO. XENA Let’s do this first. We’re just protecting Ampipolis. XENA STANDS UP, AND PUSHES HER CHAIR IN. THE YOUNG WOMAN STANDS ALSO. XENA REACHES FOR THE MAPS. LYCEUS I’ll get this for ya, Xena. YOUNG MAN #2 Yeah, go on. Have a good night. XENA Thanks, Lyceus. Goodnight, boys. THE MEN WATCH THE TWO WOMEN WALK OFF. END FLASHBACK DISSOLVE TO: EXT. POTEIDAIA ROAD LEADING OUT OF THE CITY - AFTERNOON (DAY 1) FOUR MEN ARE SETTLED ON HORSES, LOOKING AROUND. THE SOUND OF HOOFBEATS CAUSE THEM TO LOOK UP TOWARD THE CITY. THE SOLDIER (#1) XENA WAS FOLLOWING COMES UP TO JOIN THEM. SOLDIER #1 Ready? THE MEN NOD. Let’s go. HE LEADS THE SOLDIERS DOWN THE ROAD. AFTER THEY ARE NO LONGER IN SIGHT, XENA PEEKS OUT OF THE TREELINE ON BOARD ARGO. UNDER HER CLOAK, HER ARMOR GLISTENS. SHE FOLLOWS, REMAINING IN THE TREELINE. FADE OUT: ACT FOUR FADE IN: EXT. OUTSIDE POTEIDAIA ROAD - AFTERNOON (DAY 1) THE FIVE SOLDIERS ARE GALLOPING DOWN THE ROAD WITH FOREST ON EITHER SIDE. THEY COME TO A TURN IN THE ROAD, AND SLOW TO A STOP. THE LEAD SOLDIER PULLS OUT A MAP FROM HIS SADDLEBAG SOLDIER #1 S’what I thought. HE PUTS THE MAP AWAY, WHILE THE SOLDIERS WAIT IN PATIENT SILENCE. We have to go through the trees here, to meet up with the stream that will cut through to the village. We’ll cut off time, and hopefully stay out of sight. SOLDIER #2 Good thinking. SOLDIER #3 How much time you figure? SOLDIER #1 Should be there before sundown, I’m thinking. Maybe before if we can pick up some speed. SOLDIER #2 Should break the horses. SOLDIER #1 Aye, just for a bit. We haven’t much time. Cap’n wants us there and back before they have time to come at us. THE SOLDIERS DISMOUNT, AND PULL OUT WATERSKINS AND ROAD SNACKS. SOLDIER #4 I’ve heard of this Xena before. SOLDIER #5 Me too. Her army destroyed my hometown. SOLDIER #3 Glad we’re staying out of sight. CUT TO: INT. GABRIELLE AND LILA’S ROOM - AFTERNOON (DAY 1) THE ROOM IS LIT BY SUNLIGHT COMING IN THE WINDOW. FOOTSTEPS SOUND BEFORE THE DOOR OPENS INWARDS, AND GABRIELLE WALKS INSIDE THE DOOR, CLOSING IT BEHIND HER. WITH A DEEP SIGH, SHE WALKS OVER TO HER BED, AND FLOPS DOWN ONTO HER BACK. GABRIELLE But really, what were you thinking was going to happen? SILENCE IS HER ONLY ANSWER. Some bard I am. Couldn’t even convince a barkeep to let me talk to someone. GABRIELLE TURNS HER HEAD TO LOOK OUT OF THE WINDOW. Someone. Cyrene. Maybe I was expecting something more poetic. Or hero-like. Something. WITH ANOTHER DEEP SIGH, SHE GETS OUT OF BED. SHE PULLS HER SCROLL CASE FROM BELOW HER MATTRESS. SHE TOSSES THE CASE ONTO HER BED, AND LOOKS AROUND THE ROOM. Well, this isn’t very magical. CUT TO: EXT. BEND IN ROAD OUTSIDE POTEIDAIA - AFTERNOON (DAY 1) THE SOLDIERS ARE STOWING WATERSKINS BACK INTO SADDLEBAGS. SOLDIER #4 Should be able to move through the trees fine. SOLDIER #2 Aye, in and out. SOLDIER #3 Let’s mount up and shut up then. THE SOLDIERS ALL CLIMB ABOARD THEIR HORSES. SOLDIER #1 I’ll take point. One after one until we get through the other side. THE OTHER SOLDIERS SAY WORDS OF AGREEMENT, AND FOLLOW HIM SINGLE FILE INTO THE TREES. THEY AREN’T THICK, SO THEY CAN MOVE THE HORSES THROUGH EASILY. WHEN THEY ARE NO LONGER IN SIGHT, XENA COMES OUT OF THE TREES, AND BEGINS TO FOLLOW THEM. SHE TAKES OF HER CLOAK, LETTING IT DRAPE OVER ARGO’S SADDLE. IN A SMOOTH MOTION, SHE STANDS ON HER SADDLE, BEFORE GRABBING AN OVERHANGING BRANCH, AND CLIMBING UP INTO THE TREE. ARGO WAITS AMIABLY. THE SOLDIERS CONTINUE TO WALK. XENA IS OUT OF SIGHT. IN COMPLETE SILENCE, XENA DROPS IN THE BACK OF THE SADDLE OF THE LAST SOLDIER, AND SLAMS THE HEELS OF HER PALMS AGAINST THE SIDES OF HER HEAD. HE SLUMPS IN THE SADDLE, AND SHE PUSHES HIM OFF ONTO THE GROUND. SHE CONTINUES TO FOLLOW ON THE STOLEN HORSE. SOLDIER #1 Stay close, boys. Shout if you see anything. SHE JUMPS BACK INTO THE TREE ABOVE HER. THE HORSE CONTINUES TO WALK BEHIND THE SOLDIERS. FROM THE TREES ABOVE, A WHIP SNAKES OUT, AND QUICKLY GRABS THE FOURTH SOLDIER AROUND THE NECK. WITH JUST THE SLIGHTEST GRUNT, THE MAN IS THROWN OFF THE HORSE INTO A LARGE TREE. HE SLIDES DOWN THE TREE UNCONSCIOUS. I don’t know if they’re smart enough to send out guard points. ABOVE THE THIRD MAN, XENA HANGS UPSIDE DOWN FROM A TREE, AND QUICKLY GRABS THE MAN. SHE THROWS HIM AGAINST ANOTHER TREE. HE SLUMPS DOWN UNCONSCIOUS. If they are, we won’t want to give them any warning of us. Get your crossbows ready just in case. THE SOUND OF A BRANCH CREAKING SOUNDS BEFORE A LARGE BRANCH SLAPS THE SECOND SOLDIER OFF HIS HORSE. HE LANDS ON HIS BACK UNCONSCIOUS. Did any of you hear something? THE FIRST SOLDIER TURNS ON HIS HORSE. ALL HE SEES BEHIND HIM ARE FOUR UNMOUNTED HORSES. What the - A SOUND OF A THROAT CLEARING COMES FROM AHEAD OF HIM. HE TURNS TO SEE XENA, ARMORED STANDING IN FRONT OF HIM WITH HER ARMS CROSSED, AND A SMUG LOOK ON HER FACE. You there! Halt! XENA LOOKS AROUND HER WITH ARMS SPREAD OUT. XENA Didn’t realize I was moving. SOLDIER #1 I’ll have to take you in for Questioning! HE DRAWS HIS SWORD. XENA Guess you are as dumb as you look. XENA UNHOOKS HER CHAKRAM, AND THROWS IT WITH A BACKHAND MOTION. IT BOUNCES OFF A TREE, AND FLIES INTO THE SWORD IN THE MAN’S HAND. IT FALLS FROM THE GROUND, AND HE MAKES A STARTLES SOUNDS. Sorry, buddy. Can’t let you go anywhere. THE MAN NUDGES HIS HORSE TO CHARGE HER. SHE DUCKS OUT OF THE WAY, AND GRABS THE MAN BY HIS ARMOR, HAULING HIM OFF AND ONTO THE GROUND. HE HITS THE GROUND WITH A THUMP AND GRUNT. SOLDIER #1 Son of a - XENA HOPS ON TOP OF HIM, AND GRABS TWO FISTFULLS OF ARMOR. SHE LIFTS HIM UP, AND SLAMS HIM BACK DOWN. HE GRABS FOR HER. SHE PUNCHES HIM IN THE FACE, AND HE JOINS HIS COMRADES IN UNCONSCIOUSNESS. SHE PULLS OUT A DAGGER, AND HOLDS IT AGAINST HIS NECK. HE IS COMPLETELY STILL. WITH A SHAKE OF HER HEAD, SHE SHEATHS THE DAGGER, AND STANDS UP. SHE DRAGS THE MAN TO ONE OF THE TREES. SHE REMOVES THE BRIDLE FROM ONE OF THE HORSES, AND USES THAT TO TIE THE MAN’S ARMS AROUND THE BACK OF THE TREE. SHE WALKS OVER TO ONE OF THE OTHER MEN. CUT TO: INT. GABRIELLE AND LILA’S ROOM - AFTERNOON (DAY 1) GABRIELLE IS LAYING ON HER BACK ON THE FLOOR OF HER BEDROOM. HER UNOPENED SCROLL CASE IS RESTING ON HER STOMACH. THE DOOR TO HER ROOM OPENS, AND LILA WALKS IN LOOKING AROUND. LILA Gabrielle! GABRIELLE LIFTS UP A HAND OFF THE GROUND. GABRIELLE Present. LILA WALKS PAST HER, AND SITS ON THE STOOL NEARBY. LILA You won’t believe what’s going On! GABRIELLE Can’t be anything too crazy around these parts. LILA Oh, do hush. GABRIELLE What is it, Lila? LILA There was some commotion down by the road. Turns out it was some refugees from a village completely destroyed by a warlord! GABRIELLE’S EYES GO ROUND, AND HER HEAD TURNS TOWARD LILA. GABRIELLE I don’t believe that. LILA It’s true! They just sent off some soldiers to go check it out. GABRIELLE Wow. LILA Rumor is that it’s Xena. GABRIELLE SITS UP STRAIGHT. GABRIELLE The Warrior Princess?! LILA That’s what I heard. GABRIELLE Oh my gods. I wonder if we’ll see her. LILA I do hope not. GABRIELLE GRABS THE SCROLL CASE THAT FELL ON THE GROUND, AND STARES AT IT. DISSOLVE TO: BEGIN FLASHBACK: EXT. AMPHIPOLIS WOODS - NIGHT (12 YEARS AGO) TORIS’ FRIENDS ARE SITTING ON LOGS ON THE GROUND. A SMALL FIRE IS GOING IN THE CENTER OF THEM. MAN #1 Did you see what she did with that damn stick against that tree? MAN #2 Everyone saw it. MAN #3 She may be ready and able, but I’m not. MAN #2 Is anyone besides her? MAN #4 I’ve been thinking. MAN #1 That’s dangerous. MAN #4 What if Toris is wrong? MAN #3 He’s not. Cortese is a murderer. MAN #4 Nah, not about that. About her. MAN #1 Let’s wait and see what he has to say tonight. MAN #2 Where is he? A SOUND MAKES THEM LOOK OVER TO ONE SIDE OF THE FIRE. TORIS COMES WALKING OUT OF THE TREELINE. HE PLOPS DOWN ONTO A LOG WITH A GRUNT. MAN #3 Something up? TORIS They set up a new set of guard rotations. MAN #1 Expecting them soon then, huh? TORIS If we’re going to think of something, we need to do it now. END FLASHBACK DISSOLVE TO: EXT. BEND IN ROAD OUTSIDE POTEIDAIA - AFTERNOON (DAY 1) XENA IS KNEELING BEHIND A TREE, TYING ONE OF THE SOLDIERS WITH THE BRIDLE. SHE COMES AROUND TO THE FRONT, AND LOOKS AT HIM. HE IS UNCONSCIOUS WITH A CLOTH TIED INTO AND AROUND HIS MOUTH. TIED TO THE TREES NEXT TO HIM, THE OTHER FOUR SOLDIERS ARE IN THE SAME POSITION. XENA STANDS THERE, LOOKING AT THEM. XENA Clean and fast. XENA TURNS AROUND, AND BEGINS WALKING TOWARD ARGO. SHE SUDDENLY STOPS, AND HER BODY GOES STIFF. XENA Now you decide to show up? SHE TURNS AROUND, AND, IN A BLUE FLASH, ARES POPS UP. HIS HAIR IS AS DARK AS XENA’S, AND HE’S WEARING LEATHER PANTS WITH A VEST. THE SWORD OF WAR IS IN THE SHEATH AT HIS WAIST. HE TAKES A FEW STEPS TOWARDS XENA, AND STOPS WHEN SHE CROSSES HER ARMS, AND GIVES HIM A COLD LOOK. HE CROSSES HIS ARMS AS WELL, AND LOOKS AT HER. What do you want? I don’t have time for you anymore, Ares. ARES C’mon, Xena. Admit you’re happy to see me. XENA Goodbye, Ares. ARES Aww, you used to be so much more fun, Xena. XENA TURNS TO WALK AWAY. You haven’t even heard my offer! XENA CONTINUES TO WALK. I should have known you were getting weak. Leaving these men alive like this. XENA STOPS WALKING. ARES SMIRKS. FADE OUT
10034585	Ill Never Live This Down	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Harry Potter, Minerva McGonagall, Other(s), Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by darkpyroangel06", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2009-04-03T00:00:00", "words": "6,461", "Additional Tags": "Explicit Language, BDSM, Slash sex, Out of Character, Sexual Content, Voyeurism, Alternate Universe, Angst, Tragedy, Drama, Mystery, Suspense, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot", "Relationship": "Remus Lupin/Harry Potter", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "HPFandom", "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 }	Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything pertaining to Harry Potter. If I did, the books and movies would have gone in a MUCH different direction. Maybe something more along the lines of what is to follow...A/N: I wrote an HP/RL one-shot not too long ago, and everyone who reviewed demanded a sequel. So, this is what my muses produced. Enjoy everyone! -dpa06- I'll Never Live This Down... For those three months that Harry Potter had left of his seventh year at Hogwarts, Severus Snape avoided him like the plague. If he needed detention, it was with Filch. If he needed help in Potions, he was referred to another student. He wasn't Potter's Head of House, so there were no worries there.Likewise, he also avoided Remus Lupin like the very same plague. He didn't sit next to him at meals or staff meetings. He sat at the opposite end of the professors' Quidditch box. The only time he willingly went near the other man was to give him his Wolfsbane Potion.And throughout those three months, the rest of the faculty had teased him mercilessly. “Severus, I just wanted to make it clear that my husband and I are madly in love with one another,” Pomona Sprout clarified one day with a large smile on her face. “You've never met him before, but I'll be sure you meet him the next time he comes around so there are no mix-ups, okay?” Minerva McGonagall was the next to 'clarify' something with him. “My fantasies of being a cat are purely for freedom's sake, Severus. There's nothing kinky to them.” She too had a large smile on her face. Even Filius Flitwick felt the need to clarify with him. “Severus, I never married and I never will. I've been told I'm too involved with my work, meaning my students. But not in that way. Sweet, Merlin, no!” He gave a deep chuckle. “No, just the teaching of Charms aspect.” The taunts and teases were getting on his last nerve. However, the brats had left two weeks ago, and the jokes had died down. Surely they'd leave him alone now? Not that he ever showed how annoyed or embarrassed he was by the whole situation. He stood by his mistake; he held on to his principles. He thought he'd seen a professor taking advantage of a student and hadn't hesitated to make it right. Just because he happened to have been wrong...But there were better things to think about. No students. No essays. No parchments. No Pot-“And you know where everything is, of course, Harry. I'll leave you to get settled in.”Those simple words caused Severus Snape to freeze in mid-step and almost fall flat on his face because of the sudden cessation in movement. Harry? As in, Harry Potter? No, surely not... He looked around the corner and saw that, sure enough, Harry Potter was standing there with Albus Dumbledore. Severus had just left Dumbledore's office after realizing the headmaster wasn't in at the moment. No. Instead of being in his office, Albus was showing Potter to the staff rooms and-Staff rooms?! Why was Potter being shown to the staff rooms?!“Thank-you very much, Professor Dumbledore. I'm sure the rooms will be more than adequate.”“Oh, Harry! There's no need to call me 'professor'. We're colleagues now. Call me Albus.”Colleagues?! Severus held a hand to his heart in utmost fear. There's no way that after getting rid of the Potter brat and, hopefully, the last of the Potter line that Albus brought him back as a professor?! The universe was just so unfair sometimes. It did seem to look that way, however. Potter was being shown to one of the rooms that was used as living quarters for the staff. It was one of the rooms that was unoccupied, so there was no way that Potter was just visiting someone. No, Merlin wouldn't be that nice to him.“If there's anything you need, Harry, you know where to find me. Also, Remus is just down the hall there, and Filius lives around the corner there. Feel free to update the furniture, walls, rugs, etc. as you wish. It is your home now. Have a good day, my boy.” Well, that settles that. Potter lives here. Potter teaches here. I'm doomed. Severus stayed at his corner, spying on Potter until the headmaster was gone. As soon as the old man was out of sight, Harry let out a deep sigh. “Finally!” he whispered. “I thought he'd never leave me alone. As if I don't know my way around the castle after living here for the past seven years!” He watched as the young man warded his new chambers, and then set off down the hall.To Remus Lupin's chambers.Oh, this has got to be investigated.Severus discreetly followed Potter down to the werewolf's rooms where Potter looked up and down the corridor before knocking on the door and waiting for Lupin to answer. He must have been expecting the younger Gryffindor because he opened the door, grabbed Potter by the shoulders, and kissed him breathless. If it had been someone else, would Lupin have stopped himself in time? Better yet, why were the snogging in the hallway where anyone could see them?! It was a good thing the students had gone home two weeks ago! Well, most of the students anyways. One of them was being pushed up against a wall and molested.But they were both adults now, both professors. There was nothing against them being intimately involved. ..l.. ..l.. ..l.. ..l.. ..l.. “He's still watching us,” Harry whispered as Remus sucked on his neck. “Can you feel his eyes? Like they're burning a hole right through us!”“You slut,” Remus whispered back. “You're such an exhibitionist.”“You get off on it just as much as I do,” came the retort. “Inside, Remus. Let's go inside.” ..l.. ..l.. ..l.. ..l.. ..l.. Nowhere was safe. Nothing was sacred. Day, night. Weekday, weekend. Inside, outside. Severus had caught the two Gryffindors pawing at each other anywhere and everywhere two people could hold still long enough to... paw at each other. And frankly, it was starting to get on his last nerve! He was here first. He had been here before Lupin or Potter. He'd been a professor longer than both of them combined. Those two had been caught snogging in his hallways, his Great Hall, his Entry Hall, his greenhouses, his front lawn, his lake, his empty classrooms. They were all his!And it wasn't just snogging. That he might have been able to put up with. No. He'd seen groping, fellatio, rutting... And the things he'd heard! He didn't need to hear those things! They were improper. And they were rude. Severus was sure those two were just rubbing it in his face that he wasn't getting any.Fine. Two could play at that game. If they wanted to be caught so damn bad, they'd be caught. Severus' campaign to stalk Lupin and Potter was easier said than done. Not because it was hard, but because his mind and his body were at war with one another. Fine, let's go spy on them, one would say. No, that's wrong! the other would shoot back. And they switched! Sometimes his body was for it and his mind against it, and sometimes his mind was for it and his body against it. There was no telling which was which on any given day. ..l.. ..l.. ..l.. ..l.. ..l.. Harry noticed Snape seemed to be around them all the time. The only place they had a molecule of privacy was within their apartments. Which was just fine for him. Their rooms were well used, both Remus' and Harry's alike. However, he didn't want to be cooped up in his rooms all day. True, he and Remus both had lesson plans and the like to get ready, but they also went for a few swims and picnics and walks.It was during those times he felt he should be able to snog Remus if he wanted to. The students weren't around, and they were both adults. There were no legal restrictions to their relationship now.The only restriction, apparently, was Snape.True, Harry was a bit of an exhibitionist. But not that much. He was up for two or three times being caught. But Every. Single. Time? That wasn't exhibitionism; that was invasion of privacy! And he was getting sick of it. So he decided to talk to Remus about it.“It's just not fair!”“Well, we were in the hallway, and in the lake. It's not his fault we're kissing in public places.”“No, but it is his fault he's following us to catch us kissing in public places. It's not like you throw me down on the table at lunch for all to see. If we're in a hallway, we find an alcove. We use deserted classrooms. And that time in the lake was a one time thing,” Harry argued. “I think he's stalking us.”“I think you're just paranoid, Harry,” Remus tried to reason, although he secretly agreed a little with his lover.“Okay. Make this deal with me. We go out three times a time for the next seven days. If we catch him watching us fifteen times or less, I'll not mention another word about it. Does that seem fair? Fifteen or less?”“I'll agree to that,” Remus accepted. “They have to be normal outings, though. Nothing in the dungeons. That is his space, really.” He continued putting books on one of the shelves in Harry's living room. “What are you trying to prove? I mean, other than the fact that Severus is stalking us. What do you want out of this little agreement?”Harry paused and thought for a moment. Then a grin spread over his face. “If he is stalking us, watching us, I want him to really watch us. I want to catch him in the act, pin him to a wall, and make him watch us for real. No more sneaking around. No innocent kisses or gropings in an alcove. I want him to watch you take command and use me like you do every night we're alone in these rooms.”Heat and blood pooled in Remus' groin at Harry's words. He could smell the arousal dripping from the younger man. “Really? And what makes you think I want Severus Snape to see your body? That body which belongs to me and only me? What if I don't want him to see the way you like to be roughed up a bit? Or the way you'll fall to your hands and knees and beg me like the whore you are? What if I don't want him to see this lovely cock,” here he grabbed Harry's prick through his trousers, “all wrapped up in ribbons and metal cockrings?”“Oh! Remus, please!” Harry pleaded, dropping his books and throwing his head back. “Please, anything.”“You are a whore, aren't you? Say it, Harry.”“I'm a whore!” he wailed.“Whose whore?”“Your whore! I'm Remus' whore!”“You're not in the mood to play though, are you, Harry? You want it hard and fast, and you want it now. Isn't that right? Don't try to deny it; I can smell it on you. You're a cock whore. You'll take anyone, anywhere.” He was torturing Harry, not only with his words, but also with his hands and tongue.“Not... n-not true!” Harry panted. “N-not anyone. Just y-you!”“Ah. That's a good answer.” Instead of continuing his ministrations, Remus spun Harry around and forced him to his knees. Two quick spells had Harry's clothes banished and his arse lubed up nice and slick. “I'm not even going to take my trousers off. How does that make you feel?” His answer was a moan. He quickly dropped to his knees behind Harry, guided his cock where it belonged, and slid home in one long, strong stroke. “Sweet, Merlin!” he gasped. “That's got to be some sort of crime!”“If it is,” Harry whined, his voice keening, “lock me up and throw away the key. Oh! Ah! There! THERE!!”It was fast, it was hard, and it was perfect. Both men collapsed on the floor, panting afterwards. It took several moments before Remus had enough oxygen to speak. “You really want to catch Severus in the act of watching us and make him watch us have sex? Truly?”“Does it bother you?” Harry asked softly, not looking at the older man. “It's not an all the time thing, and it's not just anybody I want to watch us. I like us, and what we do. But can you honestly say that it doesn't give you a thrill? Being caught, being found out.”“What's there to be found out? The whole staff and faculty know we're together, Harry.”“I know. But... isn't it exciting?”Remus sighed and lay his head back down on the floor. “I won't say I don't like it, because it does appeal to a side of me. However, it's not something I want to become a part of our relationship. I'm a normally private man, and I like to keep it that way. Sex, no matter how serious or how casual, is meant to be between two people unless previously agreed upon to include one or more other persons. I don't see it, myself. I prefer to remain monogamous in my relationships.”“But he's not-”“However,” Remus continued, cutting Harry off, “you said you don't want it to be a permanent kink of yours. And he won't actually be participating. And it's someone we both know and trust quite implicitly. Plus, a little retribution wouldn't be a bad idea.” He turned his head to look at Harry with a wide grin.“Remus, you read my mind.” ..l.. ..l.. ..l.. ..l.. ..l.. So for the next week, Harry and Remus acted as normal as possible while carrying out Phase One of their Plan. The first three days went perfectly according to Harry's schedule. Snape had been spotted during all nine of the public make-out sessions. Four more, and Harry would have his exhibitionist itch scratched. He felt a little guilty for making Remus go through something he obviously wasn't completely comfortable with and decided to make it up to him.During Thursday evening's public make-out session, Harry dropped to his knees and quickly had Remus' pulsing cock in his hands, and then in his mouth. Remus, of course, protested and tried to remove Harry from his ministrations. They'd already caught Snape watching them when they first started kissing. This was way more than Snape was used to seeing... and way more than Remus was used to receiving outside of his or his lover's rooms.But he gave in, leaned back, and enjoyed the ride. He came hard in Harry's mouth moments later, his hands gripping the black hair in tight fists. Harry put him back to rights, and they continued on to dinner. They'd made sure to leave their rooms with plenty of time to spare for some 'alone time'. ..l.. ..l.. ..l.. ..l.. ..l.. He wanted to strangle someone! Potter, definitely. Lupin, might as well. Himself? Well, he did keep looking for the couple to spy on them. He kept telling himself he was looking for spots for students to hide, or abuse that he could bring before Albus. After he asked the couple about it themselves. Another disaster like that Occlumency meeting when Potter was his student...At least his mind and his body were in agreement most of the time now: they wanted to catch the pair snogging in some corner somewhere. The exercise was doing wonders for his anorexic figure. Madame Pomfrey would have a field day at the professors' yearly exams before school in a few weeks if he wasn't careful to eat a little more now that he was consciously stalking the halls for a certain pair of hormonal professors.This latest stunt though, Potter going to his knees for Lupin, almost made Severus break cover. He'd only seen them do that once, and the roles were reversed. Here, Potter had gone from innocent kissing to not innocent in any way, shape, or form fellatio. Luckily, the pair had enough sense of mind to keep Lupin's cloak miraculously positioned in such a way that nothing was seen except Potter's bobbing head in Lupin's lap. Once they were done, he rushed to the Great Hall so he'd arrive before they did.There was no use in being caught in his stalkees. ..l.. ..l.. ..l.. ..l.. ..l.. The week continued on in a similar fashion, with Harry winning their bet. They had, in fact, caught Snape watching them twenty-one times. That meant they caught him watching all three times each day for seven days. Remus was a little surprised, as Harry didn't point the man out every time they were together normally and sometimes he didn't smell or hear the man himself. But, he'd seen the man all twenty-one times, so he agreed that Harry won their bet.A day was set: Tuesday.A time was set: evening, after dinner.A place was set: the empty classroom nearest the DADA classroom.A plan was set: they'd start off with kissing, and then they'd re-enact Harry's fantasy from the Occlumency lesson with Severus. They'd play it up a bit, of course. Add a few details here and there, and a little more of this and that. For Harry and Remus' benefit. Just because Snape would be stuck the the wall watching them...Harry could barely contain his excitement, or his prick. He was always aroused, waiting for the day and the time to come so he could catch Snape in his 'secret stalking mission'. Boy, was the potions professor in for the shock of his life!Finally, finally, the day came. Remus had to keep Harry in bed for most of the day, busy with sex naturally, to keep him mind off that night. He didn't think he was succeeding all that much, but he was keeping the younger man from ruining their plans. The last few times Snape had caught them, they'd been very tame sessions: chaste kissing, holding hands, hugging. They could sense Snape's frustration with their more innocent rendezvous as of lately.“O-okay, Harry,” Remus panted, laying on the younger's back out of breath and energy. “We need to get up, take a shower, and go to dinner. We haven't been out of these rooms all day. I'm sure everyone's worried about us. Nothing else can happen until after dinner, or I won't have the energy to keep up with the game. Is that understood? The shower is going to be just a shower.”“Can I still wash your back?” Harry panted.“Of course. But have I made myself clear? No sex, Harry, until after dinner.” He slowly moved himself off of Harry and then off the bed, then reached a hand out to help the younger professor up. “Come on,” he murmured. “Let's get a shower and get to dinner before someone comes pounding on my door.”They slowly limped their way into the bathroom where Remus started a shower for them, and then helped Harry under the spray. Both moaned at the sensation of the water hitting their abused bodies. Remus handed the shampoo bottle to Harry, taking the soap and cloth for himself. After a few minutes, they switched and Harry was allowed to wash Remus' back.“Harry,” Remus half-growled. “I said nothing more than showering was allowed.”“I'm just helping you wash,” Harry replied with an innocent lilt to his voice. “Sometimes you just can't reach back here, and it's important that you be clean. How many times have you told me that, Remus?”“I said you could wash my back, not my arse. I think you need to be punished.” The gleam in his eye as he looked over his shoulder made Harry shiver. He dropped the cloth and blushed furiously. “Tonight. I think I'll make it part of our little show. Get out of the shower now. We need to get to dinner.” He shut off the water and quickly moved into the bedroom to get dressed... lest he take Harry himself. Damn dinner, and damn Severus Snape's punishment! ..l.. ..l.. ..l.. ..l.. ..l.. “Ah! Off again, so soon, Remus? You were late to dinner and now you're running off again. Something important to do?” Albus asked, arching one eyebrow in question with a smile.“Um, yes. Something. To do.” He was flustered and red as he quickly left the table with Harry following closely behind. Shortly after the pair had cleared the Great Hall's enormous doors, Remus rounded on Harry and shoved him against a wall. Groping hands, thrusting hips, and panting breaths were all that were on their minds.A brief thought entered Remus' mind several moments later, one that was merely subconscious. He pulled away from his young lover, his eyes amber and flashing. No words were needed. Just a look. Harry stumbled along behind Remus, eagerly awaiting whatever it was Remus would do next. All thoughts about their plans were gone; in their place were thoughts on the here-and-now.A few more places along the way, they had to stop because they were too anxious and excited to keep their hands off one another. But finally, finally, they reached the classroom they'd previously decided to use for this particular night. The room had already been warded and charmed for what they needed. Remus tried to keep his mind about him so he could correctly orchestrate the evening's activities.However, it appeared he didn't need to keep his mind about him. Thank Merlin, because a horny, sexy Harry was a very hard thing to divide attention from. Backing Harry against the table, Remus only had one thought in mind. That thought wasn't closing the door, or strengthening the muffling charms, or trying to be even remotely gentle. He wasn't paying attention to anything other than Harry.Which allowed the next part of their plan to fall directly into place. Severus Snape, using all his skills as a spy, had followed the pair straight into the classroom. He didn't understand his obsession with watching the pair. It was almost as if there was a force compelling him to follow them. He'd been frustrated this last week with just how tame the pair had suddenly become. He knew there was something going on, and he needed to figure it out.So there he was, watching his back and his front in case someone were to come upon him. He didn't want to be interrupted, and he didn't want to be sidetracked.“Merlin, Harry!” came a harsh whisper. Snape froze, then continued on in his mission.“Don't stop!” was a whine, higher pitched than the speaker's original voice.Crouching at the partially opened doorway the two Gryffindors were currently behind, he could see very little of them. He needed to get closer! Inching the door open, he felt the wards and charms about the room. It took mere moments to de-ward the room against people entering, and to strengthen the silencing charms over the whole of the room. In addition to Remus' wards, for they were surely created by the elder Gryffindor and not the younger, Snape added personal silencing charms to better hide his presence in the room.Feeling better about his concealed identity, Snape moved further into the room and found a place to stay out of the way that would provide a clear view of the pair currently embracing in a heated kiss. Several moments later, their heated embrace slowly turned more and more heated, and less about embracing. Remus was slowly removing Harry's clothing, being very meticulous about touching every available inch of skin as it was revealed.“Tease... bloody... tease!” Harry panted, writing on the desk he lay on. “Just do it! Fuck me! Please, just fuck me!” He seemed to be two steps shy of sobbing his pleas.“Wait, Harry,” Remus soothed. “You'll just have to wait for the right time.”“The right time is now, Remus!” And Snape couldn't agree with him more. Now was as good a time as any. But Remus merely continued on his previously charted path. His goal was to play, to push Harry to his very limit, to punish Severus–Severus. He'd forgotten all about the Slytherin professor. His grin growing, Remus made no move to show that he'd noticed the third member of their party. He quickly stripped Harry, arranging the younger man so he was displayed for Severus' viewing pleasure. Leaning down, Remus whispered in his ear. Seconds later, Harry moaned loudly and arched his back in pure show.“Perfect,” Remus hissed. He meant the show, mostly.Snape shifted in his spot where he hid from the pair. For some reason, the pair had heated things up again after a week long 'abstinence'. He still didn't understand it, but that didn't matter. Remus was removing his own clothing now, surely getting ready for the actual sex of this sexual escapade. He shifted again. More whispering between the two, too quiet for him to hear.The two continued to tease one another for a while longer. It just kept getting more and more heated. He just couldn't take anymore after some time. He moved his robes aside and freed his hard prick. He still didn't understand it! But it was too tempting, too exciting, not to participate in himself. He stroked leisurely, waiting for the right moment take things further.“Are you ready?” Remus murmured.“Yes, please!” came Harry's needy reply. He wasn't so sure what he was replying to, though. Was it a please for Remus to fuck him, or a please for Remus to stick Snape to the wall as punishment for his prying. “Just... please!”Remus leaned down as if to kiss Harry, but grabbed his wand from where he'd placed it on top of his clothing. Slowly, he straightened, trying not the alert Snape. Aiming his wand, he said, “Adhaero!” as if it were the most normal thing in the world to say at that moment. Snape flew from his exposed, in more ways than one, position on the floor to an almost spread-eagle position on the wall. “You know, Severus, we know you've been watching us for days. I didn't believe Harry at first, but it seems he was right. And then we caught you watching us here tonight.”“Just because I am worried about the welfare of the students and professors in this school–”“Bullshite, Severus!” Remus snapped. “You want to watch Harry and me. You want to see this,” he waved a hand down his body and then gestured over to Harry who was still writhing on the table, “and it kills you that you can't. When you learned that Harry wanted me and you saw that fantasy in his head, it got to you. And you haven't been able to do a damn thing about it. The problem with watchers, Severus, is that they eventually become participants. And I. Don't. Share.”Remus' eyes flashed amber for a brief moment as he stared his colleague down. A silent conversation took place then, with Harry whimpering and writhing all the while behind the werewolf. After several silent moments, Remus smirked. “However, Harry has expressed a wish to have a watchful participant. While I was, at first, hesitant, my mind has been changed. And you've so readily presented yourself...”“You can't do this.”“Oh, but I can, Severus. You see, you've been stalking Harry and me. You've been watching Harry and me. You followed us tonight, hid in this room, and planned on bringing yourself off with neither of us the wiser. What you didn't know was that we had wards in place on this room to alert us the second you stepped in. We had all the usual wards, the ones we knew you'd look for and dismantle. But we also-”“Stop talking, start fucking!” Harry keened. Both older men looked over at the young Gryffindor lying on the table to see him with bent knees and feet flat on the smooth surface, three fingers moving swiftly in and out of his own arse, sweat pouring down the flushed face, and eyes clenched tightly closed. “Please, Remus! I need you, right now!”“Oh, Harry,” Remus whispered. He turned from his colleague and moved to Harry as if possessed. And who's to say he wasn't? Quickly, he was on the table above his young lover, pressing kisses to his face and mouth while his fingers replaced Harry's. “You're just too impatient, aren't you? You won't even let me finish chastising Severus for being a voyeur. But that's not what you want, is it?” He positioned himself so his cock was at Harry's entrance before slowly pushing in. “This is, though. This is exactly what you want, what you've always wanted. Since you were in Hogwarts no doubt.”Remembering that this was as much a show for Severus as it was about satisfying Harry, Remus gathered his lover's hands above his head and firmly held them there, causing Harry to stretch slightly to accommodate the silent request. “All you want is to be thrown around and fucked within an inch of your life. It's not too hard to allow, you know. You are utterly fuckable. However, there is the point of your punishment.”“P-punishment?” came two voices, both Harry's and Severus'.“Oh yes,” Remus said, continuing thrusting into the younger man as he spoke. “You see, Harry and I were taking a purely chaste shower before dinner when Harry's hands started to roam. I'd already told him that wasn't allowed, but he tried anyways. I warned him I would punish him tonight for that. I should really do that now.”In the blink of an eye, Remus had pulled out of Harry and was standing beside the desk. It took Harry several seconds to realize that his lover was gone. But when he did, he was very unhappy. Severus watched, dying with anticipation for what the werewolf would do next. He didn't have long to wait. A mere wave of his hand and Lupin displayed his talent in wandless magic. At first, he was unsure what had been done. Then, the younger Gryffindor answered his questions for him.Potter gave a high-pitched whine. “The cockring?! You're going to torture me with the cockring?! Oh, Remus, please! Please, don't! I'll do anything, anything you want. Just not this. I want to come. So bad! I need to come. I need you to make me. Please, please. Take it off?”Still, Lupin didn't say anything. He merely pointed. And, apparently, Potter didn't need to be 'told' what to do when ordered. As quickly as his spasming body could, he moved and knelt in front of Lupin. Severus' jaw dropped and his eyes widened exponentially.“You've trained him to be your bitch?!” he yelped.“Oh, Harry's much more than my bitch, aren't you, Harry?”“Please, Remus, please. Anything, anything at all. Just not this. You know what it does to me.”“Yes,” the werewolf answered with a grin. “Yes, I do. I've already decided we're going to re-enact that little fantasy you had that started all of this. So, how does it all start, Harry? Where do we go from here?”With a moan, Harry's chin dropped to his chest and a hand began furiously pumping his hard shaft.“You see, Severus. He's not my submissive. He's too wild for that. I doubt there's a soul in all of time that could train him properly. That's why he gets the cockring. This would all be over in moments if it were up to him. What's next, Harry?”“You... you had your clothes on. I was on my back, on the desk. You took me, with spells, on the desk. You were... you were holding me down. But I was thrashing. Please, Remus, please let me come!”“On the desk with you, on your back.” Another show of wandless magic and Remus had his clothing back on. He'd left the robe on the floor, as well as his shoes and socks. Manually unfastening his trousers, Lupin moved closer to what could only be described as his prey. “What now, Harry?”“Oh, Goddess!” came the laboured response. “L-lubing and... and stretching spe-ells. And... and then fucking. And then coming, and then sleeping, and then more fucking. Lots of fucking. Any way. Here, or in the bed, or on the floor, or against the wall. On my back or on my knees. In the water or in the garden. I don't care, just please fuck me!”“I will. Are you watching, Severus? Watch, because this is the last time you'll ever see this body displayed for you. This is the last time you'll get to see me fuck,” Lupin thrust into Potter, causing the younger to scream just as he had in the fantasy Severus had seen, “his tight arse. And it is a tight arse, Severus.” He took a few moments to savour the feel before starting a harsh rhythm.And they were off. Lupin standing in front of the desk with Potter's legs around his waist, clothes on, driving back and forth as harsh as possible without hurting Potter. The only thing missing was...“Don't forget to hold him down,” he whispered.“What was that, Severus?” Lupin panted out, never ceasing his movements.“If this is the fantasy... you're supposed to hold him down.” He was so turned on by what he was seeing. He'd never thought himself a voyeur before. Not even after he'd started stalking and watching the couple. This was such a private act he was witnessing. And yet, he couldn't look away.“Of course. Thank-you for reminding me, Severus.” Lupin instantly fixed the situation, gathering Potter's hands just above the younger's head and forcing them to stay there, and then using his other hand to hold Potter's waist. There was some noticeable force used in this act. They weren't too far from the full moon of the month; only about a week off.Now it looked almost exactly like the fantasy he'd seen in Potter's head during that ill-fated Occlumency lesson. Remus Lupin fucking Harry Potter over a desk, holding him down, with most of his own clothing on while Potter was completely starkers.The only noticeable difference was that Potter was not crying out in ecstasy like he had been in the... Oh. The cockring. Potter wasn't physically able to orgasm. That must have been so horrible, so torturous. Frankly, he didn't know how Potter could stand it.“Remus! Remus, take it off!” Potter demanded suddenly. “Take it off, please take it off! I need to come. I need to come! Please!”“You're... fine, Harry,” Remus bit out between clenched teeth. It was obvious the werewolf was close to orgasm himself.“No! Now! Please, Remus please! It's starting to hurt! You've got to take it off.”“Ah, so now we get to the real problem. I was wondering when that would finally come up.”“Remus, please!”“Not yet, not yet.” Again, in silence, the pair continued their animalistic rutting on the desk.And Severus was so turned on. He knew he'd been spelled with more than just the sticking charm. There was some sort of magical cockring on him as well because he knew he'd have already come by now if it were possible. The scene before him was just too stimulating. The material he'd have he could use for months! His prick was so hard, he thought he'd explode with or without the magical inhibitor.“God damn you, Remus Lupin! Let me come right now or I'll kill you myself!”“Not yet, Harry.”“I'm not playing around anymore! Let me come!”Lupin didn't even respond this time, he was too caught up in his own pleasure. Because of this fact, it took the older Gryffindor several moments to realize that Potter's magic was flaring around him, leaking out as he became more and more emotionally unstable. However, to his credit, Lupin did take the cockring off as soon as he noticed the magic.He leaned over to the side of Harry's head. “Now, Harry,” he whispered so that Snape couldn't hear. “Come now, my love.”And the command, or was it a request?, worked. Harry was arching as far as his back would allow... and then some. It was completely silent, unlike the last half hour had been. Remus only lasted a few more thrusts himself. Then there were a few moans, some groans, and a lot of panting.“Severus,” came a few minutes later. “You tell a soul what you've seen this night, and I'll conveniently forget my wolfsbane one time and spend the night in your rooms. I'll feel no remorse, and no regret. What Harry doesn't know is that I've recorded this whole night on a memory cube. I'll replay it for the Board of Governors should I even think I hear something on the wind of this night. Do I make myself clear?”Snape quickly agreed, noticing that Harry was unconscious beneath his lover. As soon as he agreed, he felt the magical restriction around his prick disappear and he came suddenly.“That, too, is on the memory cube. I will not have my personal life bandied about.”Slowly and cautiously, Remus gathered Harry in his arms and made sure they were properly covered and able to leave. As slow as possible, so he didn't jostle the abused body of his lover too much, he moved them back to Remus' suite of rooms. As he moved through the doorway, Harry awoke just enough to ask, “Did you threaten him into silence enough to satisfy your wolf?”“Yes, Harry. Go to sleep. You did so well tonight, love. Thank-you.”“No, thank-you. I know you're not for being watched, but thanks. Let's sleep through the next moon, agreed?”“You know you can't go that long without me pounding your arse. Go to sleep, Harry. I'll be here when you wake-up tomorrow.” He kissed him lightly on the lips, then lay him in the bed. ..l.. ..l.. ..l.. ..l.. ..l.. A/N: Again, it didn't end like I had originally thought/planned. sigh Whatever. Was this an acceptable sequel to “The Truth Shall Set Us Free”? I had to force a few parts out, so let me know what you think, okay? No holds barred; give me the hard truth, okay? -dpa06-
10081811	Comfort of an Older	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Jai Brooks, Luke Brooks, Beau Brooks", "Fandom": "Janoskians", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Rawrlove19", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-04T00:00:00", "words": "882", "Additional Tags": "Depression, self hate, Twins, older brother, Comfort, Brotherly Love", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Inner Demons", "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 }	"Luke for the millionth time, just leave me alone! You can't fix me. I'm impossible to fix. I should of never told you anything." Jai shouted at his twin brother. Luke ran out of the room in tears. It absolutely tore him apart to see his twin brother like this. His tears were clouding his vision to the extent that he didn't even realize someone was in front of him until he ran into the person and knocked both of them over. "Luke? Are you okay?" Beau asked his little brother in concern. "Yes. I mean no. It's just...Jai. I don't know what to do with him. I think your idea of showering him in love has done more harm than good.""Yeah that probably wasn't the best idea. He's always been kind of shy so I bet all of the attention is killing him. I'll talk to him, so don't worry."Beau sighed and made his way to Jai's room. Knocking on the door first, he slowly entered his youngest brother's room."Jai, mind if we talk for a bit?" Beau asked carefully."Umm I guess.""I just wanted to apologize. I've basically neglected you for years and I'm sorry for that. I should have-""Beau just stop!" Jai harshly demanded. "I get it. Luke told you that I'm depressed and now you feel guilty. It's not your fault, and to be honest I'm not really depressed. I told Luke a secret and he didn't agree with it. That's no reason for you to feel guilty.""You told Luke that it was impossible for someone to love you. No non-depressed person feels that way! I know I haven't been the best big brother, but I love you so much that hurts just knowing that you feel that way. I've let you down and I'm sorry.""We'll have you ever considered that maybe I don't want your love?" Jai asked."What do you mean?" Beau stared at his brother with a feeling of dread settling inside his stomach. Sometimes, Jai could say things that downright terrified him. That was another failure on his part. Jai said dark, twisted things that only someone truly depressed could think of, but he didn't even give those things a second thought."Whenever someone tells me they love me, they either die or leave me some other way. I prefer them to die though, because when they just leave I know it's because I wasn't worth their time." Jai chuckled humorlessly before tears formed in his eyes."Jai," Beau said carefully, "Why is it so hard for you to believe that people love you?""Because how are people supposed to love me when I can't even love myself, Beau. Everyone expects me to be the perfect twin, and then there's Luke who is perfect at nearly everything he does. I can't compete with that.""You don't have to. Luke is far from perfect. You two may be twins, but your strengths and weaknesses are completely different. You're more athletic than he is. You're more committed and you're far kinder than he could ever be.""But-""That doesn't mean I'm putting Luke down. He's more out going and headstrong than you are. You can be very shy at times and that's something he's never really had to deal with. What I'm trying to say is that neither of you are perfect twins. You both have bad qualities and good qualities, they're just different. Accept yourself for who you are, Jai. We do, so who cares what the haters have to say?""It's not about the haters. It's not." Jai started to cry openly now. "I honestly hate myself, Beau. I'm so insecure and I just...""Do you know what I see when I look at you?" Beau smiled, "I see my youngest brother Jai. I see someone who likes to hide himself from the world, but the very people he hides from can't help but to respect him once they get a glimpse. I see someone who is strong and brave and someone whom I'm proud to call my little brother. You need to love yourself, Jai. We all love you, so don't keep putting yourself through this."Jai's eyes widened further and further, the longer Beau spoke. He had no idea his brother felt that way. It was time, he decided, to make a change. He hurriedly left the room to find Luke."Luke?" Jai called knocking on his twin's bedroom door before walking inside. Luke immediately sat up on his bed and wiped the tears off his face."Hey what's up, Jai." Luke said cheerily, trying to make it seem like he hadn't just been crying. Jai wordlessly walked over to the bed and enveloped Luke in a tight hug. "Jai?""I'm sorry." Jai breathed. " I'm sorry. I've been so selfish. I just focus on my faults that I don't even realize how I affect you.""It's okay. You're depressed. You don't mean anything.""Being depressed is not an excuse to hurt someone without caring. I don't know if I can ever love myself again, but I'm ready to let other people in and stop focusing on my problems. Life is too short to make that mistake." Luke just smiled and held his twin tighter.
10095887	Changing HeartsChanging	{ "Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Draco Malfoy, Albus Dumbledore, Hermione Granger, Pansy Parkinson, Ron Weasley, Blaise Zabini", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by MistressofDisaster", "chapters": "6/6", "completed": "", "published": "2006-05-18T00:00:00", "words": "7,379", "Additional Tags": "Explicit Language, Sexual Content, Drama, First Time, Humor, Parody, Hurt/Comfort, Romance", "Relationship": "Harry Potter/Severus Snape", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "HPFandom", "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 }	Changing Hearts , Changing Friends , Changing Houses (english)Autor:MistressofDisasterPairing : Harry SnapeDisclaimer : Nothing´s mine , I make no money with it Rating: MVWarnings : You`ll see muahahahaha Nono just a joke . Only one thing should be said , to those ,who don`t like Slytherin :Sodd off this story isn`t for you !! But who hates Pansy as much as I do defenitly has to read the last chap.Chapter 1Sweet Dreams are made of...What?Gentle hands were touching his face, drawing soft lines.He closed his eyes. They were moving along his jaw and then his neck and suddenly they grabbed him with force , but he knew they wouldn`t harm him . Then they tore his robes open and left him naked on the sheets. They stroked in a feathery touch along his chest and once in a time let him cry out in lust when they paied attention to his nipples. He was squirming but he couldn`t move any more. Now there were those burning lips occupying the lower parts of his body.Moaning loudly he pressed his head so hard into the sheets one could think he wanted to smother himself with it ! He felt hot , hotter than he ever had felt in his whole life however his body was shaking with arousal and tense anticipation.He lifted his head to see the face of his torturer who gave him this bittersweet feelings.He opened his eyes and saw ...... With a small cry Harry jerked awake.His braething was harsh and sweat was dripping over his face.What kind of dream had that been ? He was well aware of his dreams with man he often had . They always had sexual content mostly but he never dreamt of .....of HIM ( No not He who must not be named I am sick but not that sick . I only like the pairing with Tom !)That was so sick sick sick! He flopped back onto the bed and sighed heavily .„Something`s wrong with me ! The man who tries to make my life hell of all people is turning me on ?!“ He closed his eyes and rolled on his side , that was when he realized he was painfully hard.„No that`s not true . Not that too. I thought I was out of that age“ With another sigh he stood and left for the bathroom. Sleep wasn`t to come anytime soon.The only good thing was he didn`t have to worry about his nightly activities , cause he got a room for himself this year, but the rest of his so hoped for nightly rest , he could forget about that.The next morning they sat at breakfast in the great hall . Harry like every other student looked up when the door banged open and Snape with his always sunny mood entered . But he couln`t tear his eyes off him! This man was fascinating him .This dark mystierious flare , the selfconcious unbreakable air , the chosen words that made him seem so superior in some situations. Besides Harry had to admit that during their missions for Dumbledore they had developed some kind of respect for one another. What meant Snape stooped his sniding remarks and Harry watched his temper. He watched the man interested , untill Ron gave him a push in the ribs.„Hey Harry don`t stare at him with that grim look on your face , our first lesson is potions! If he notices this he will only humiliate you more!“Harry as fast as he could tore his eyes away , shocked that he had stared at Snape , but it seemed as if the man had also noticed and shot him a glare.Not even that bothered Harry anymore , in contrary his eyes fascinated Harry with their hidden flames„ Great job mate now we will lose only more points“Hermione grumbled.Harry preferred to ignore her and rather stared at his plate to hide the blush that formed on his cheeks when Snape had looked at him.He couldn`t eat anything now , so he made an excuse about forgetting something in the tower and left. He passed the halls without any particular aim. Eventually he sat on a windowsill and looked outside. There were so many things on his mind. Ron and Herm had to have noticed his change in behaviour. Should he come out to them about being gay ?He didn`t know. And then there was Snape , why eas Harry feeling these things in his company ? And why these dreams ? He began to doubt his own mind. Okay he was gay and he had to admit that Snape ...irritated him and how he realized last night even aroused him. But liking him? He called himself a fool. Allright one doesn`t wake up in the middle of the night with a painfull erection ,the reason a dream about a man whom one doesn`t like ?! But why now , why so suddenly? Or had this need for the former enemy always been there only that Harry didn`t want to admit it? Dosen`t matter what reason that man turned him on to no end !And as long as there wasn`t more he had no problem only that his hands would be bussy more often at night and he had to pay attention not to make the wrong comments when he talked to Snape. There wasn`t more right? No ! Of course not, but why .......... Totally drowning in his thoughts Harry never noticed when the first lesson began and when herelised it he was almost 15 minutes too late!„Damn! He`ll kill me !“ He jumped to his feet and ran down to the dungeons. Without knocking he stormed into the room and drew all eyes on him . Snape`s too , what made him blush immediatly. Hoping that no one had realised he made a few more steps into the room. „Ahh Mr. Potter so you do think it appropriate to honor me with your presence in my class? We`ll talk about this after class. Sit down and don`t you dare to speak if your not asked to am I understood Potter?“ Harry lowered his head , so he didn`t have to look into the face that had been haunting him the whole day . His hormones playing rollercoaster during Snape`s class was one thing Harry declined. „Yes Sir“ His head still lowered he sat down on his desk . He got a „ I´ve warned you look „ from Hermione and an amicable look from Ron, then he let his attention go back to Snape`s class , what meant for him seeing the man the whole time . He let his eyes wander over Snapes figure. The long black hair , the dark bewitching eyes , die schmalen Lippen and the long slender neck that ended in his black robes clinging to his lean body.Suddenly there was the thought how Snape might look without his robes . Completly without anything but his skin. Lost in his thought Harry didn`t notice how he added the comletly wrong ingredient until it gave a loud explosion in front of him and he was thrown of his chair. When he was halfway on his feet again he saw Snapes scowling face over him. For one brief second he had thought he saw worry in his eyes , but it was gone as fast as it came. With a deadly look he said :„After class Potter!“The rest of the lesson went by without any accidents and when the bell rang all students stormed out of the room except for Harry`Oh my god , oh my god , oh my god......Don`t blush , don`t stammer don`t think about the things you just thought about....OH GOD!`He stood and walked to Snapes desk . He waited until the man looked up at him .„Potter.What shall I do to you?“he sighed and Harry shuddered . He had a few ideas what Snape could do to him but he doubted that he mean that . Involuntarily he began grinning..„Something funny Mr. Potter?“Harry looked up in shock and the grin died away. He had to quell the urge to slap his hand against his forehead.„Nothing ,sir. I`m sorry sir.“`Bad Harry really really bad Harry !!`chasing away the pictures from his mind he watched as the anger on Snape`s features slowly disappeared.„I hope so ! And now back to topic.“He looked at Harry making a serious face . His eyes were without the hatred they usually carried.„Rellay I`m running out of ideas ! Do you really want me to get you thrown out of the school in your last year? I think Neither you endured my presence nor did I yours in the last few years for you to risk that now. Collect yourself a bit if possible. And now your punishment. Come to my office at 8 pm.. You can go now.“ Harry stared at him in disbelieve. No yelling no hatred no mean words? What was up with this man ? „Professor are you ok?“Shit! Harry wanted to bite his toungue that moment he said this. Snape looked up in wonder. „Typically Potter worrying about everyone if it is of his interest or not ! Yet thank you Potter I`m fine . Go now or you`ll be late . And don`t get lost!“ Now Harry was completely irritated. That had sounded serious.But maybe he was just too tired to make a difference between sarcasm and seriousness. Although his irritation he made his way to the door. Bevore he knew what he did he turned around and said: „Professor I......“Yes what did he want to say ? He shook his head and ran away .What should he have said? Maybe „Hey Snape allthought you have the reputation of a student eating beast I like your ass!“ ? Right ! Than he could just walk up to the Headmaster and ask to get expelled. Tbc.....And How did you like it? My first chap translated !Pleaes C&C ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 2 Dream on oder Someone to catch you if you fallIt was late in the evening.Ten minutes before 8 o`clok harre got ready to make his way to Snape´s office , his friends claiming their pitty . He however wasn`t in a bad mood .In contrary he had that funny feeling in his stomach , like a fourteen jear old boy on his first date . (A/N not that I´d know how a 14 year old boy would feel on his first date * g*) `stupid `he thought. He knocked on the door and was allowed to enter after a few seconds. He looked around in suprise , being here for the first time. Everything was made of dark wood and with the fire that lit the room ,this place was nearly cosy.„Ah Potter. I see you can be on time.You´ll bring this bookshelf into alphabetical order. A ladder is already set. “ Harry nodded and went to work .Snape sat before the fire reading some potions book .After some time Harry caught himself watching his professor and he let his thoughts continue where they had stopped earlier that day. He imagined Snape walking through teh door at the other side of the room and how he would slowly strip. He thought went on and on and suddenly he was back in his dream , but this time he knew the other person and that only heightened his lust. Oh my god he coudn´t let his thoughts go on like this , cause if he did the ladder wouldn´t be the only thing to stand, in this room!Suddenly Snape´s voice ripped him away from his thoughts . He had watched the boy several minutes and after Harry had glared at the innocent wall for over 5 minutes he thought he should talk to the boy.„You are not here to glare holes through my walls Potter .“ Startled Harry made an incautious movement and lost his balance. He fell and strained his muscles , cause he counted on a hard impact , but it never came. Instead he found himself in Snape´s arms.The room was dead silent. One could only hear the rustling of the flames.Green orbs met black depths . Snape´s breath caressed his lips and made him shudder. But just before one of the could do what each wanted to this moment , Snape set Harry down again and whispered in a rough voice „You should be more carefull with yourself Harry.“He straightened up and then said louder this time „You may go now Mr. Potter , before you break your neck in my office and it´s my fault that our world looses ist wonder boy.“ What? Had Harry misunderstood something? Had Snape just said what he thought or `Arrghh I´m slowly becoming paranoid!`„Professor! I.....“„ Go now Potter it is late already!“Just before Harry left the room he said„Thank you Sir ,for today also as for then!“Even more irritate than this afternoon Harry ran back to his Tower. His friends immediatly wanted to know what happened but he told them he was tired and would tell them tomorrow. What had that been? This tension between them that nearly overtuned the flames, Snape´s hand slightly shaking and lingering a bit longer than necessaryly on his hips. Snape´s breath that touched his lips and was so near him that their lips were nearly touching.Snape´s eyes that seemed to burn if only for a moment and Snapes furious heartbeat that he could feel when he searched support on his chest.He couldn´t just have imagined all that , could he?With hte conviction that he would spend most of the night in the bathroom , again, Harry sighed and lay down to sleep , at least for a few hours. The next day they had freetime and Hermione persisted on them going to the library . Now that they were sitting around one table together Ron began again „Now will you tell me already . What did the greasy git make you do?“What Ron did not know , was that this greasy git was just around the corner and could hear everything he said.`Ah yes the report , lets see what vulgarities the boy will add.´ Snape listened interestedHarry rolled his eyes enerved.. Did Ron again want to start this?!„Nothing special. Just arranging books.“Harry just shrugged.„Wouldn´t have thought so! I rather thought he would send you into the forbidden forest and would hope for you to never return. That asshole he is.“Snape had to stiffle a snort.`No Harry he would never send there but Weasley if he wasn´t carefull with his words.“Harrys thoughts went equal ways.„Ron!That´s rubbish! Don´t you think we are old enough now to stop things like that?“` Oh listen to that Potter is talking words of common sense! ´„What things and why are you defending that git?“ `Well some of them grow up and other stay dumb the rest of their lifes.´ „I´m talking about the fact that we are old enough to know better that talking bad about people we don´t really know.And I do not defend him I just think everyone deserves a bit of respect and he has deserved mine in every case . I can´t count the times he saved me and my life . And yours too remember?“ Harry looked at Ron his face serious and Ron looked back at him shocked.Snape who had heard everything was amazed how high Harry thought of him. Suddenly there was the sound of a chair hitting the floor and Ron stood with his hands curled into fists across from Harry„What did this son of a bitch do to you? Why are you suddenly talking so much bullshit? Did he hex you , or what?“Harry looked at him in disbelieve. And Snape thought this the rigth time to interrupt.„I can assure you Mr. Weasley neither did I do anything to your friend nor did I hex him.“„You....“Snape arched an eyebrow and looked at him questioningly „Yes Mr. Weasley ?“„What did you disgusting old git do to him? Is that meant to be the late revenge on Harry´s dad? Did you cast Imperio on him? Doesn´t it suffice that you killed his parent you sick bastard of a Death Eater?!“ Ron was far gone in his fury , he would even attack Snape in this moment ! But just before Snape had to defend himself Harry had interfered and had slapped Ron across the cheek. „ Damn it Ron! Grow up for heaven´s sake!And leave my parents alone with your outbursts.“ Ron looked irritate and while he rubbed his slapped cheek he glared at Snape then at Harry then back at Snape. Then he left together with an totally confused Hermione. Now it was only Snape and himHarrycouldn´t look Snape in the eyes.He knew the man had heard everything and that he knew how high he thought of him.OK he didn´t know excactly how high he really thought of him but he knew a lot and that was enough to make Harry blush a deep red. „Sir I.......I....“ Snape could see in Harry´s face that the boy knew he had hear everything and thet this incident was really embarassing for the boy. Then he would have made fun of the situation andwould have teased Harry with it but now he felt only pity for the shy boy in front of him. And somehow this childish naivety that made him stumble over his words nearly held something ....cute even if Severus would never admit that not even under Veritaserum.So he said soothingly „Leave it Potter.“Harry gave him a thankfull smile that made his heart beat faster in his chest.„He will apologize today Sir.And Sir?“ Snape was still to confused to answer so he just made a questioning face.„I know you did everything you could to help my parents and I know you protected me then! Therefor thanks!“With this said Harry left the room and left a totally perplexed Severus Snape. He knew? How could Harry .....No how could Potter know about the protection charm? Dumbledore? No. The man told the boy less than nothing.But how elseTbc........And how was it? Please R&R ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 3We all knew it : Potions are dangerous „RON!!!“Harry stomped into Gryffindor commonroom furiously. Ron and Hermoine were talking on the couch when he came in. When he saw Harry he glared back for a seconde but then his look changed into confusion. „What the hell was up with you there , mate? That were not you!“„That is what I should ask you idiot! Do you even know of all the things you accused him.And everything was wrong!“Ron got got angry again. But before he was able to blow up again Hermoine interrupted.„Harry is right!“Ron turned around in shock .„WHAT?“„He is right Ronald.You were not right to blame him for the things you did. Even if he is Snape! You should apologize.“She looked seriously at him and Ron´s gaze wandered between her and his best friend. Harry only nodded in agreement. Good. Hermione had saved him a load of work.„I...I....shell go to Snape .......and ...and ..apologize? You two can´t be serious whit that , can you?“ „Yes we can and we are! And you will , tonight!“Ron looked at Harry as if he´d grown a seconde head.„He is going to kill me , you know?“„No he isn´t , but you can be happy if he we won´t lose all of our housepoints. And even if we do I really have to say this time I´d understand .“He glared at Ron . He could really understand the man , all in all Ron had called him a criminal twice , even if he didn´t do directly. It was night. Dinner was already over and Snape had almost immediatly fled to his office.He still had to make this potion for Dumbledore but it just wouldn´t work.He didn´t make any progress.He had to think about what Harry had said all the time. Where did he know it from. And.. had the boy really blushed?? He did notice the reaction but....directed at him? Maybe he had just imagined it. It had to be imagination. Completly absorbed in his thought Snape never noticed when he totally overdosed the ingredient he was throwing into the potion. And suddenly there was a loud explosion. The last thing he saw bevor he lost conciousness , was when his door opened and Potter and the Weasleyboy came in. Harry and Ron were just at the top of the staircase leading down into the dungeons when they heard the explosion. Harry ran almost immediatly to Snape´s office while Ron at first only stood and stared before he also began to run.When Harry opened the door he was shocked when he saw Snape leaning against the wall and a small trail of blood trickled down his lips.What worried him more was the injurie on the back of Snape´s head that had coloured the wall and was now leaving a puddle of blood on the floor.„Oh my God!“That was the only thing he managed to say before he ran over to him , kneeled beside him and felt for his pulse.Ron still stood thunderstruck in the door until Harry screamed at him.„Damnit RON! What are you waiting for? Get Poppy and hurry !“ Ron was away and Harry sat trembling on the floor Snape in his arms. If the situation hadn´t been so serious it would have been a sight to laugh. Well maybe rather to smile Harry thought.He bent over to look into the man´s face . He had to smile when he realised how nice the man looked when he wasn´t frowning or sneering or...well when his features were relaxed. But suddenly it occured to him that if they couldn´t help him fast enough he would look like this forever! He tried to wake him up but to no avail.„Professor wake up ! Please . Professor Snape can you hear me??“He became more and more despaired. The man wasn´t making any signs of life.If he wasn´t breathing Harry had thought he was dead. At this thought he had to swallow down his tears . He took Snapes hand in his and squeezed lightly but the reaction he hoped for never came.„Please wake up....“ he whispered againn tears in his eyes. This moment the door opened and Poppy ,Dumbledore and Ron entered the room.„What happened?“She immediatly began scanning Snape for injuries. Harry hurried to look away when she opened Snape´s shirt and he blushed.„I don´t know . When we were coming down here we heard an explsion and the we found him here like this.“„Good . We take him to the hospital wind now.You two are going back to your dorm.“She levitated Snape and went back to the hospital wing with Dumbledore.Harry watched them leave with a worried look on his face.Normally he would have asked if he could accompie them but that would have been considered odd in this case.so he went back to his dorm with Ron. What didn´t mean he could calm down! „Harry sit down you are driving me crazy with all that pacing!“Hermoine looked at him half pleading half threatening.„What?“ he asked while he continued to pace.„I wonder if he woke ? what do you think?“„It is enough! I can´t stand this anymore. You´re acting like he had been your best friend or something like that. You´re driving me insane with that ! I´ll go to bed now ! Good night!“Ron slammed the door shut and Harry looked to Hermoine for help , but she just shrugged and looked at him apologetically. „Somehow he is right Harry And I think it would be best for for you to go to sleep now too.“With that Hermione left him sitting in the common room.„Maybe they are right!“`You know they are not!` whispered that little nasty voice in his head. But he just quieted it with an ennerved „Shut up!“.Harry sighed and went to his room. This year he had gotten his own he didn´t know why . He stripped and went to bed.When sleep finally found him it didn´t last long nor was it refreshing. The voices in his head never went away. He cried out .God that was just too good to bear.Hge gripped the shoulders of his partner and cried his orgasm to the stars..„Aaaahhh Severus please ....I.....god...I.....aaahhhhhhh....hhhhaaahhh!“He lay moaning in Severus arms and tried to deal with the aftershocks of his orgasm. „I love you do you know that?“A deep kiss.But then. „Severus?“„Where are you?“„Severus!“Harry looked around.All around him was all plain darkness. And a lifeless body that faded away when he tried to near him . „Severus nooo!“ With a crie of horror he awoke.He had to see Snape.Now. Quietly he searched for his invisibility cloak.He sneaked outside and to the infirmary.Quietly he opened the door and looked for Snape.He seemed to be the only patient .He sat down on the edge of the bed.Carefully he took off the hood. He was still not awake.Harry brushed away the fringes from Snape´s forehead. He looked so peacefull.Then he began sobbing , silently, but he broke down on the sheets . What if he wouldn´t wake up again? NEVER? ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 4Out of reality and „Out of my head!“`Severus...`Severus```SEVERUS!`Who was that?And why was he attempting to wake him? He should leave him alon , he wanted to sleep. `Severus Snape would you eventually wake up!´ Slowly he opened his eyes. Everything around him was white . Everything consisted of....clouds??`A fast one eh?´What?Doesn´t matter.Where was he?`You are in a spiritual parallel universe .`„Who...“He looked around searching for the voice that had pulled him so rudely out of his sleep.Who was that?`Don´t ask you wouldn´t get it anyway.`Snape looked again for his talking opponent but he couldn´t find him.Suddenly he heard someone laughing.`Don´t try it you can´t see me . As I said a spiritual universe.You are the only thing made of solid material in here.`„Ok and what am I doing here?“Another laugh.`First thing first. You had an acident.`„I barely remember “`Afterwards you fell into some kind of comatouse state.`„Good . But still that doesn´t explain why I´m here.“`You are here , beacause after ten days you are still wandering the small line between death and life!`„All right . And....?“`Oh you really took that easy !`„I wouldn´t be here if I didn´t have a choice , would I?“`Right.......`„But?“Snape sighed.` But before you can choose you will again be shown the good and the bad sides of your life .Only to make it easyer for you.`„Of course.“`All right then . We will see your past first.`„And if I don´t want to see it ?“ `You will have to , otherwise I can´t accept your decision and you would be stuck here forever. And no offence meant but I could think of a more humorous visitor to talk to.It would be eternety you know!`Snape Threw his arms up in a gesture of giving up.„Okay I will watch but stop talking please!“One could hear an insulted sniffing. `A rude guy you are!`A small screen appeared in front of Snape in the clouds . He saw Snape Manor and then himself in his room. He sat on the windowsill and looked up to the stars when suddenly the door opened.„Again daydreaming son?“Startled the boy looked up to his father.„F....Father...I was ..just...just thinking...I“His father backhanded him and he stumbled on the bed.„You are not to lie to me . And I´ve told you a hundred times to use your time better than that!“„But Father I just....“„WHAT? Are you talking back to me? I will teach you not to...!“He took his wand and suddenly the younger Severus was lying face down on the bed his chest bare and wasn´t able to move.( No rape no incest don´t worry.)„No father please I ...aaaahhhhhhh“His father had taken his belt and was lashing it at the boy in front of him.He didn´t stop until Severu´s back was covered in bloody stripes and the only whimpered . His father just broke into a cruel laughter and looked at him with disgust before he stoped the spell and said Sein „I hope you´ve learned your lesson.Otherwise I will beat it into you until you can´t stand on your feet without screaming from pain.“He hadn´t been lying. The memories were flooding back into his mind but he suppressed the.The picture changed into his school time.He saw the nasty pranks the marauders had played on him and he saw Potter always being better than him and in the end saving his life.He saw the time when Lucius did.....NO! He didn´t want to see that again. He didn´t want to feel the humiliation and the pain again. Again the image changed to present this time.First he saw his time as a spy in Voldermorts inner circle.He saw what horrible things he´d done and what horrible the were done to him to prove his loyalities.The scene went to school.He saw students talkink and heard what they were saying.„Did you hear? Snape didn´t wake up since 10 days.“„Well I don´t think he will ever again!“„So what? I´ve hated that guy since I came here!“„You´re right he was unfair , mean and unstandeble!“„His own fault! Calling himself a potionsmaster and the blowing up his own potion! Can you be that stupid?“„We can be happy if he will never wake up !“„Yeah right!“ What shocked him the most was that even Slytherins had taken place in that conversation!`Well that have been the bad sides of your life now I think the good ones are in order!“„Good ones?? What good ones? Maybe that I´m still alive and therefore have to live a life in the shadows or maybe the fact that I have to spend the rest of my life in this damned castle because otherwise I would be killed by Death Eaters?“ he laughed bitterly.`So you can´t imagine that someone would miss you a lot and is doing so even at the moment?´„Who would be missing me? Potter perhaps beacause he hasn´t got anyone to damn anymore!?“`1.You know better than anyone that this is wrong and 2. Yes Potter is missing you! The little one is secretly crying his eyes out for 10 days now!´Snapes eyes went wide„You can´t be serious!“`I am and I will even show you........´ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 5 Come back to me love The first night,Harry had been there the whole night until he went to class , being tired like hell.The second night he had gone earlier to the hospital wing and sat beside Snape`s bed watching him intensly.Even if he did not have a breakdown like the previous night , but every now and then a few tears slipped down his face. He didn`t want to realize until now but he had fallen in love with this man.The realizaton had hit him like a lightning bolt when he had seen Severus lying on the floor, bleedeing. Severus had never fussed over him or almost worshipped him like others , he had in contrary treated him like a normal person with all his malice and his sarcasm. Even if he had never shown it to anyone , Snape had been the only one , never believing Harry to being able to handle everything in this war alone. Severus had always protected him even then....even if Harry had only seen this in a vision but he knew somehow, that it was true.Yes he loved this man. Never in his life had he been so sure about something.He looked at the figure in the bed , with sad , tearstained eyes.„Please wake up!“ The fifth night Harry had collapsed on Severus bed , because he couldn`t handle the lack of sleep anymore.A few hours later he had been awake again and had , with a last glace at Sevrus, left the room.The next two nights he didn`t stay that long but the last evening he took Snape`s hand in his and touched his cheek against it. Before he left he kissed Snape`s fingers and Severu`s thought he heard a whispered „I miss you!“ but he could be mistaken. The next night it had taken all of Harry`s willpower to stay awake. Severus raised an eyebrow at this and the voice told him.`Qidditchtraining the whole day.´The next day , it must have been day nine, Harry knelt down beside the bed taking Severu`s hand and began sobbing. „Come back! Please wake up already! I need you! Severus please.“He stood and waited for the tears to stop falling.Then he turned around and went , shoulder slumped and his head hanging , for the door. A moment before the door closed entirely one could hear a muffeled sob and a suddenly very fast pace of steps. Harry was running back to his dorm.`Well? What are you thinking now?´Snape looked up a bit confused. Right there had been something else.„ Alright the boy is worried and maybe he even feels guilty , god knows why. Otter is worried about everyone and everything !“`Is that so? And you don`t think there is more about this?´„That`s ridicoulous not with him!“`Ah but with you right?´Snape opened his eyes wide in shock .„N..“`Wait a sec before you trie to deny everything .I know your dreams Severus.And you can`t tell me you don`t feel anything for this boy.´„I.....well....but it dosen`t matter what I feel.He is....“`In love with you!`„Bullshit!“`No? I have also seen his dreams!`The voice giggled amused.`What do you say wnat to risk a look?`„No!“It was almost too much for him to hear the boy could have feelings for him too but also see it.....` Severus , Severus the boy is seventeen , do you really think he is that naiive to dream about candlelight dinners in the moonlight?´„Pardon?“`I knew it! Alrigth I`ll show you his dreams. `„No I...“`Be still now I have to concentrate!`The screen in the air opened again and Snape saw Harry`s dreams. While he looked at the scenes before him his eyes grew wide and his cheek looked almost as if he was blushing.„This ..this ...you`re kidding ...this can`t be what he...oh my god!“Ashamed about peaking into the boys most private thought Severus turned away when a really explicit scene played before his eyes. `Oh yes this is what he dreams about, regularly.``And how is your view on life now? Do you want to go back and make the boy happy or do you want to die and let him sink into depression?´ „I .....will go back.“ I do love him after all`Ah I alway knew so!`„Damnit stop reading my thoughts!“`Ok,ok I`ll now send you back into your body.´„Oh one thing before I go....“Snape`s face twisted into a grin „Could I have this dream detailed in my memory? I`d like to....lets say ...try something.“ Kurz herrschte Stille bis...` Severus!`„Out of my head immediatly!!!“ `Alright! I have to say you`re right though , in some way he must have liked your classes!´„I said sod off , didn`t you hear me?“`Well okay then. And now hopefully goodbye at last!´ After these words everything around him went blurry. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 6Its a long way till happiness OrSometimes your best friends can be the greatest foesIt had been ten nights now that Harry had been sittind next to Snape’s bed , just thinking.He had accomodated to hold Snape’s hand in his , in case there would be a sign of life in him.But this hope had not been fulfilled .....yet.He was lost in his thoughts when he heard a sound.He looked up scared that it could be Mrs. Norris , but the he let his gaze travel to his Professor and saw that the man frowned and was mumbling something.Suddenly his eyelids began to flutter and slowly he opened his eyes locking them on Harry’s .His gaze seemed still dazed when he choked out„Ha...rry?“Harry was so shocked but also happy that he couldn’t even react in the first moment, but when he realized , that , would he stay any longer he would be discovered he jumped to his feet and fled the room.„...really ..this boy.....“ Snape murmured and slowly tried to push himself up into a sitting position, after having his thoughts in order again and his gaze could focus again.Harry had made his way back to the common room as fast as possible, but now he wished he hadn’t done that.Ron and Hermione were waiting for him both with accusing looks on their faces. „Harry we have to talk.“„I...“„Now!“ „Allright“„Where have you been? And don’t tell me you were taking a walk because you couldn’t sleep. Not for the last ten days!“Hermoine looked at him waiting for an answer, Ron sitting next to her, his face worried.„You...you know that?“Harrylooked at them in horror.Had they seen where he went?„But we want to know where you’ve been! So spill it, we are worried!“Her eyes softened .„There’s no need to, really. I , yes I think we really need to talk.“He sighed deeply and sat across from his two friends.„The thing is....I’m in love.“He let the words linger in the air. A short silence spread between them , until Hermione let out a relieved sigh. „But Harry , you should have told us , that would have explained everything.“Ron grinned at him.„So you where with your little girlfriend every night now mate?“Harry couldn’t hold his gaze for long until he looked down on the floor.„Yes you could say so, but there’s something else....“„Oh come on now, tell us it can’t be that horrible.“„My little girlfrind as you put it is a boyfriend.“Silence„WHAT?“Ron had jumped to his feet and looked at Harry in utter disbelive.„Does that mean you are.....gay?“  A\N : fast thinker that one huh?Harryonly nodded and let his gaze wander carefully over to his friends.„Harrythat isn’t true is it? You’re only kidding us!“Now Hermoine had also gotten over the initial shock and had said something..„No Hermione I’m not kidding, I am gay and that for quite some time now .“They looked at each other and a feeling spread in Harry’s stomach that made him feel queasy.„You are sick! Stay the hell away from me , understand? I don’t want to be associated with your kind!“ With these words Ron turned on his heels and fled the room. Harry looked at Hermoine..„Even if I wouldn’t put it that drastic I have to admit that I’m equally shoked Harry. I think we should end our friendship.“And with that she went to follow Ron and left him there.... alone.For a moment he stood there and tried to figure out what had just happened.His to best friends had told that they never wanted to have to do anything with him ever again.He could feel the first tears streak down his cheeks.That was not what he had imagined them to react like.Not in the least.He couldn’t stay here any longer. He turned and fled the tower.He didn’t care if he was caught he just ran . Just far far away! Snape in the meantime, had snuck out of the infirmary.He had wasted enough time here without needing Poppy to tell him he had to stay any longer.Slowly he pssed through he shadowy hallways of the castle, when he was startled to hear a noise.A student at this hour? Well it was time to scare again,especially now that nearly everyone thought him almost dead! He went around the corner and was about to begin a lecture when he saw who it was , that was sitting on the window sill , knees drwan up under his chin , weeping silently.Harry....The tears were running down his cheeks in an endless stream and his body was wrecked with his sobs.What had happened now?The boy knew that he , Snape, wasn’t going to die anymore and was awake now, so this couldn’t be Not having noticed Snape, Harry let out a startled yelp.„Si...Sir..what are you doing here? You should be in the infirmary.“He hastly tried to wipe the tears when he stood on shaking legs looking up at Snape.Even like this these eyes are enchanting, Snape thought as he looke down into the tearfilled orbs.„Yes maybe I should but who really knows that for sure ...“Harry looked at him , doubt clearly written on his face.„You snuck out , didn’t you sir? Poppy never would have let you go already.“Snapetried to pull an innocent face what made Harry smile slightly.„Possible...but that’s not to be discussed right now.What are you doing out here at this hour? You know that could get you into a lot of trouble?“Harry thought about what made him leave and immediatly the tears sprung back in his eyes.He tried to will them away but it didn’t work. Choking on his sobs he tried to stammer an answer.„I...I just wanted , I mean we had.......I ran away.“Snape lifted an eyesbrow . Harry Potter was running away from his tower?„You ran away from waht precisely?“„I.........“Harry couldn’t tell him why he had had a fight with them.As Snape noticed how unease this topic made Harry , he tried to change it. „ You don’t have to tell me. But you should go back into your dorm, before I catch you outside after curfew and.........“Snape put up an intentional break in which he settled himself behing Harry , grinning, and pushed him in the towers direction.During that he bent down to Harry’s ear finishing his sentence and watching Harry’s reaction.„.......have to punish you..........“Harryfelt a blush shoot to his face and down his neck. Just like Snape had thought . The voice indeed hadn’t lied!Harry suddenly was in a real hurry to get back to his dorm.„Th..thank you sir.“Then he was out of sight and Snape stayed a moment longer , grinnig in the direction the boy went. Then he made his way back to his dungeons. Oh yes this was going to be a lot of fun! Suddenly he stopped in his tracks. What was happening to him? He , Severus Snape, was thinking words like fun? And he hadn’t even realized he had used the boy’s given name. What was this boy doing to him? Shaking his head he went down to his rooms. First of all he needed sleep, much sleep!
10052243	Never A Memory	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": null, "Characters": "Harry Potter, Other(s), Draco Malfoy", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by Dotowe [archived by HPFandom_archivist]", "chapters": "59/59", "completed": "2008-01-22", "published": "2008-01-10T00:00:00", "words": "183,213", "Additional Tags": "Explicit Language, BDSM, Slash sex, Out of Character, Self-Harm, Sexual Content, Spoilers, Action/Adventure, Angst, Tragedy, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Suspense, Romance", "Relationship": "Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "HPFandom", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": "Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Categories": "M/M, Gen", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~Prologue~ The night sky was alight with fire and exploding magic. Flashes of Unforgivable Curses sprang from the wands of Death Eaters and Aurors alike. Wizards and witches dashed around one another on brooms; and giants, werewolves, and all manner of magical creatures churned below them amongst the scattered armies of both sides, howling their blood lust into the night. Remnants of the Order of the Phoenix, some no older than children, fought bravely and wild-eyed, lost in the fever of the final battle. Fear, blood and death filled the air so thickly one could slice into parts with a knife. London, shaking with the fury of war, had become Voldemorte's chosen battle field hours before. Now, as the battle rages on, the layers of magic that kept the wizarding world and the Muggle world safely separate began to stretch and shatter. Muggles ran terrified, cars slammed into one another, and ear-splitting screams tore through the air as the horrific and wondrous magical battle started to materialize.Hermione screamed a curse that sent a warted giant teetering sideways and crashing into a nearby building. Hermione barely registered the sound of a horn blaring before she was shoved violently out of the path of a swerving bus. Rolling into a crouch, she whipped her head around and took in what was happening. Ron dashed towards her and grabbed her arm."Hermione! What is going on?" Hermione glanced over her shoulder, her eyes glazed with terror as she realized the two worlds were colliding. "Ron! This battle has to end soon. This city won't survive the magic. This war could wipe out the--"An explosion behind them tore the last words from her mouth. Ron pulled her behind a toppled car, using his body to protect her from the shrapnel that flew from the explosion. "Where's Harry?" Hermione hissed. Ron looked down into her face, her features, like his own, indistinct under layers of dirt and ash. How they survived this long, Ron found was something to wonder at. Ron jerked his chin to the east. "Voldemorte made his grand appearance twenty minutes ago. Harry's fighting him now."Hermione's eyes widened a fraction. "We have to go there! He might need us!" she shouted over the din before sprinting off into the direction Ron had shown her. Ron allowed himself half a second to roll his eyes. "That's why I came to get you," he muttered to himself in a sing-song voice. Their journey down the next four blocks was mind numbing. Buildings groaned, glass shattered, and cars careened all around them. Somehow, they managed to make it there without being stopped by some blood thirsty Death Eater. However, they quickly found out why when they found Harry and Voldemorte.The battle seemed to come to a slow pause as wizards, Death Eaters, and creatures alike stopped to watch the epic battle between The-Boy-Who-Lived and the Dark Lord. Harry had destroyed all the Horcruxes and they laid in a burning pile of rubble near their feet. The two were circling the fiery mound, glaring at one another, wands raised and pointed. Voldemorte seemed calm despite the obliterated Horcruxes and the destruction of his long sought-after immortality. Though he seemed physically weaker, his black robes billowed around him majestically and his snake-like face glistened with dark amusement. Harry was tense, his green eyes bright and darting around him, showing his confusion at the Horcruxes destroyed yet Voldemorte lived. And so they circled and Voldemorte did not attack. Gasping, Severus Snape pushed his way through the gathering crowd, Tonks hot on his heels, and stood peering over Hermione's shoulder at the scene below them. "I don't understand," Tonks whispered. "Harry was certain that he found them all."Severus remained quiet, assessing, as Ron and Hermione shifted uncomfortably, glancing around them as Muggles continued to scream and the Dark Army became even more still, silent, and watchful. Voldemorte paused in his circling and Harry halted almost immediately, his bright green eyes resting on Voldemorte's pallid face. "I find myself in the most unusual of predicaments," Voldemorte said, barely concealed laughter rolling behind every word. "Enlighten me," Harry growled. "Why won't you attack me?""Because, Harry," Voldemorte sneered, as if speaking to a small child. "Unfortunately, it is now not in my best interest to do so." Harry narrowed his eyes, frowning hard. Almost instantly he solved the riddle. However, before Harry could turn his wand on himself, Voldemorte shouted "Expelliarmus!" Voldemorte laughed softly, the sound coming out like a snake's hiss. "Interesting, isn't it? That killing you would be my death? I made you my final Horcrux when I gave you that scar," he said pointing at Harry's forehead with Harry's wand. A gasp resounded throughout those gathered. Severus clenched and unclenched his fingers. "What am I going to do with you now?" Voldemorte asked, sounding almost whimsical. Slowly, Severus raised his wand, a muscle twitching his jaw. "No," Hermione breathed as she saw it was pointed at Harry. "Would you rather kill him yourself?" Severus grated out. "It has to be done."Ron and Tonks simultaneously pressed the tips of their wands into Severus' back. "Don't even think about it," Ron growled."There has to be another way," Hermione pressed, careful to keep her voice low. She placed a hand on Ron's arm and pressed down, silently urging him to lower his wand. "'Mione! You're not serious!" Ron hissed."There has to be another way," Hermione persisted, keeping her eyes on her old Potions teacher. Severus was silent for a moment. "There is no other way."Hermione's eyes darted back towards Harry, her eyes filling with frustrated tears. Severus raised his wand again and opened his mouth to utter the Killing Curse."SILENCIO!" Hundreds of heads whipped towards the shouted spell as Severus is hit with it. His mouth moved but no sound came out. Out of the corner of his eye, Severus saw a shape speeding towards them on a broom, green and black robes rippling across the form. As the wizard drew nearer, shining silver hair catches the moonlight as he descended upon them at breakneck speed. "EXPELLIARMUS!" the wizard shouts again, his wand pointed at Voldemorte. Catching both the Dark Lord and Harry's wands, the wizard crashes into Harry Potter. Severus sucks in a breath and begins struggling through the crowd before him, recognizing his godson. Draco Malfoy grappled with Harry for a moment before pinning The-Boy-Who-Lived beneath him. Voldemorte lunged forward, screaming his wrath, but Severus threw himself between them. Hermione, Ron, and Tonks stared wide-eyed as they pushed their way through shell-shocked Aurors and Death Eaters. A thunderous crack shook the earth as Draco manages to snap both Harry and Voldemorte's wands over his knee. Then, Draco grabbed the back of Harry's neck, smashing their foreheads together. Harry quit fighting him when their eyes locked. "For Dumbledore," Draco whispered before uttering a string of spells Harry didn't recognize. Suddenly, Harry's scar exploded in white hot pain and streaks of fire coursed through his body. Harry didn't hear the last spell that fell from Draco's lips but, inexplicably, the pain began pulling out of him. White light, blinding anyone who looked at it, poured from Harry's mouth and scar and was sucked in by Draco. Draco's body convulsed and shook as the light went into him and with a final spasm, he let Harry go and fell to one side. Harry scrambled away and turned in time to see Draco reach for his wand. Harry's heart stopped when he saw Draco's face clearly and saw his scar etched into Draco Malfoy's forehead. Immediately, Harry's hand shot up to his own forehead but the seeking fingers found nothing but smooth skin there. Harry watched, dumbstruck, as Draco pointed his wand at himself. Behind them, Severus struggled to keep a weakening Voldemorte at bay. Aurors flanked them, fighting off any Death Eater who tried to come to their Dark Lord's aid. The raging Voldemorte met Draco's eyes in that last surreal moment. "And for my mother," Draco growled with so much conviction and malice it made Voldemorte pause in his struggling against Severus. "Avada Kedavra." A blaze of green magic shot from Draco's wand and through his body until he lay still, dead. Voldemorte's face twisted and contorted as silent magic swirled around him. His mouth curled in a large O before his body went rigid and then exploded. Thrown back from the magic, Severus landed near his godson and as Aurors and friends rushed to Harry's side, Severus Snape crawled towards Draco's body. Harry watched as Severus gathered his godson into his arms, whispering about 'damn fools' and 'an idiot for trying to be a hero'.Hermione glanced at the sky, noticing that the magical barrier between this world and the Muggles' was beginning to heal itself. Looking back at Harry, she saw him rise to his feet and walk unsteadily towards Severus. Dropping to his knees beside Severus' huddled form, Harry reached out and touched Draco's shoulder. Harry snatched his hand back as Draco's body began to glow. Old magic swirled around them, winding around Draco's body and lifting him into the air. The magic grew denser and denser, until Draco's body looked like a burning star. Suddenly, the light brightened to a flash and then dimmed. Slowly, Draco's body descended back to the ground. Everyone quieted and looked on as Severus once again took Draco into his arms. Except, now, Draco Malfoy was breathing.~~ Never A MemoryCast ~~ Harry Potter ~ Wizard, Boy-Who-Lived, Lead Auror on the Malfoy Case; Son of Lily Evans and James PotterDraco Malfoy ~ Wizard, Pureblood, Defeated Lord Voldemort; Son of Narcissa Black and Lucius Malfoy. Host of the Black Tulpa. Ronald Weasley ~ Wizard, Pureblood, Partner to Harry Potter in the Auror’s Division of the Ministry of Magic, Lead Auror on the Malfoy Case; Son of Molly and Arthur WeasleyHermione Granger ~ Witch, Muggle-Born, Fiancée of Ronald Weasley and best friend of Harry Potter, Head of Division for Muggle Affairs at the Ministry of MagicSeverus Snape ~ Wizard, Half-Blood, Godfather of Draco Malfoy, Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and WizardryMinerva McGonagall ~ Witch, Animagus, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizadry’Rufus Scrimgeour ~ Wizard, Minister of Magic, acts and looks somewhat different than what is described in the booksBlaise Zabini ~ Wizard, Pureblood, Best Friend of Draco Malfoy. Double-Spy during second war, hid in Italy until news of Draco and the Secret Prophecy drew him out.Pansy Parkinson ~ Witch, Pureblood, Once-Fiancée of Draco Malfoy; Niece and Goddaughter of Pandora ParkinsonPandora Parkinson ~ Witch, Pureblood, Double Spy during Second War and granted Clemency from the Ministry of Magic; Aunt and Godmother to Pansy ParkinsonWalburga Black ~ (deceased) Draco Malfoy’s ancestor on his Mother’s side. Resides in a portrait at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Lucius Malfoy ~ Wizard, Pureblood; Father to Draco Malfoy; Given the Dementor’s Kiss for actions as a Death EaterBellatrix LeStrange ~ Wizard, Pureblood, Sister to Narcissa Black, Death Eater for Lord Voldemort; warned Blaise Zabini of the Secret ProphecyCrabbe and Goyle ~ Wizards, Death Eaters, former thugs of Draco Malfoy’s gang at Hogwart’s School of Witchcraft and WizardryLuna Lovegood ~ Witch; friend of Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Weasley. Former member of Dumbledore' Army. Dr. Laeverton ~ Muggle; Head Psychologist at St. Mary’s HospitalLisa Murkwood ~ Muggle; Secretary at St. Mary’s HospitalBetty or Betty-boy ~ Term used to address Staff Members of St. Mary’s HospitalWill Mettle ~ Muggle; Patient at St. Mary’s Hospital; One of John Smith’s ThugsBilly Bane ~ Muggle; Patient at St. Mary’s hospital; One of John Smith’s ThugsSally ~ Muggle; A BettyNina Rolter ~ Muggle; Patient at St. Mary’s HospitalMichael Deans ~ Appointed Social Worker for John Smith upon release from St. Mary’s Hospital Sergeant Bowler ~ Muggle; Member of Madison S.W.A.T.Lieutenant Fitz ~ Muggle; Member of Madison S.W.A.T.Agent Christian Hale, U.K.S.S. ~ Alias for Harry Potter in Madison, WisconsinMackle, Anin, Boyle, Nadger, Heroth, Gasse, Lanel, Bishop, and Feerse ~ Wizards, Aurors for the Ministry of Magic and Veteran Members of the aurors Division. All become involved the Malfoy CaseDrew Williams ~ Wizard, Auror for U.S. MLED Madison, Wisconsin, Muggle Affairs Division, Detective. Partner to Joe Byrne. Husband to Martha Lane and Father of Tally and Crysta Williams. Joe Byrne ~ Wizard, Auror for U.S. MLED Madison, Wisconsin, Muggle Affairs Division, Detective. Partner to Drew Williams. Husband to Madame Kate Galeoanne. Phil Lackey ~ Wizard, Member of U.S. MLED Madison Wisconsin, Muggle Affairs Division, Muggle ExpertSalene ~ U.S. MLED, Madison Wisconsin, Muggle Affairs Division SecretaryMary Heart ~ Witch, Personal Secretary of Rufus Scrimgeour the Minister of Magic, U.K.Trisha Knockwood ~ Witch, Member of Muggle Affairs in the Ministry of MagicSam Little ~ Wizard, Member of Muggle Affairs in the Ministry of MagicCaptain Whistle ~ Squib, Works as a Muggle on a Cruise Liner, former Ally of Lord Voldemort, Owes a Boon to Blaise Zabini for keeping his secretSimon Heil ~ Muggle, Acquiantance of Captain Whistle, quiet transporter for hireFather Ernst Alt ~ Wizard, Untrained. Exorcist for the Catholic Church. Convicted of Negligent Manslaughter with the death of Anneliese Michel. Maul ~ Black Tulpa; center of the Secret Prophecy. Once gave Lord Voldemort the Seven Keys (Horcruxes) in exchange for a chosen mortal to possess at the End of Days. The Gatherer ~ Cruent Mantle, Wizard, Maul’s Puppet. Ex-lover of Harry Potter. Hufflepuff graduate from Hogwart’s School of Witchcraft and WizardryMaximus Cure ~ (Michael Deans) Wizard forbidden to use magic for hire; Master of the Inversion Enchantratem. Outlaw. Winston Reakley ~ Squib, Azkaban CaretakerMadame Leilane ~ Witch; Owner of the Stable for Magical CreaturesSlightly ~ House Elf of Malfoy ManorWitherwings ~ (Buckbeak) Hippogriff; transports Harry Potter to the Tien Shen Pass where Draco Malfoy hid while brewing the Verve Channel Electron ElixirPan ~ Draco Malfoy’s Eagle OwlHedwig ~ Harry Potter’s OwlGriphook ~ Goblin; Possesses the Sword of Godric GryffindorHogarth Rivers ~ Wizard, Healer fro St. Mungo's; Stationed at the Ministry of Magic ~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, thier world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Chapter One~The Sacrifice~ Three years later...Harry Potter sighed and ran a hand tiredly over his eyes. It was three o'clock on a Wednesday afternoon and the workday was nearly over. However, judging by the nature of the owl Harry had just received from his old Potions professor; Harry very much doubted his workday would be over at five pm sharp. Tilting his head to the side and letting his green eyes take in his cluttered desk, Harry lifted a hand and lazily pet Hedwig behind her ears. Satisfied, Hedwig ruffled her feathers pleasantly and flew off. Harry picked up the note from Snape and reread it. 'Potter,I need to speak with you immediately. At Hogwarts. 6 o'clock. ~S.S.'Severus Snape never requested an audience with Harry Potter unless it concerned Draco Malfoy. In fact, Harry hadn't heard from Snape in nearly two years--when the Healers at St. Mungo's made it clear that Malfoy wasn't going to wake up from his coma any time soon. The Healers had put their foot down more for Snape's benefit than Harry's. Convinced that Draco Malfoy's single act of heroism in the entire time Harry had known him was centered around his need for redemption in being one of the main conspirators that led to Albus Dumbledore's death in their sixth year and revenge for the murder of his mother, Narcissa Malfoy, Harry's interest in Draco's well being was simply professional.Voldemorte had murdered Narcissa Malfoy because, even though Draco had kept his word by letting Death eaters into Hogwarts, the Malfoy heir could not, in the last minutes of Dumbledore's life, kill his Head Master. For whatever reason, was still a mystery to Harry. Draco had disappeared after Narcissa's funeral where Death Eaters had attacked him when Draco had appeared to pay his final respects. Draco Malfoy did not re-appear until the Eve Battle where he used his body as a conduit for the magical energy that caused Harry to be Voldemorte's final Horcrux and killed himself. Why Draco Malfoy survived the Killing Curse was still a mystery one of Harry's best friends, Hermione Granger, was obsessed to figuring out. Harry had the feeling it had something to do with why he survived the Killing Curse himself. Harry's mother had sacrificed herself to save Harry as an infant, which awoke--according to the late Albus Dumbledore--old magic that wrapped Harry in a cocoon of impenetrable energy that was strong enough to not only deflect Voldemorte's Killing Curse, but also destroy the Dark Lord. Regardless of Draco Malfoy's motives, Harry had to grudgingly concede that none of them were selfish and that his sacrifice was as pure as Lily Potter's; and that enough of it was embedded in the love for his mother, Narcissa Malfoy. So, whatever the science that would explain away what happened that night, three years ago, Draco Malfoy survived the Killing Curse and though his sacrifice saved his life, Malfoy remained in a coma-like state since then. No matter what St. Mungo's Healers tried, he wouldn't wake up. And though Severus Snape would never admit to holding affection for any breathing thing, it was no secret to Harry that his old Potions master cared for his godson. Snape was willing to kill Dumbledore in accordance with the vow he made with Draco's mother in order to protect the Malfoy heir. And Snape was holding Harry Potter to his Gryffindor nature. Though Harry did not believe any of Draco's actions were for Harry's benefit, that fact remained that he would not be alive if not for his old school rival. And so, Harry, his Gryffindor honor, and Ronald Weasley--his partner and longtime friend--remained Head Aurors on the Malfoy case. A case that, though it remained open, was pretty lax...except for the incessant need to keep a minimum of five Aurors around the sleeping Malfoy at all times. A year ago, Harry and Ron had stumbled on a bounty warrant for Draco Malfoy's assassination while chasing after Harold Werain, a Death Eater who managed to slip away during the last moments of the Eve Battle like so many others the Ministry had made first priority to catch and convict. Unfortunately, there were more Death Eaters in Voldemorte's Army than originally anticipated and the cases for them were slow-going, at best. Harry Potter had joined the Aurors immediately after that last battle and has made a career for himself in bringing these renegade Death Eaters to justice. Ron followed, like he always does, and managed to secure a spot for himself as Harry's partner; a position that was sought after by many Aurors. Despite all of this, Ron had retained his cheery nature and was more interested in playing quidditch and hanging out with his new fiancée, Hermione Granger--as of a solid week ago--than selling his soul for the Ministry and dedicating every minute of his life to being an Auror as Harry had. Coincidentally, Hermione had landed herself a job at the Ministry as well; however, not as an Auror. Hermione, in the last three years, had managed to create two new divisions at the Ministry and now headed the Muggle Affairs division. The newest additions to the Ministry, the Research and Comprehension of Old Magic division--headed by Luna Lovegood--and the Slavery Liberation Act division--headed by a sweet-faced witch named Marie Cellar--had caused quite a stir and not a few raised eyebrows two years ago. However, being a young veteran of the Eve Battle and...well, and being Hermione Granger, she had had her way eventually. The new divisions actually did quite well...as long as they stayed within budget--which wasn't very often--and usually managed to stay beneath the radar. Harry frowned and tossed Snape's note onto his cluttered desk. Harry wondered what was so urgent. None of the Aurors posted at St. Mungo's had reported anything unusual...and anything short of Malfoy waking up wasn't something that would grasp Snape's attention. Shrugging, Harry bowed over a pile of paperwork and began completing the two hour task of filing reports for the last week. Harry huddled further into his robes and watched his breath frost in front of him. Harry had just Apparated outside of Hogwarts grounds and had to pause. It never ceased to amaze him that no matter how often...or infrequently, he visited, Harry was always flanked by a dizzying amount of memories at just the sight of the old castle. Steadying himself against the sound of faint laughter and the ghostly visions of old friends dead and gone, Harry pulled open the large iron gates and began making his way to the school, snow crunching softly beneath his feet. Once reaching the large double doors, Harry was immediately greeted by Head Mistress Minerva McGonagall. "Good evening, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, her eyes darting around the grounds behind Harry. "Do come in."Harry was too suspicious of McGonagall's nervous behavior to be flanked again by memories but he did pause outside the Great Hall, listening to the sound of students eating, laughing, and talking to one another in loud, carefree voices. McGonagall stopped beside him and waited for Harry to turn to her. "I'm here to see Snape," Harry said finally. "Yes, yes, I know. This way."Harry followed McGonagall to the dungeon where she paused outside of Snape's office. Looking once back at Harry, she rapped lightly on the door. Immediately the door opened, its hinges creaking slightly. Stepping in the dark room after the Head Mistress, Harry was slightly annoyed and even more curious to see that Ron was already there. Snape's owl had asked specifically for Harry's presence so he hadn't bothered to owl Ron. Harry usually filled Ron in later with the details when he went off to do something on his own. Ron waved and his grin turned into a grimace when Harry mock-glared at him. Ron shrugged and jerked his chin toward Snape, who was sitting behind his desk with a less-than-tolerant look on his face. Harry looked back at Ron and shook his head warningly. Ron shrugged again and then his grin was back. "Really," Snape drawled from behind his desk. "As much as I hate to interrupt this fascinating bit of communication between the Ministry's two most...prized Aurors, I must inquire if we could get down to business. I have papers to grade."Harry stiffened and turned towards Snape, green eyes flashing with barely restrained spite. "So speak.""My godson woke up this afternoon. Half past one."Harry turned immediately back to Ron, who spread his hands in surrender while nodding the affirmation. "And I wasn't informed because...?" Harry growled with unwarranted vehemence. "Harry, we thought it would be better handled in private," Ron said. Harry narrowed his eyes. "Why?"McGonagall, who had remained silent until now, found this moment to speak up. "Please, Mr. Potter. We have everyone's best interests at heart...including your Aurors. Hear us out."Harry eyed his old Transfiguration teacher and took a deep breath. "Alright, I'm listening.""I was visiting Neville, you know, to tell him about 'Mione and me," Ron began. "Neville burnt his hand handling some plant that he probably shouldn't've and now he's shacked up at St. Mungo's--""The point, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall interrupted tersely. Snape raised a brow and looked mildly annoyed but said nothing. "Alright, anyway," Ron continued. "While I was there, I ran into Mitchel, one of the Aurors on staff for Mal--""I know who he is, Ron," Harry snapped."Would you let me finish!" Ron exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "I mean, really! Anyway, Mitchel was off to Apparate to the Ministry to tell us Malfoy was up and when he told me we went to see him. And, well, Malfoy acted like he'd never seen me before so I owled Snape, figuring maybe he could jog his memory--""He doesn't remember anything." The quietness in Snape's voice was unnerving. "He doesn't even remember his own name."Harry took a moment to digest this information before speaking. "We have charms for that," Harry said finally. "Potions, even. Why...?"McGonagall looked sharply at Snape and when he nodded to her, she cleared her throat. "Mr. Potter, Snape and I had discussed...in the event that...well, Mr. Malfoy may be safer among Muggles."Harry couldn't help himself. He laughed. Draco Malfoy, pureblood slime, Mr. I'm-too-good-for-anything-that-isn't-an-exact-replicate-of-me, living with Muggles. It was completely insane. Incredulous to a fault. However, Harry quieted when he saw that the three assembled in front of him were quite serious. Harry searched for a chair and sat down. Then he looked at Snape. "This couldn't have been your idea."Snape scowled. "Of course not. However, Minerva has some valid points and Weasley has expressed the need for more Aurors in the field weeding out Death Eaters.""Death Eaters who would see Mr. Malfoy dead," McGonagall added. Harry glanced over at Ron who, though his freckled face was the perfect mask of seriousness, had eyes that shone with wicked humor. Harry bit back another smile. "And where would we stash him?" Harry asked. Snape opened his mouth, a retort ready to ridicule Harry's choice of words, but closed it at another sharp look from McGonagall. "We were hoping Ms. Granger could help with that," McGonagall replied. "I hear she's quite the expert on Muggle comings and goings.""He would still need to be hospitalized for a few weeks," Ron said.Harry looked at Ron. "Yeah?"Ron shrugged. "He's still really weak...and if he's going to live in the Muggle world, he's going to need to be in a place where they're willing to teach him basic stuff from scratch."Harry nodded. "That's true...""So help me, Potter," Snape all but growled. "If you're not taking this seriously--"Harry waved a hand dismissively at his old Potions teacher. "This is my case, Snape. I know how to do my job.""You're protection is owed him, Potter," Snape said, his voice rising. "If one of the Dark Lord's little minions so much as sneezes within thirty feet of him--""I owe him nothing," Harry said quietly. "But I will do my job." One nicety does not change years of torment from that Malfoy git. Snape slammed his fist on his desk. "He saved your life!""Yes," Harry said, rising to his feet. "And until you can brew some concoction that will wrap Malfoy in an impenetrable bubble for the next few years, we are going to do it my way. I think this Muggle thing is an excellent idea. No Death Eater would think to look for the Almighty Pureblood Malfoy Heir among 'Mudbloods'. We would only need one Auror to shadow him. We really could use the extra men.""Mr. Potter," McGonagall said quietly, placing a thin hand on Harry's arm. "Please..." McGonagall glanced over at Snape, who was glowering darkly at them. "We're still all in this together."Harry shrugged her hand off. "I'm sorry Head Mistress. I'm not as easily forgiving as you." Harry spared one last glance over his shoulder at Snape and thought of Dumbledore. "My trust has to be earned."Ron followed Harry out the door and out of the dungeon. It wasn't until they were outside in the snow that Ron allowed himself a snigger. "You have to admit, it's damn funny."Harry offered half a smile. "Yeah." Harry turned and looked back at the school. "I never would have thought Snape would agree to something like this, though."Ron shrugged and grinned. "It's still damn funny. Can't wait 'till Hermione hears about this one."Harry looked sidelong at his partner and allowed himself a full smile. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Chapter Two~The Tell-Tale Scar~ The next day...If there was anyone who took their job more seriously than Harry, it was Hermione Granger. As they usually did, Harry and Ron found Hermione on the fifth level of the Ministry of Magic Headquarters, where the Division for Muggle Affairs was now located, juggling a stack of vellum books with one hand while using her wand to levitate a pile of paperwork with the other. She was flushed, hurried, and determined to get to whatever destination she was headed when they stopped her.Ron automatically stepped forward and relieved Hermione of her staggering heap of books, glancing at the title of the topmost. "History of Western Civilizations and the Rise of the Industrial Age" it read and Ron had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Muggle Affairs was actually fairly new to the Ministry, even though Hermione often worked closely with his father, Arthur Weasley, and his partner division of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. Hermione, being a stickler for facts, insisted that at least half her division study and research Muggles, their history, and the way their world worked in order for the Wizarding community to better understand them. Apparently, seeing London crumble while only patches of the barrier that separated the Wizarding world and the Muggles dissipate struck a nerve in Hermione. She won the rights to Muggle Affairs when the Ministry began struggling in finding all the Muggles that witnessed the Eve Battle and Obliviating them and completely repairing, without traces of suspicious magic, all damage done to the city. What was even more interesting, was how the Prime Minister and the Minister of Magic had simultaneously agreed to opening a discreet division that researched, day and night, ways to make sure what happened during the Eve Battle never happened again. And while that security has yet to be created, Hermione made it clear that the ignorance of both worlds to one another, even if it were on a discreet level, was working to both their communities’ disadvantage. Ron thought that her vehemence towards the situation may have more to do with her protectiveness towards her parents than Hermione would like to admit. Still, Ron had grown up with a father who was fascinated with Muggles, fell in love with a woman who had Muggle parents, and still didn't understand a damn thing about the non-magical world. And asked if he cared, Ron would probably shrug while his eyes said definitely not."Thank you, Ron," Hermione said with a faint smile and running her hand distractedly through her hair. "But I'm terribly busy today and I think I may have to cancel our lunch. Oh, hello Harry."Harry smiled genuinely at her while Ron's face fell slack. Ron had been looking forward to spending time with Hermione. It seemed that they rarely got to the past few weeks due to both their incredibly busy schedules. And while Ron felt he solidified their relationship when Hermione accepted his proposal, he still felt the incessant need to be around her all the time. Ron hoped that feeling never went away. Quickly gathering himself, Ron offered a grin. "We actually need your help with something.""Yeah?" Hermione asked, looking between the two. "With what?"Ron looked over at Harry and then back at Hermione, taking a deep breath. "We need to stash Malfoy with Muggles because he lost his memory and we think he would be safer outside the Wizarding world and we could really use the extra man power and he lost his memory so it might work," Ron said, each word stumbling over the other.Hermione let out a startled laugh but immediately sobered. "You're serious."Harry nodded. "Oh no," Hermione breathed. "No, no, no...we finally got the Muggles here under control...we can't send a Muggle-hating wizard out to them. It would never work. And we ARE talking about "Draco" Malfoy, right?""Yes, but he doesn't know he's a wizard, 'Mione," Ron insisted. "He doesn't even know his own name."Hermione shook her head. "Even so, a wizard is a wizard. He has power, even if he may not remember how to use it right away. To send an amnesiac wizard out amongst Muggles isn't only foolish, it's dangerous. Malfoy will remember how to use his powers before he'll remember that he has them.""We'll have an Auror on him twenty-four seven," Harry said quietly. Hermione turned to Harry and then reared back her head. "Harry," she breathed. "Don't tell me this was your idea! If this is some kind of sick way to get back at Malfoy for Hogwarts--""It was McGonagall and Snape's idea," Harry interrupted, his voice still quiet. Hermione opened her mouth and then closed it. Then she shook her head again. "It's a bad idea, Harry."Ron stepped forward but Harry put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Your opinion is duly noted," Harry said as gently as he could. "But we're not here for your opinion; we're here for your help."Ron shot a despairing look Harry's way. Hermione stared hard at Harry but eventually sighed. Harry never spoke to her, or any of his friends, that way unless Harry was ultimately thinking twenty miles faster than them and was committed to whatever he'd set his mind to. Back at Hogwarts, it usually concerned Voldemort. Now, it was Draco Malfoy that had Harry on edge. Hermione glanced once at Harry's forehead, where his tell-tale scar once was, a scar that now rested on Draco Malfoy's head, and nodded. "All right. Follow me.""...Yes, I understand," Hermione said into her wand--where, on the other end of the communication, Lisa Murkwood of St. Mary's Hospital and Rehabilitation Center, chatted amiably into a telephone. "Absolutely. I agree. His name?"Hermione glanced over at Ron and Harry, who were seated across from her desk in her office at Muggle Affairs. "...His name is...Smith. John Smith."Ron snorted, Harry curled his lip in a cruel smile, and Hermione threw them both an exasperated look. "Yes, yes, of course," Hermione continued. "I'm sorry? Oh, he'll be arriving this afternoon. Will do. Thank you, Mrs. Murkwood. Of course. Okay...o...okay Mrs. Murkwood. Mmhmm. OK, goodbye. Yes, yes, goodbye." Hermione restrained the urge to throw her wand across the room and placed it, with over-controlled severity, on her desk. Looking up at the two Aurors seated across from her, Hermione breathed in deeply and let it out slowly."John Smith?" Ron asked with a snarky grin. "What the hell kind of Muggle nonsense name--""Ronald!" Hermione snapped and gave him that look. Ron quieted immediately."So..." Harry inquired.Hermione ran a hand through her curls and sat back into her chair. "Mrs. Murkwood said that a patient of...Malfoy's nature, would be best served first in the Psychiatric Ward of the hospital, where he would learn to write down his dreams and memories and be taught fundamental basics...and then in the rehabilitation program, where they would eventually set him up with his own apartment and assign him a Social Worker.""A what?""A Social Worker. Someone to check in on him every once in a while."Harry nodded. "Good. That should buy us plenty of time...""There's a catch, Harry," Hermione said.Harry raised his dark eyebrows questioningly."I set him up in a hospital in the US."Silence greeted her revelation.Harry and Ron, having completed the task of Obliviating the Healers who had watched over Draco Malfoy during his stay at St. Mungo's--after, of course, convincing them to sign waivers giving their permission--entered the room Draco was staying at. If there was anything more uncomfortable to Harry than escorting an amnesiac Draco Malfoy to a Muggle Psychiatric Ward, it was escorting him to an American Psychiatric Ward. Harry knew next to nothing about the American Wizarding world--they didn't even play Quidditch--and even less about American Muggles. Harry wondered if this was Hermione's way of getting back at him for the way he pressured her into helping them even if Hermione had explained that she would not endanger the fragile stability she had established in the English Wizarding world over the last few years off of a whim Harry and her fiancée seemed so eager to go along with. So, Hermione had arranged for 'John Smith' to have a Social Security number, perfect alias Draco would learn about during his stay at St. Mary's, and American Citizenship. Ron had insisted that it was poetic justice that Malfoy was to be stashed in an American Muggle loony bin. And as much as Harry wanted to concede the point, a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach wouldn't let him. Harry had to admit, however, that it was the perfect cover up for Draco Malfoy. When--and if--Draco regained his memory, he may even come to grudgingly agree. Not that what Draco Malfoy thought or felt was anything to Harry Potter. Amid white sheets and countless pillows on the tiny twin-sized bed, Draco Malfoy lay propped up and dozing. He woke instantly and stared silently back at the two Aurors. His eyes flashed silver when they recognized Ron as the red-haired man who had come to see him the day before, but they turned a slate grey when they took in Harry. Draco blinked, then winced, and his hand came up to his forehead where wisps of white-blond hair covered the lightening-bolt scar that once was Harry's. Harry frowned and felt a pull in his mind, like a hazy fog was trying to intercept his thoughts. Harry shook his head and glared at Draco. Draco's eyes widened a fraction and he looked away, lowering his hand. Ron tossed some folded clothes onto Draco's bed. "You have five minutes to get dressed."Draco looked back up immediately. "Where am I going?""You're being transferred," Ron said and turned to leave.Harry, immobile beside him, continued to glare at Draco. Draco flicked his grey eyes to Harry's face, answering his stare for an icy one of his own. Ron grasped Harry's arm. "Five minutes," Ron repeated forcefully, more for Harry's benefit than Draco's.Harry finally looked away and followed Ron outside the room. Ron glanced sidelong at his partner and best mate. "You okay?""I'm fine."Ron raised an auburn brow. "You didn't look fine in there," Ron said, jabbing his thumb behind him at the closed door. "I'm fine," Harry repeated.Minutes later, the two young Aurors heard a rap on the door. "I'm ready," called Draco's voice from inside. Ron opened the door and stepped aside to let Draco through. Draco emerged from the hospital room with a somewhat dazed look on his face, sharp grey eyes taking in everything. "This way," Ron said, walking toward the exit. Draco followed and Harry took up the rear, looking at anything except the back of Draco's head. Once Disapparating the three of them to the entrance of St. Mary's, Harry and Ron paused to let Draco catch his breath. Draco seemed shocked at the revelation of Apparition...however, Draco felt more vertigo and the nagging sense of déjà vu than anything else. Shaking his head to clear it, Draco nodded to his two chaperones and Harry and Ron walked him to the front doors. Draco paused again before Ron went to open the door and looked back at Harry, who, up to this point, had trailed behind Draco on their journey. Harry returned his stare and was slightly unnerved to see Draco Malfoy's face when it wasn't twisted in a malicious sneer. He seemed inquisitive; some simple question hovering behind his slate eyes. "I dreamed of you," Draco said finally. "I remember you hated me in my dreams too."Harry frowned and immediately looked over at Ron, who was staring at them with unmasked shock...and a bit of residual dismay. Ron had hoped they would get the Malfoy git here without an incident. When Harry finally looked back at Draco, whose eyes never left his face, he had his wand out. Draco looked at the wand and frowned, feeling the disconcerting pull of déjà vu all over again. When he looked back up into the dark-haired young man's face, he felt himself grow dizzy with confusion and tried to shake his head clear again. "No," Harry whispered. "You didn't. Obliviate!"Lisa Murkwood looked up and smiled toothily when the three...rather nice looking young men approached the front desk. The red-head smiled easily and proffered a file of documents. She took the file and began flipping through the pages. Mrs. Murkwood smiled again and called for a nurse. "Ah, yes. Mr. Smith. I can take it from here gentlemen." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~The Eagle Owl~ Three days later...Draco Malfoy leaned against the window pane of the room that was allotted him at St. Mary's and pressed his forehead against the cold glass. It was snowing outside and the chill seeping through the barred window cooled his burning scar; a lightening bolt scar that ached like fury every time he woke from a dream. A tapping sounded through the glass and Draco raised his gray eyes, a gray as cold as the winter outside. He blinked and lifted his head fully when he saw an Eagle Owl staring back at him expectantly. The bird was massive, with large, shrewd yellow eyes, tawny gold and black feathers, and a face as gray as Draco's eyes. Draco lifted his fingers and touched the glass separating him and the majestic owl. The bird responded with a loud hooting and raised his black ear tufts. Something pulled in Draco's mind as he stared at the Eagle Owl through the window. It felt heavy and dark, but became clearer and clearer as he stared. Draco sucked in a breath and held it, trying to hold on to the feeling in his mind as he did so. Draco could remember everything that had happened in the past three days, down to the very second. He could not, however, remember anything prior. It was driving him certifiably insane. And three days in St. Mary's could give a person a very clear depiction on what certifiably insane looked like. Draco wouldn't eat the food given to him. He would sneer in disgust when a nurse would bring in a tray and an hour later the nurse would return to collect the tray untouched. Draco didn't understand why he knew he wouldn't like the food, but he knew.He also knew that John Smith was not his name. And again, he couldn't explain it. The staff in this ward of St. Mary's would smile condescendingly when he would demand they desist calling him that absurd name and inquire what else to call him. Having no answer to provide them, they continued to call him "Mr. Smith."Nothing sparked his memory save for the residual spasms of clarity from dreams that wouldn't solidify themselves in his waking hours and Draco took to wandering aimlessly around his room for hours trying to remember...anything. The staff urged him to spend his time in the common room with the other patients...but Draco suspected that was more for their benefit than his. Draco had overheard the nurses complaining on numerous occasions about what "a hassle" it was to check on patients individually in their rooms when they could all be herded into the common room. Finding a small measure of satisfaction from annoying his caretakers, Draco stubbornly remained in his room and drank only water. And even the water, in Draco's opinion, was questionable. For some reason, Draco was convinced water shouldn't have so many bubbles still floating around minutes after the water became still. Again, with no explanation for his complaints, the staff ignored them and continued to complain--not so discreetly--to one another. Three days and not a single memory from before three days ago. Draco scowled and the Eagle Owl ruffled his feathers and hooted indignantly. "I don't know what you want, bird," Draco murmured. "Leave me be."The owl cocked his head to the side and peered at him. Draco continued to feel the shifting in his thoughts, but now it felt more like pressure than something pulling at him. Draco closed his eyes and saw flashes of floating candles, long tables with children eating merrily, and owls soaring above his head. A knock sounded at his door. Instantly, the images were gone and his scowl turned downright malicious as he turned towards the door. Will Mettle poked his chubby, gruff head through the door frame. Mettle was a patient here who, with his comrade Billy Bane--a wiry, pointed fellow who was rumored to have claimed insanity for killing an entire family south of here--took to following Draco where ever he went and spent hours guarding his door from the wailing, miserable loonies that crowded the main hall outside his door. Whatever their reasons, Draco almost appreciated the peace and quiet they usually provided him...but Draco would really have to make an attempt to appreciate anything about this place. Draco continued to level Mettle with his glare while watching the stocky fellow begin to tremble and look nervous. Draco almost wondered what landed him a spot at St. Mary's Psyche Ward. Draco would never ask, of course. That would implicate that Draco actually gave damn about another human being; and that just didn't seem natural either. "What is it, Mettle?" Draco asked coldly and had to stop himself from smiling a little when Mettle nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Draco's voice.Mettle jerked his chin to the side. "Betty says that the Doc sent for ya, man. You need to come out. I don't even say no to the Doc."Draco drew his brows together and looked back at the window, seeing that the bird had flown off. 'The Doc' was Dr. Laeverton, the Ward's main Psychiatrist. 'Betty' was what the patients called anyone on Staff, male or female. Draco refused to wonder why. Draco did wonder, however, that if he wasn't crazy he would be if he had to put up with much more of this place. Draco nodded to Mettle and watched as he closed the door in a hurry. Draco slowly went to his closet and fished out a black turtleneck from the clothes that had been provided for him. Something else that had been gnawing at his mind was why all his clothes were expensive, fit perfectly and seemed as if they were all tailored just for him. The shipment of clothes had arrived a day after he'd, according to one of the Betty's, been transferred from another hospital. Draco had no memory of this other hospital or the clothes that seemed so uniquely his and no one would allow him to study his file for clues to his past. Finally, Dr. Laeverton seemed ready to meet Draco himself, which he hadn't been inclined to since Draco had been transferred. A chance to speak with someone who had studied his file wasn't something Draco was willing to pass up so he opened the door and stepped out into the white hall. The main hall was garish. White walls, white tiled floor, and ugly pastel paintings spaced evenly down the long stretch of the hall...all in all, another very good reason Draco didn't venture from his room often. Draco found he liked it when his eyes didn't feel like they were going to bleed out of his head. His own room was simple, with mild green furniture and bland white walls; and while Draco wouldn't go so far as to say it was tasteful, he definitely preferred it from this horrid main hall and all its garish wonder. A Betty-boy with an innocent face and large brown eyes met him outside his room with Bane and Mettle. Bane nodded to him, his icy blue eyes hollow and devoid of any humane emotion. Draco nodded back but remained silent. Draco hated Bane. He couldn't figure why, but just looking at him made bile rise up the back of Draco's throat. Mettle was insignificant and hardly worrisome once you got past his sheer size, but Bane was downright evil. Draco knew that he was familiar with evil. He was reminded of that nagging feeling every time he looked at Bane; however, Draco felt that he had become something different even though everything around him had once urged him to be as dark and foreboding as the people and things he'd once surrounded himself with. When he looked at Bane, there was a cold stone in the pit of his stomach that stirred and told him that Bane was what he might once have been. And that he chose to be something else.Now, Draco felt he was nothing at all. Somehow, Bane and Mettle felt the urge to look up to him, to walk in his shadow, and that felt familiar too; two dark, simple bodyguards always hovering at his shoulders. What was it about him that made that a reality? Why would it seem natural and disconcerting in the same breathe to have evil shadow Draco's very footsteps? Draco's eyes finally left Bane's and rested on the Betty-boy's open face. "You ready?" he asked. Draco didn't grace him with a response but followed the Betty-boy down the hall and through the Ward as Bane and Mettle fell into step behind him. Finally reaching Dr. Laeverton's office, the Betty-boy's face grew grave and unsmiling when he turned to regard Bane and Mettle. "This is as far as you two go," he said. "Mr. Smith"--Draco scowled--"wait here for Dr. Laeverton to come out for you."The Betty-boy walked passed Draco and ushered Bane and Mettle back down the hall while Draco gazed at the office door's handle. Draco reached down and tried to turn the knob. It was locked. Something pressed into his mind again as Draco ran his fingers over the door knob once more. Draco felt a tingling run down his spine and through his arm as words whispered through his mind, only to be swallowed by the blackness that held the rest of his memories; and with a resounding 'click', the door unlocked itself and swung open. Draco watched the door slam against the nearest wall with mild interest, more surprised that he wasn't surprised, and added it to his list of things to ponder in his room later. Dr. Laeverton stared at Draco, his mouth slack, as the silent, platinum blond made his way into the room and took a seat in a comfortable, brown leather chair. "That door was locked," the Doc said, his trimmed, salt and pepper beard tickling around his nose and mouth. Dr. Laeverton, a practical man who had studied human development and psychology since living in his birthplace, New Zealand, at a very young age, and who prided himself on having an answer for pretty much anything, could not fathom what had happened with his office door. Dr. Laeverton finally decided the he must have forgotten to lock it earlier after his last patient left and settled in to study the newest edition to St. Mary's Psychiatric Ward. John Smith's file said he was on a strict rehabilitation program and that the sooner he could moved from the State program to the Federal, the better. That being said, Dr. Laeverton wasn't going to move Smith into any Social Services program until he was certain he had retained enough of his memory to operate properly. Dr. Laeverton watched Smith settle himself into the leather seat, crossing one leg over the other, placing both arms on the armrests, letting his long hands dangle over the edge, placing the back of his head on the back of the seat and closing his eyes. "I asked Steven to tell you to wait outside," Dr. Laeverton said, watching for a reaction. Receiving none, he scribbled down a few notes and looked back at Smith. Truth be told, John Smith was not much older than a boy. According to his file, Smith had turned twenty one some seven months prior. Technically, the Department of Social Services had referred Smith to St. Mary's instead of taking him into custody immediately, which they could have done. This may mean that, somewhere along the up line, someone had decided that this boy was either dangerous or in danger. St. Mary's Psychiatric Ward, located in the actual hospital of St. Mary's Medical Institute of Wisconsin, was a branch stemmed from the study of rehabilitation of the criminally insane. Not many made it to their particular Ward, unless by fault, experiment, or someone knew someone who knew someone. This John Smith was undoubtedly English...and while his file came with a Social Security number that checked out, Dr. Laeverton didn't believe for a second that Smith was who his file said he was. Sure, Dr. Laeverton believed he suffered from amnesia and that Smith had all the signs of being freshly woken from a long coma. Smith didn't eat, isolated himself, and preferred silence unless it was absolutely necessary. What Dr. Laeverton had to do was unlock enough memories for Smith to operate in the outside world without becoming harmful to himself or his community. Which could take weeks or even years to do properly. No one walked out of his Ward without his complete and utter confidence. "How do you like St. Mary's so far, Mr. Smith?" Dr. Laeverton tried again. Draco opened his eyes slowly and closed them again, saying nothing. "The nurses say you haven't been eating, Mr. Smi--""Your staff shows a level of ineptitude that borders on the imbecilic," Draco murmured in a slow, monotone drawl. Draco opened his eyes again and peered at the man seated across from him. Suddenly, Draco's teeth flashed brilliant white in a rogue's smile. "And I mean that in a very caring way," Draco added after some deliberation. A muscle twitched in Dr. Laeverton's jaw. Draco heard water trickling to the side of him and smelled something less than desirable. Draco turned and saw a small tank with turtles in it against a far wall, set in a bookshelf with a number of hardbacks on psychology and the inner workings of the human mind. Draco curled his lip in disgust and turned back to the doctor. He was writing something. When Dr. Laeverton finally looked back up at Draco, his gray eyes were leveled on the older man's face with a distinctly veiled look. "So doctor," Draco said quietly. "Why don't you tell me something about myself?"Dr. Laeverton pursed his lips and rubbed at his beard before obliging. "Well, your name is John Smith"--Draco snorted--" you are 21, and your birthday is June 5th--""Where was I born?""It doesn't say. You arrived at St. Jude's Medical Institute roughly three years ago, suffering a blow to the head that rendered you comatose. When you became conscious, you were sent here. While you were comatose, your file was researched and this is what we know of you." Dr. Laeverton paused for effect, watching Smith closely. "You moved to the States when you were five--we believe, illegally because we could find absolutely no trace of your parents whatsoever. You were a ward of the state until you graduated Chesapeake High School in Maryland at age seventeen where you disappeared and were not seen again until arriving at St. Jude's. How you became injured is still unconfirmed and probably will remain so until you regain your memory."Draco's frown slowly turned into a sneer. "Do you pay people to make that bollocks up or do you just do it yourself, mate?"Dr. Laeverton returned his gaze steadily, clasping his tanned, gnarled hands in front of him. "That's your file, Mr. Smith. If it is incorrect, I urge you to rectify the situation with the truth."Draco glared. "And a comedian, too. Isn't this just my lucky day?"Dr. Laeverton looked away for a moment, apparently counting to ten in his head. "I'm here to aid you in recovering what is lost, Mr. Smith. If or when you remember something that differentiates what I have to go off of, I would hope you report this to me immediately. Until then, we're just going to have to play it by ear, you and I."Draco took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I don't even think that's my name," Draco whispered. "In fact, I know it's not."Dr. Laeverton nodded. "The second you give me something else to call you, I will."Draco scowled and leaned back in his chair. "Something that often helps amnesiacs is a notebook," Dr. Laeverton continued. "Things often try to trickle from our subconscious into our conscious when we sleep, and vice versa. Your subconscious is where you memories are stored. In order to pull them from there into you conscious, you need to write down everything that is familiar to you, everything that you feel reminds of something else, and every time you feel a sense of déjà vu. And it is especially important, Mr. Smith, to write down everything you can remember about your dreams. I trust you dream at night?"Draco nodded, eyeing the doctor and the notebook he had produced while speaking. "And every week, we will discuss what you have written down," Dr. Laeverton said. Draco stood and reached out his hand for Dr. Laeverton to place the notebook in it. When the doctor hovered the notebook above Draco's hand, his gray eyes flashed with silver when they glared at Dr. Laeverton. "You must eat, Mr. Smith," Dr. Laeverton said firmly. "The second I hear you're not eating, I'll take this away."Draco scoffed. "Have you tried the food here? It's unbelievable! It smells worse than your turtles do!" Dr. Laeverton laughed when Smith's face scrunched up like he'd eaten a bug. "You'll manage.""Fine," Draco said, plainly disgusted. Dr. Laeverton handed him the notebook and walked the pale young man to the door. "I'll see you next week, Mr. Smith."*Draco closed the door to his bedroom behind him. He tossed the notebook on his bed and went to the small table by the bathroom and, grabbing the table and a nearby chair, he dragged the furniture across the bedroom until it sat directly under the barred window. Then, using only the light from his bathroom and the pale light of the pitted moon above the hospital, Draco set the notebook and a pen on the table, seated himself, and opened it up to the first page. Like Draco somehow knew he would, the Eagle Owl flew down and perched on the windowsill, watching Draco write over his shoulder, through the barred window. Draco glanced once at the magnificent bird. "My first entry is about you, my friend," Draco murmured with a light smile. The Eagle Owl made no sound, his shrewd yellow eyes watching patiently from the other side of the glass as he waited for his master.~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~The Last Kiss~One week later...*Ron Weasley stood and peered over his cubicle at his partner, Harry Potter, who was seated behind his desk, fiddling with his wand with some far away look crowding his features. Harry had become incredibly moody the past couple of weeks--if he wasn't already incredibly moody. Especially this week. Harry seemed to space out more often, staring into places Ron couldn't see and neglecting his paperwork; a thing Harry rarely did. Ron often tried to snap him out of it. Yesterday, Ron took him to The Mild Brew, a pub down the street, for a few drinks; however, a few drinks turned into many and Ron ended up dragging an incoherent Boy-Who-Lived (Twice) from the pub within a few hours. An ex-lover of Harry's, a Hogwarts Hufflepuff graduate by the name of Cruent Mantle, was sighted with some other bloke by the pair of them the second they had walked in. Not one to want to make scene, Harry had perched on a barstool at the other end of the pub and quietly drained three schooners by the time Ron had ordered his first. Harry's reaction had honestly surprised Ron. Ron had thought Harry was over the Hufflepuff bloke. They hadn't dated in some six months and Harry never spoke of him. Truth be told, Harry never mentioned that seeing Cruent had bothered him, but Ron would never call himself an expert on ponce inclination. In fact, even being Harry's best mate hadn’t ever clued him in that Harry was bi or gay or whatever the hell he was. The shock of Harry taking a shine to blokes as a well as women had passed as quickly as it came though. Hermione had thought it was wonderful news when Harry had quietly announced that Cruent was his lover. Ron thought it was strange but didn't give it much energy. Harry was his best mate and whatever or whoever he was shagging was his own business. It was just...Ron had really, really hoped Harry and Ginny were going to re-establish their relationship after the Eve War. Ron remembered the look on Harry's face when Ginny had shown up to their Auror Graduation with some bloke named Lenor Remuin, a cousin of Luna Lovegood's. There was this sardonic, half-smile that hovered on his lips for half a moment before he smiled genuinely at Ginny and introduced himself to Lenor. Since then, Harry moved back and forth between sexes and his longer relationships were quiet, almost surfacey ones with this bloke or that bloke. Even so, Harry had been even more distant with his lovers than he was with his friends. Ron and Hermione were still the only two he confided in about his feelings; and even that was less and less frequently. Harry raised his green eyes to Ron and raised his black brows inquisitively. Ron gave him a pained, helpless grin, having no real explanation for standing over Harry for nearly a full five minutes. Harry pushed at the bridge of his nose habitually. Harry was still, even after the three years of no longer wearing his glasses, not used to not having them. He dropped his hand and waited for Ron to say something. "You hung-over, mate?" Ron asked finally. "No," Harry replied. Ron was quiet for a moment. "Muggles call this depression, Harry. Maybe we sent the wrong wizard to St. Mary's."Harry smiled a little. "Cute."Ron shrugged. "You want to go home early?"Harry raised one raven-colored brow. "I think the real question is: Do you want to go home early?"Ron made a face but managed to grin back. "Well, Hermione wants to cook me some Muggle something or another. She says dinner's at six sharp and I wanted to...you know..."Harry raised his chin and Ron turned beet red. "Well, you know," Ron stammered. "I want to bring her flowers and Merlin save me if I'm late...And don't look at me like that."Harry laughed softly. "How can you still be shy when talking about her?"Ron didn't answer immediately. "I...just can't believe she's mine. That she chose me and she hasn't run away screaming yet. She makes me want to pull my hair out sometimes, mate, to be sure. But...I wouldn't want her any other way."Harry nodded slowly. "That's incredibly romantic, Ron.""Shut up, you git," Ron said laughing as he lunged for to swat at Harry's head. Harry moved his head to the side and stood up. "You go ahead home, Ron. Azkaban allotted time for one more interrogation before Lucius Malfoy gets the Kiss. I'll head over there and then I'll go home."Ron chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment. "I forgot about that."Harry snorted softly. "No, you didn't."Ron looked away for a moment. It was something to wonder at that Ron was able to find it in his heart to show a level of tolerance towards Draco Malfoy while working on the Malfoy case; but Ron refused to acknowledge anything about Lucius Malfoy. The Death Eater had tried to assassinate his parents before the Eve War and was captured by Snape, who, coincidentally, had been speaking to Molly, Ron's mother about something to do with the Order of the Phoenix through The Burrow's fireplace. Snape had instantly Apparated in, Stupefied Lucius Malfoy, and handed him over to the Ministry who immediately sent him to Azkaban. It was rumored that Lucius was present when Voldemort murdered his wife, Narcissa, and did nothing. After a condemning testimonial by Severus Snape in a hearing after the Eve War, Lucius had received an order for the Dementor's Kiss and his execution was later this evening. Ron could find no sympathy in his heart for someone who tried to murder his parents. None at all. And that was probably the only thing he had in common with Lucius' son, Draco Malfoy. "I'll go with you if you need me," Ron said finally. "I don't," Harry said softly but firmly. "You go home to Hermione." "You're sure?"Harry responded by nodding, putting on his cloak, and walking away. Azkaban wouldn't exactly be Harry's choice to spend a holiday, but walking through its dank halls, he couldn't help but feel a measure of satisfaction. There were Death Eaters here that he and Ron had personally arrested, as well as many dark wizards other Aurors had a hand in taking down. The wailing and howling of the imprisoned even made Harry smile grimly, knowing that these wizards had and are getting what they deserved. The Dementors crowding the halls made way for him. Harry had realized, upon his first visit to Azkaban that the Dementors all seemed to shy away from him, apparently knowing he could conjure the Patronus and having no desire to instigate it. Harry turned a corner and approached Lucius Malfoy's cell. Winston Reakley, a crooked, shriveled creature of a man, stood by the cell door with two Dementors on either side. Reakley, a Squib who took to being a sort of caretaker for the Wizarding prison, was unaffected by the Dementors' magical ability to suck the cheer from anyone near it and moved forward instantly when seeing Harry and offered him a smile that had more teeth missing than not. "Ah, Mr. Potter, always on time, always on time," Reakley said in his high-pitched, raspy voice. "Must be quick, Mr. Potter. We're always on time too, always on time.""Thank you for letting me here, Mr. Reakley," Harry said softly. "It's important for the case I'm working on.""I see," Reakley rasped. "Hurry in, Mr. Potter. Hurry in."Harry Potter, used to Reakley's madness and obsession with time, allowed Reakley to open the cell door for him and walked in.Lucius Malfoy still managed to look impeccably groomed despite the years in this worst circle of hell and when he looked up at Harry, he realized Lucius was quite as mad as Reakley. Harry figured he would be a bit off his rocker too if he had to live here. Harry waited for Reakley to close the door and leaned against a damp wall of the dirty cell. "Harry Potter," Lucius drawled, his lip curling into a sneer. "How sweet of you to visit on my Execution Day. Paying your last respects?""Hardly," Harry responded, crossing his arms deep within the folds of his robes. "I came to speak to you about your son.""I have no son," Lucius replied instantly, his eyes flashing silver in his madness. "No son at all. Pity that the Malfoy legacy must end with me. But, alas, all great things must come to an end.""Draco Malfoy," Harry said slowly, trying to trigger a memory. "Draco, your son, is in danger from your colleagues. I know you know of the price on his head. Who sent out the warrant, Lucius?""Is it is up to one million galleons yet?" Harry frowned. "Lucius...all I want is a name."Lucius laughed. It began softly and then erupted into something awful and unpleasant, ringing off the walls of his cell. Harry wondered how often Lucius had to practice the laugh before he mastered that particular effect. "And will you be gracious and convince the Dementors to hold off their Kiss for one more day if I tell you?" Lucius cackled. "Or perhaps you'll show mercy and kill me yourself, saving me from the indignity of losing my soul? What say you, Harry Potter? What say you? I'm quite literally dying to find out.""He's your son, Lucius," Harry grated. "That should mean something to you.""HE MURDERED MY WIFE!" Lucius exploded.Harry shook his head, wondering if Lucius' thoughts were really that warped or if he was faking it. "No, Voldemort did.""It's because of him that Narcissa is dead," Lucius spat. "That weak disgrace is no son of mine.""He is and Death Eaters will murder him too if you don't tell me who sent out the warrant," Harry said quietly. "You could prevent that...like you could have prevented what happened to your wife."The cackle was back and Lucius' eyes gleamed maniacally. "Narcissa got what was coming to her for breeding such a son.""So you acknowledge Draco is your son?""Was hers, never mine. Never mine."Harry was quiet for a long moment and the silence made Lucius shift nervously. "He worshipped you," Harry said finally. "Apparently not enough," Lucius replied with a lift of his chin. "He destroyed everything we stood for single handedly."A muscle in Harry's jaw twitched. Not single handedly, Harry thought. "One last chance, Lucius," Harry said. "Life is abundant with last chances."Harry turned and knocked on the door. Reakley came in the cell and the pair of Dementors followed, floating mere inches from above the ground and hidden in their ragged black cloaks. Reakley grinned at Harry. "Always on time, Mr. Potter. Always on time. Will you watch?""Draco resented you for being everything he wanted to be," Lucius said suddenly, his eyes dark and shaded, pushing himself as far against the wall and away from the two Dementors as possible. "And irony would have it that you resent him for the one thing he could do that you couldn't. Jealousy is a renowned Slytherin trait, Harry Potter."Harry focused all his hatred for Lucius Malfoy into the single nod he gave Reakley before he turned back to Lucius, who was cringing in the corner of his cell. The Dementors advanced on Lucius Malfoy and he began to whimper. "Who sent out the warrant to kill your son, Draco Malfoy?" Harry called out one last time. "He is no son of mine," Lucius repeated a final time. "The answer lies within Slytherin..."Harry watched as the Dementors pulled their hoods down to perform the Kiss with lidded eyes. Lucius screamed once before the two black figures obscured Lucius from Harry's view. A pale light flashed and was swallowed immediately, and Harry heard the distinct sound of a body slumping to the ground. Reakley beckoned to the two Dementors and they followed him from the cell, leaving Harry to peer through the darkness at the dead, soulless father of Draco Malfoy.And Harry wondered if Lucius Malfoy had been dead and soulless all along.~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.A/N: Oh, by the by, in case you all haven't figured it out already, I started writing this story before Deathly Hallows came out, so it's not exactly compatible. I do, however, refer to bits and pieces of the seventh book in later chapters. Sorry for the confusion. I probably should have warned about that at the beginning of the Prologue. My mistake. ~Happy Nightmares, Mr. Smith~ On the other side of the world...*Draco watched the raven-haired man with the brilliant green eyes gaze at the dead man who looked so much like him. He wanted to scream in frustration but couldn't make a sound. Draco didn't know why he was so angry at the dead, white-haired man but a loathing that bordered on hate churned inside of him. Draco turned his glare towards the dark figure with the green eyes. His mind screamed that he knew both of them, but no solid memory was forthcoming. Suddenly, the green-eyed man turned towards Draco, his handsome features troubled with a mixture of surprise and confusion. Draco's scar exploded with white hot pain and he struggled not to lose sight of the man through the fire searing through his head. The man's hair tumbled in unruly, black locks all around his face and his bright green eyes fairly gleamed while they searched the darkness. Draco tried to call out to him but no sound came out of his mouth. Something moved in Draco's mind and his scar erupted with a fresh wave of pain. Trembling, Draco tried to move forward towards the searching green eyes and the moving thing in his mind pushed him back. The man frowned, his eyes turning a grave sort of forest green, and turned away, leaving the cell and Draco's sight of him. Draco roared in his mind, rattling his surroundings until they shimmered and dissipated. Shouting his anger, Draco woke from his dream and clawed at his scar. A Betty rushed into the room and grabbed Draco's arm, inquiring urgently if he was all right. "I'm fine!" Draco screamed and jerked his arm away, frustrated tears gathering in his eyes. "Get away from me!"A Betty-boy stumbled into the room and the Betty turned and whispered urgently to him. Draco sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed, burying his head in his hands. He squeezed his eyes shut against the pain emanating from his scar and tried to concentrate on breathing. "Mr. Smith," the Betty called softly. "Alex is going to fetch you some water and something that will help you rest. Will you be all right while he's away?"Draco nodded but didn't look up until he heard the door shut behind them. Draco stood up on trembling legs and went to his window. The Eagle Owl peered back at him, the shrewd yellow eyes bright and intelligent. "Please," Draco whispered. "Please...bring me something that will help me remember."The magnificent bird bellowed a hoot before spreading his massive wings and taking flight. Draco sat at the table by the window and reached for his notebook, hugging it to his chest for a moment before placing it on the table to write in it. He opened the notebook to the second page and, in his elegant scrawl, began to jot down what he remembered from his dream. He quickly wrote about the cell, the green-eyed man who was already in it talking to the silver-haired man in the corner, the hunchbacked, shriveled man who came in with the black-clad monsters, how they sucked something pearly and white from the silver-haired man, and how the green-eyed man had acted like he felt Draco in the room even though he couldn't see him. And Draco wrote about how he hated the silver-haired man that looked like an older version of himself. The man's hair was much longer than Draco's, but the pale, pointed face was the same. They shared the same cold, gray eyes, the slender yet powerful build, and the same white-blond hair. The man even looked like Draco when he sneered. And Draco hated him. It ate at Draco that he didn't understand why, but he knew. He knew that knew that he knew. He finished the passage with a description of how his scar burned when the green-eyed man looked at him. The green-eyed man. Draco remembered that everything about this man hit him as extremely intense. The perfect angles of his face were intense. The pure green of his eyes were intense. Even his coloring was intense; black hair, pale skin, and green, green eyes. It was the green he remembered the most. No one at St. Mary's had eyes that color. Usually, "green eyes" were dusted and tamed by a myriad of other colors. Not this green. It was pure and bright and wild. Draco closed his notebook and looked around his room, searching the darkness for an answer that was not forthcoming. Alex, the Betty-boy, knocked on his door once before entering. Draco looked up expectantly and the Betty-boy took a step inside the room, carrying a cup of water and a large blue pill. Draco eyed the pill warily but took it when the Betty-boy handed it to him. He placed the chalk-tasting thing in his mouth and used the water in the cup to help him swallow. Suddenly, a woman shrieked behind the Betty-boy and the Eagle Owl swooped into Draco's room from the main hall. The owl flew around Draco once before dropping something at Draco's feet. The Betty-boy shouted and jumped back when they saw it was a snake. The snake twisted and hissed before rearing back his head and glaring around him. The snake's yellow eyes came to rest on Draco's surprised face and hissed. Draco tilted his head to one side, watching the snake watch him and suddenly images began banging through Draco's mind. Images of a young, black-haired boy with round glasses and a thin stick in his hand, standing before him on a blue table with golden moon patterns embroidered into it, staring and hissing back at a snake similar to this one. Then images of green and black snakes buffeted him. Every where were decorations of green, black, and white. Snakes and dragons were painted on walls, stitched into banners, and engraved into bed posters. The images were gone as quickly as they came and Draco found himself stepping back as the Eagle Owl swooped back through, picked up the snake, and ripped its throat out with his large, sharp talons. The Betty-boy lunged forward, trying to grab the owl, but Draco grabbed his arm and threw him back. "No!” Draco shouted. "Don't!"The Eagle Owl circled the room once more before flying back out into the main hall and disappearing in the Ward. Draco found himself praying that the bird made out without an altercation with any of the Betties.Draco let go of the Betty-boy and turned to look at him, confused that his face was swimming in his gaze. Draco's knees buckled and gave out. The Betty-boy caught him and carried him to his bed. "Sweet dreams, Mr. Smith," was the last thing Draco heard before the darkness claimed him. The next day, Draco chewed thoughtfully on a spoonful of oatmeal and tried to remember if he'd tasted anything as terrible as the pile of mush in the bowl before him. Of course he could. It was the pile of mush he'd had for breakfast yesterday. It was a different kind of 'terrible' though. Mettle had called it 'grits' and gobbled his up right away. It had taken Draco a full hour of choking past his gag-reflex long enough to consume most of the bowl's contents. Today seemed a little better in that it may only take roughly three quarters of an hour to choke past his gag-reflex. Draco sighed and looked up when he heard a bit of commotion towards the entrance of the Cafeteria. Draco stood, happy for an excuse to get away from the terrible pile of mush; and Mettle and Bane were instantly up and pushing a way through the gathering crowd for Draco. Approaching the Cafeteria's entrance, Draco could make out the figure of Nina Rolter, one of the few female patients in the Ward, following three Betty-boys who were carrying her luggage towards the Ward's entrance. Catching her eye and seeing her pause, Draco walked up to her and offered her an interested smile. Nina smiled shyly back at him. "They're releasing me today."Draco's fair brows arched skywards. "Are they, now? I had heard they didn't do that often."Nina was quiet for a moment, her soft brown eyes darting around them. Finally she leaned in. "They won't let you go if they think you're crazy," she whispered. "You mustn't let them think you're crazy."Draco nodded gravely as she stepped away again. The Betty-boys had paused and were calling for her. Nina started towards them but stopped again and returned to Draco. Nina reached out and grasped both of Draco's hands. "Nobility isn't about being better than others," Nina said in a hushed voice. "It's about being better than you used to be."Draco blinked and tried to his pull his hands away but she wouldn't release him. "You must understand," Nina whispered fiercely. "You must understand.""All right, Nina," Draco murmured. Nina let his hands go as suddenly as she had taken them, turned on her heel, and walked away. Draco stared after her and thought about what he'd written in his notebook this morning and the night before. The more he thought about it, the madder it sounded. Draco knew he wasn't crazy...but his memories definitely sounded crazy. Draco turned and strode back to Bane and Mettle. He glanced once at Mettle before lifting his eyes to Bane's cruel, icy blue ones. "I need a notebook. A blank one. One that looks identical to the one the Doc gave me.""Consider it done," Bane replied. Later that evening, after Draco had showered and brushed his teeth, a Betty knocked on his door and came in. She handed him a glass of water and a large blue pill. "I don't want it," Draco said. "Doc's orders," the Betty replied cheerfully. "You can take it up with him next week."Draco grabbed the pill and the glass of water, put the pill to his lips, and drained the glass of water. The Betty lifted her chin to inspect Draco's mouth. Satisfied, the Betty took the glass and left the room, closing the door neatly behind her. Draco walked back into his bathroom and tossed the pill, having never left his fingers, into the toilet. As he flushed the toilet he heard his bedroom door open and close again. When Draco emerged from the bathroom he saw a new notebook had been place on his bed. Quickly, he sat on his bed and scribbled a few notes about random things, pretending those things may have triggered some memory and lying about déjà vu. Then Draco placed the notebook on his nightstand and looked over at his window in time to see the Eagle Owl land on his window sill. Draco smiled mischievously at the owl and the bird responded by raising his black ear tufts. "Good night, bird," Draco murmured, pulling the bed covers over his body and laying back against the pillows. "Let's see what other little pearls my dreams will have for me tonight, eh?"The Eagle Owl hooted softly but made no other movement, ever the patient one.* ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~A Slytherin Prince~The following day...*"The answer lies within Slytherin?" Ron mused, tossing a paper ball into the air and catching it distractedly. "Doesn't get much more ambiguous then that, does it?"Harry, who was seated in his chair behind his desk, his head back and staring at the ceiling, and using his legs to swivel himself around and around, grunted noncommittally. "I think he meant it to be. He wasn't exactly falling over himself to save his son."Ron eyed Harry as his best mate twirled himself faster and faster in the chair. "What was it Lucius had said before that again?"Harry placed his feet flat on the ground, causing his spinning to come to an abrupt stop, and tried to remember Lucius Malfoy's exact words. "Something about Draco being jealous of me during Hogwarts," Harry said slowly. "Which doesn't make much sense. Malfoy never wanted for anything. Then Lucius accused me of being jealous of Draco killing Voldemort...and that jealousy was a renowned Slytherin trait."Ron placed the paper ball on Harry's desk, sat backwards in a near by chair, and peered at his partner. "Are you?""No!" Harry answered quickly. "I'd be dead, right?" Ron continued to peer at him but said nothing. "Ron," Harry said, irritation growing in his voice as he stood up and looked down at his life long friend. "Don't be a ridiculous prat. The goal was always to defeat Voldemort. It shouldn't matter who actually did it.""You're right," Ron conceded softly. "It shouldn't."Harry made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat and tossed his head back. "Whatever, Ron," Harry said, grabbing his cloak and throwing it over his shoulders. "I'm going to Hogwarts to talk to Snape. The Head of Slytherin House might know what direction to point us in."Ron nodded and rose to his feet. "I'll stay here and wait for Nickle to file his report." Nickle was the first Auror they had sent to the U.S. to check on Malfoy, and should be returning later this afternoon. "All right," Harry said, grabbing his wand and stuffing it in one of his sleeves. "I'll see you in a few.""In a few," Ron echoed. Severus Snape sighed when Harry Potter walked into his office behind the Potions section of the Hogwarts Dungeon. "To what, pray tell, do I owe the pleasure, Potter?" Snape said, adding the extra special sneer when pronouncing Harry's last name. Harry's smile was condescending and filled with barely restrained malice as he took a seat across from Snape's desk. The civility between them stemmed from necessity during their stand in the Order of the Phoenix; however, a few years of fighting on the same side didn't change six years of ever-present hostility. It was the strangest feeling to Harry, trusting Snape without ever actually giving a damn about him. Their civil rivalry and the charade they always exploited of nearly hating one another was almost their way of clinging to the simple familiarity of the past. It was a nicety they played with, their version of ceremonial exchange, and it suited them just fine. Ron and Snape liked to ignore one another whenever possible but Hermione would often owl Snape for advice on this potion or that potion; which, of course, complimented Snape just enough for him to be civil with the Muggle-born best friend of Harry Potter. "Your godson, of course," Harry answered, lidding his brilliant green eyes. "Why else would I trouble you with my presence?""I never took you for a poet, Potter," Snape replied, without missing a beat. "How is Draco?"Harry paused before answering. Nickle would be returning to the Ministry that afternoon with a full report and they hadn't heard anything suspicious yet. Hermione, of course, having the Muggle-worthy Excuse Committee with the Muggle Protection Act and the International Code of Wizard Secrecy on the brain breathing down her neck these past two weeks, had kept a special eye on St. Mary's and had sent daily reports that all was quiet. "Fine," Harry said finally. "We'll know more later this afternoon."Snape nodded, not able to bring himself to show an actual measure of gratitude. "And?""I spoke to Lucius before he received the Kiss," Harry continued. "He wouldn't reveal who sent out the warrant for Malfoy, but he said the 'answer lies within Slytherin'."Snape stood and walked to the far side of his office, arms folded deep within his robes, like they usually were, and his back facing Harry. Lucius Malfoy had once been a kind of friend to Severus Snape. Technically, Snape had used Lucius more than Lucius had used him, but there had always been something more to the dynamic between them. Lucius had, in fact, named Snape Draco's godfather. Harry suspected it had less to do with Lucius than it did with Narcissa. Harry had often wondered if Snape and Draco's mother had once been lovers. Narcissa's death had been a blow to Snape; almost as heavily as it had been to Draco Malfoy. Snape would never speak of it but since her death, a framed picture of Narcissa Malfoy with a cool smile was an ever-present decoration on Snape's desk. The only one, in fact. "I am not so naive as to believe that all Death Eaters in allegiance with Voldemort were once of Slytherin House," Harry said after a while. "As evident with Pettigrew, Sloper, Edgecombe, and Cadwallader. That being said, if 'the answer lies within Slytherin', we may have a slimmer list."Snape turned back to Harry and stared at him, his beady, black eyes cold and unrepentant. "Ron has made a list of all the Death Eaters on record who have graduated from Slytherin House," Harry went on saying, matching his stare. "I was hoping you would be able to give your professional opinion as Head of Slytherin House."Harry handed him a scroll that had hundreds of names scribbled on it in Ron's tell-tale handwriting. Snape took it from him but continued to level Harry with his stare. "I'm not here to debate the honor of the Slytherin House and the tendencies of those within, Snape," Harry said tiredly. "No," Snape said coldly. "You've made your opinion quite clear."Snape unrolled the scroll and skimmed the list of names. A few that popped up more than once were the bloodlines of Crabbe, Goyle, Zabini, and, of course, Malfoy. Others were Vaisey, Flint, Pucey, Higgs, Warrington, Harper, and many, many more. "I'll ponder these names and let you know if I remember anything overly remarkable," Snape said quietly after some time. "Thank you," Harry said, standing. Harry turned to the door but stopped and came back. "Snape, have you...learned how he did it? You had thought it was a potion."Snape resumed his seat behind his desk before answering and pulled a large book from the shelf behind him. He opened it to a marked page and slid it across the desk. Harry sat back down and peered over the dusty pages. "Horcruxes can only be made by murder," Snape said. "But Draco's intention was never to create a Horcrux. He wanted to use his body as a conduit for the Horcrux that was already in existence. That either requires a dangerous bit of Alchemy that I am fairly certain Draco had no knowledge of...or a very complex potion, called The Verve Channel Electron Elixir."Harry lifted his eyes and met Snape's black ones. "Sounds a bit scientific for a potion."Snape nodded slowly as he eased back into his chair, a contemptuous sneer curling his lip. "Potion making is a science. Really, Potter, sometimes I wonder if I taught you anything." Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek to keep from responding. Snape flicked his wrist dismissively. "Either way, the VCE Elixir doesn't make sense for the time Draco would have had to make it."Harry drew his brows together. "What do you mean?"Snape leaned forward and tapped on the page he had opened the book to that showed how to make the Verve Channel Electron Elixir. "It takes four years and nine months to make, Potter."Harry glanced at the page and then back at Snape. "So does that mean Draco Malfoy is an Alchemist?" Hermione Granger is just going to LOVE that one...Snape lifted his shoulders minutely in a small shrug. "Either that or Dumbledore had told Draco about the Horcruxes in his second year." Snape shook his head. "He barely knew how to ride a broom back then, let alone create a complex elixir like the VCE."Harry frowned and studied the list of required ingredients. He stopped when he saw the Elixir called for the Leerdog Root. "I don't recognize this one," Harry stated, tapping his finger on the page. "It's a root that only grows at the south west tip of the Tien Shen Pass. That's another factor to consider as the Leerdog Root withers within seconds of leaving the dirt and must be placed directly into the cauldron precisely when it is needed.""This means if he did figure a way to make the elixir,” Harry mused, “he would have had to make in the Tien Shen Pass."Snape nodded. "Precisely."Harry was quiet for a moment. "How good was Malfoy at making potions?""Better than most," Snape said. "It's still not probable, though."Harry tsked tsked as he thought to himself. "If there's anything I've learned, Snape, it's that anything is probable in the Wizarding World."Snape snorted. “But then, learning was never your forte, was it?”Harry glared at his former Potions Professor. “And prolonging intelligent, civil discussions was never yours,” Harry replied. Snape sneered but said nothing, satisfied that he’d gotten under Harry’s skin. Harry sat back in his chair and looked around Snape’s office. “Still,” Harry said slowly. “Is there anything to suggest that Draco would have the means and ability to make this potion?”Snape was quiet for a moment. “Yes,” he said finally.“Like what?”“Draco Malfoy was always focused on something,” Snape murmured, remembering. “Always studying, always was pushing himself.” Snape glanced once at Harry’s disbelieving face. “His tendency to torment you and your Gryffindor friends was an outlet for him, I think.”Harry made a face but said nothing. “He studied on holidays, during summer holiday even; he would lock himself in his room and only eat if the house elves pestered him.” Snape paused. “Draco excelled at potion making because he had a knack for it, and not, though I’m sure you would claim otherwise, because of my preference for my godson.”Harry raised an eyebrow and bit back the snarky remark hovering around his thin, disbelieving smile. “Malfoy never hit me as the studying type,” Harry said instead. “Of course not,” Snape snapped. “You were too busy copying off of Granger or wallowing in the misery of your stardom.”Harry crossed his arms and glared at his former Potions Professor, feeling like student again under Snape’s withering glare. “Draco never made real friends because of his habit of locking himself away with this book or that one--except, perhaps, Zabini...but that was more a social agreement then anything else," Snape continued, "and Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson followed him around because...well, because that's just the way it was."Snape glanced at the framed picture of Narcissa Malfoy. "Malfoys always have this aura about them," Snape murmured. "If you're not a Malfoy, and you are Slytherin...it's always in your best interest just to do the Malfoy's bidding."Harry snorted and the glare Snape sent him could have set the Womping Willow aflame. "Why do you think Granger, Weasley, and Longbottom gravitated to you, Potter? Because they could just tell, instantly, that they would be life long friends with you?! No! It was because there was something they sensed about you that seemed right. They knew instinctually that if they walked in your shadow, everything would be fine. It is the same in Slytherin House. There is the Prince, and then there is everyone else."Harry was silent for a moment, tossing this logic around in his head. He thought of the Houses and how there always seemed to be a shining star. Cedric Diggory, Cho Chang, Oliver Wood, Draco Malfoy...and, perhaps, even himself, Harry Potter. "And for Slytherin," Snape said, "it was always a Malfoy.""Why?" Harry asked darkly. "Because they were Pureblood?"It was Snape's turn to smile. "No one is really a Pureblood, Potter. Draco even realized this in his fourth year.""Then why did he insist on all the blood slurs?"Snape slammed his fist on his desk, rattling the frame of Narcissa Malfoy. "Because it angered you, you moron! Why else would he bother you?"Harry scowled and sat back. "It's childish."Snape laughed--a sound Harry hadn't known he was capable of. "Very true, Potter. And believe me; I am in no way making excuses for my godson. Draco is a spoiled brat of a Malfoy who received a measure of satisfaction, and maybe even pleasure, in tormenting you and your friends. He is a perfect git when he wants to be; however, my godson is always more than meets the eye. He is more than his father ever was and keeping up the pretense that he wanted to be just like Lucius nearly killed him...Long before the Eve War and more than once."Harry blinked and remembered Draco as a trembling teenager with his wand pointed directly at Dumbledore. The Slytherin Prince had planned the assassination perfectly but he couldn't kill the Hogwarts Headmaster. Harry remembered the hollow, tired, and terrified look that twisted Draco's features when he had lowered his wand, defeated by his own conscience. And Harry wondered if what Snape was telling him had actual merit. Harry ran a hand over his face and stood. The two exchanged one more long glance, a look that was filled with silent understanding even if they would never admit anything but contempt for one another. Finally, Harry pointed to the book and asked if he could borrow it. Snape nodded and watched Harry mark his place in the vellum text and carefully close it. Without a word, Harry left the Dungeon and strode up the long windy staircase. Harry walked through the old castle with ease, even though something was trying to make itself known in the back of Harry's mind. Harry nodded to Nearly Headless Nick when he floated by and then stopped abruptly in front of the Great Hall. Instantly, Harry turned on his heel and barged through the large double doors and into the Great Hall. All four houses and most of the Professors instantly quieted and turned to stare at him when Harry stopped just inside the Great Hall, seeing that the school was in the middle of their midday meal. Harry turned bright red. He hadn't realized he was going to make such a scene. Harry's eyes quickly searched the Head table and located McGonagall. Beckoning to her, Harry quickly stepped back out of the hall and waited for her. McGonagall was next to him within moments with a bewildered expression splayed across her thin features. "Mr. Potter! What is the meaning of this?""The Time-Turner," Harry said in a rushed voice. "The one you gave Hermione; where is it?""Oh!" McGonagall exclaimed. "Well, I'm sure it's in my office. I haven't needed that thing in years and Granger gave it back to me in your fourth year--""We need to go check," Harry said, his eyes taking on a bright shade of green. "Now!"Harry led a protesting Headmistress McGonagall up to Dumbledore's old office and waited for her to say the password. Once inside the room, Harry waited impatiently as McGonagall rummaged through her things, looking for the small box that held the Time-Turner. Harry had thought all the Time-Turners at the Ministry were destroyed during his battle with the Death Eaters over the Prophecy in his fifth year so he had discarded the idea of Draco using one to make the VCE Elixir the second it had come to him; but he had completely forgotten about the one McGonagall had in her possession. If Draco had found out about it, it was very possible he actually created the Verve Channel Electron Elixir in the Tien Shen Pass during the months of his disappearance. "Here it is," McGonagall said, holding up a box. She opened it and let out a little squeak of a gasp. The box was empty.~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~The Hidden Dark Mark~ Six days later...*Draco Malfoy sat at the table by the window, in his room at St. Mary's, and wrote at a furious pace into the notebook he would bring with him to his appointment with Dr. Laeverton. The week prior, Dr. Laeverton had read his passages over and remarked that Mr. Smith was remembering at a faster rate than he would have expected; and that he looked forward to reading this week's memories. Draco knew that his notebook would have to be convincing in order to get out of this place, so he had spent the morning revising and rethinking all his written passages like his life depended on it. Bane and Mettle watched him write from Draco's doorway. Mettle kept an eye on the Betties in the hall and ushered them away if they came too close. Bane kept his frosty blue eyes on Mr. Smith, watching how his white-blond hair fell into his cold, gray eyes and how he would suck in his bottom lip and draw his brows together in barely restrained annoyance when he ferociously began scribbling down something else into his notebook. Heat pooled in Bane's stomach and he shifted to hide his growing erection within the folds of his loose pants, all the while never taking his eyes from the man who drove him wild with his English snobbery and eyes as cold as the winter dawn. Draco paused in his writing, his hand stilling over his notebook, feeling Bane's eyes on him like a pair of ice cubes sliding down his back. Draco raised his eyes and answered Bane's stare through the white-blond strands of his long bangs. Their obdurate stare was arctic and only when Draco stood to his feet did Bane look away. Draco went to his closet and pulled out a white button-down shirt and a black, cashmere blazer and threw both articles of clothing on the bed. Draco shamelessly pulled off his shirt and Bane watched him through his dark lashes, like Draco knew he would. Draco reached for the white shirt on his bed but paused when he heard Mettle gasp behind him. Draco turned and glared coldly at Mettle. "What is it Mettle?""Your tat, boss," Mettle murmured nervously, his beady eyes darting between Bane and Draco. "Just didn't know you had one, 's all."Draco frowned and tried to look over his shoulder at the skin of his back. When that didn't help, Draco moved into the bathroom and opened the mirrored medicine cabinet at an angle so he could get a clearer picture of his back. Mettle was right; a small tattoo of a serpent twining out of a skull's mouth was etched into the skin between his shoulder blades. Draco glanced at the inner part of his forearm and noticed for the first time what looked like a myriad of criss-crossing scars, so faint, one could barely notice the jagged lines across Draco's skin. Draco looked at the tattoo on his back in the mirror's reflection and thought it was about the same size as the scarring on his forearm. Suddenly, Draco felt a burst of sensation across his back, an echo of pain rather than the real thing, and Draco saw himself in a bathroom, speaking to a transparent girl, and trying to cut something out of his arm. Then the black-haired boy with the round glasses was there and Draco lifted a small stick and pointed it at him, fear and anger knotting his insides. Draco blinked and the images were gone. Draco reemerged from the bathroom to find Bane staring openly at him again. Draco ignored him and went to his bed, picking up the shirt and the blazer and putting them on. After fixing the collar to lay just so around his neck, Draco picked up the notebook filled with lies and walked across the room. Mettle went into the hall but Draco grabbed Bane's arm, stopping him and forcing him to look into Draco's gray and unforgiving eyes. "There is only one thing you need to know about me, you miserable piece of wank," Draco hissed in a voice so low, only the two of them could hear it. "I am untouchable. Keep your filthy fantasies to yourself." Bane's thin lips curved into a cruel smile and Draco wondered why his blood beat faster at the sight of it. "No one is untouchable in St. Mary's," Bane murmured. Draco was quiet for half a moment before he shoved Bane against the doorframe. Draco's eyes burned like ashen coal in a fire as he glared at Bane. "The second I perceive that as a threat, I'll kill you myself, mate."Abruptly letting Bane go, Draco turned on his heel and strode down the hall, disappearing into the Ward. "What the hell was that all about?" Mettle asked worriedly. Bane turned his cruel smile on Mettle but said nothing. "So, what have you discovered about yourself during these past two weeks?" Dr. Laeverton inquired, closing Draco's notebook.Draco stopped himself from snorting dismissively and placed his elbows on his knees, peering through his bangs at the Doc. "That I've always hated jello, I have an extreme low tolerance for stupidity, and that I must've been quite popular during grade school," Draco said, the lies pouring from his mouth close enough to truths to keep him from batting an eye as he spoke them. Dr. Laeverton nodded slowly. "And what does that mean to you, Mr. Smith?"Draco shrugged. "Who doesn't hate jello?"Dr. Laeverton smiled indulgently. "I quite enjoy it myself, Mr. Smith.""You would," Draco muttered under his breath, sitting back in is seat. "What I mean to ask is," Dr. Laeverton continued, "what does that mean to you about your own personality?"Draco sighed. "I don't know.""Sure you do," Dr. Laeverton prodded. Draco spread his hands in an exasperated fashion. "That I'm a snob? That feeling nothing but disdain for you and everyone else here makes me a conceited prat? I don't know Doctor, you tell me. You're the expert." Dr. Laeverton's smile widened. "It seems you are discovering more about yourself than you give yourself credit for, Mr. Smith."Draco's lip curled. "Oh, piss off. I can't help what I am."Dr. Laeverton nodded. "Yes, but it is your choices that define you. How have your choices defined you here St. Mary's?" Draco thought of Bane; and then he thought of Nina. "That I can show a level of tolerance to anyone...as long as I feel they may be able to serve me in some way or another." "Which is natural to every human being I've ever encountered," Dr. Laeverton mused. "Your honesty on the matter tells me that you've often pondered this."Draco said nothing. Dr. Laeverton re-opened the notebook and flipped to a certain page. "It seems here that something Nina said to you struck a nerve."Draco leaned forward to read the passage. '...and then she said, "Nobility isn't about being better than others, it's about being better than you used to be." I understood it somehow, but, at the same time, it frightened me...'Draco frowned. He had thought he placed that passage in his other notebook. Draco shrugged at the Doc and remained silent. "Are you trying to be noble?" Dr. Laeverton asked. "Is that a goal for you?"Draco didn't answer right away but Dr. Laeverton was patient and waited. "I know I'm trying to be different," Draco said slowly. "Not necessarily 'good', in the strictest sense of the word...but different. Better, maybe. And I know I've felt this way long before I lost my memory. That it's an on-going struggle for me, to differentiate between what was expected of me and what I want...and what I want to be."Dr. Laeverton nodded and scribbled down a few notes. "I'm always going to be a snob, Doctor, that much is clear to me," Draco continued softly, staring off into some place Dr. Laeverton couldn't see. "I'm always going to look down my nose at people I feel I am better than. I'm always going to be a sneak and use my resourcefulness to manipulate others and lean towards the darker pleasures in life."Draco thought of how his heart had beat so excitedly in his ears when Bane had turned his cruel smile on him, how that smile had hinted towards dark, unspoken things and that it made his blood quicken and set his body on fire with masochistic desire. Draco took in a deep breath and let it out shakily. He knew that it was those darker, unspoken things that beckoned to him when he was most quiet with himself. When he was silent in his room and heard his mind whisper tauntingly to him, trying to convince him that he was kidding himself for trying to be more than what everyone had always thought he was. "And that's what frightens me the most," Draco said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I can't be completely hateful...and I can't be completely good, either. So what does that make me? Sometimes I'm afraid of remembering. I'm afraid that my memories will tell me that I'm a terrible person without any hope of redeeming myself. And I can't help feeling that I wasn't supposed to survive. That whatever happened that gave me this--"Draco gestured to his scar."--was my coward's way of making up for what I was before. And now that I am alive, I have to figure myself out all over again. Doctor, I don't know if I can do that."Dr. Laeverton was writing rapidly in his notes when Draco had finished and looked up at the young man. His gray eyes looked dull and beaten and his whole body spoke of extreme exhaustion. Dr. Laeverton put his pen down and laced his fingers in front of him. "What would it mean to you if you tried?"Draco closed his eyes and briefly saw the man with the green eyes and the tattoo etched into his own back. "That I will be alone.""And why do you feel that?""Because everyone who knew me as I was either worshipped me or hated me. If I am different now, no one will trust me."*Draco returned to his room more annoyed than when he left it and threw his notebook as hard as he could against the far wall. The Eagle Owl, alarmed, raised his black ear tufts and bellowed a worried hoot. "Shut up," Draco spat at the bird. "You're not helping."The Eagle Owl ruffled his feathers indignantly before spreading his massive wings and flying off. Draco sat on the edge of the bed and stared at his hands. Slowly, Draco's eyes ran the length of his left forearm until they rested on the patch of skin that was marred with faint scarring. Draco reached to the night stand by his bed and grabbed a pen in the top drawer. Shaking it for a moment to get the ink inside to slide to the point, Draco put the ball point to the scarred skin and began drawing the tattoo on his back onto his arm. When he was finished, a boiling mix of horror and hate churned his stomach and rose up the back of his throat as he stared at the snake pouring from the skull’s mouth. Jumping to his feet, Draco ran to the bathroom and vomited into the toilet. He retched and retched until there was nothing left and he was succumbed to sobbing against the porcelain. His wracking sobs were interrupted by the sound of someone entering his room. Quickly, Draco wiped at his face and stood to his feet by the time the intruder came into view. Bane stared at Draco with a mixture of curiosity and residual contempt, his mouth a thin line on his face. Draco glared back at Bane, his whole body trembling with rage. "I warned you, Bane," Draco whispered, the sound of his voice like shattering glass. "I warned you."Bane smiled his cruel smile and took a step forward, the gleam in his eye predatory and maniacal. Suddenly, the bedroom and the bathroom began to shake. The light from the bathroom and the lamp on the nightstand began to flicker sporadically. Anything that wasn’t bolted to the floor rose into the air and sped around the rooms in strange, frantic patterns. Energy snapped and sizzled around Draco as his rage began to manifest itself as wandless, uncontrollable magic. Draco raised his hand and closed it into a fist, while doing so; Bane rose into the air and clawed at his throat. As Draco tightened his fingers, Bane's air supply was cut off and his pale, blue eyes bulged. Bane began kicking his feet wildly as Draco held him there and Draco took a step forward, out of the bathroom, pushing Bane towards his bedroom's door as he did so. Abruptly, Draco shook his head and tried to get a handle on what was happening to him. Draco abruptly flicked his wrist, releasing his magical hold on Bane and sending Bane staggering against the door. Draco approached the gasping Bane and reached out, curling his fingers around the older man's throat. "Get out," Draco spat before letting him go and backing away. Terrified, Bane stared back up at Draco as the room around them began to calm and the levitating objects and flickering lights returned to normal. Finally, Bane scrambled to his feet, opened the door, threw himself out, and closed the door behind him with a resounding thud. Draco looked at his hands, energy still spiking around them, and saw black stars creep into the edge of his gaze. Draco looked around his room and swayed as the room swam in his gaze. Draco lifted his hand to his scar and promptly passed out.~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~An Unlikely Pensieve~ The following day...*Hermione paced back and forth across her office of Muggle Affairs, shooting the Malfoy Case's head Aurors dirty looks every time she passed them. Ron and Harry, for their part, and being used to Hermione's temper, remained quiet. Hermione abruptly stopped her pacing and whirled on them, her brown eyes positively spitting fire. "I CANNOT believe you two did not confiscate Malfoy's owl!"Ron spread his hands helplessly. "'Mione, really, it's not like things like this haven't happened bef--""Ronald, don't you start!" Hermione interrupted him with a stamp of her foot. "YOU two were the ones that insisted that I make sure everything stayed completely 'hush hush', YOU two were the ones that forgot about an owl's tendency to follow their Wizard anywhere he or she happened to go, and now YOU two are the ones who will clean this mess up with the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee!" "'Mione, we really can't afford for anything like this get out," Ron said as he moved forward and rested both hands on his fiancée’s shoulders. "If they find out that that owl is Malfoy's, then everyone will know where we stashed him. You've got to help us cover this up--""No, Ron," Hermione said, shaking her head vigorously. "This is your mess and I have too much to do--""But you know those prats in the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee better than I do, 'Mione," Ron persisted. "And you're the genius here, remember?"Hermione glared at him. "What, precisely, am I going to say to cover this up? And why should I? You just stood there and told me Nickle reported overhearing some Muggle say that Malfoy tried to choke the life out of him without touching him! I still maintain that it's not safe for Malfoy to be locked up with Muggles, Ron! That owl is helping him remember and now he's harming Muggles!"Ron shook his head and offered her a light smile. "They're crazies, 'Mione. Nobody believed him and who says Malfoy knows how to do wandless magic anyway?"Hermione jerked away from Ron and looked at him like if he had two brain cells to rub together, he'd be dangerous. "Ron! Malfoy is a Wizard. Making him disappear with a bunch a Muggles isn't going to change that! His magic is going to come out and if he doesn't have his wand to control it, imagine what he could do! Really, Ron, I wonder if you've thought this out at all.""Well, you agreed to help us, 'Mione," Ron pointed out. "You must've thought that it would have done some good.""Against my better judgment, Ron, if you remember correctly," Hermione snapped. "I cannot believe you forgot about his owl. I thought you two were professional Aurors!"Harry, who had been hiding his smile behind his hand, finally stepped forward. "What do you think we should do, Hermione?"Hermione, startled, whipped her head towards Harry, having forgotten that he was there. "I think you should get him out of there immediately. That Muggle obviously did something to him to set him off. You need to get Malfoy out of confinement, Harry. How would you feel?"Harry breathed in deeply and shook his head. "We designed this so he wouldn't get out for a while, 'Mione, remember? If he started to remember, they would think he was mad and keep him longer.""Nickle said the Ward's therapist had high hopes for his case," Hermione countered. "This doctor doesn't believe Malfoy's crazy at all.""Still..." Harry ran his hands through his hair. "It's too soon."Ron, recognizing the ambiguous look on his partner's face, turned to Harry. "Mate, what are you playing at?"Harry glanced at Ron. "I need more time.""For what?" Ron asked. "As long as we keep him hidden, we'll have plenty of time to fish out those Death Eaters who want to kill the little git.""And he won't be hidden for much longer if you keep him in there, Harry," Hermione said. "He's already causing too much of a fuss."Harry was silent for a long moment. "I have a lead," Harry said finally. Ron drew his brows together in a frown. "And you didn't tell me?"Harry gave Ron a pointed look. "I did. The VCE Elixir."Ron rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "You're not serious, Harry! You're telling me you want to hop on a broom to China to find out how Malfoy did it?""No," Harry said with a shake of his head. Ron let out a sigh of relief. "I'm going to take Witherwings.""What?!""Just give me a week, Ron. I'll be back before you know it.""No, Harry!" Ron nearly shouted. "We've got too much to do. You can't just go to...to CHINA!""I'm going, Ron," Harry said with a stubborn set of his chin. Hermione groaned and buried her head in her hands. "How is this going to help Malfoy?" Ron exclaimed. "Really? This is not influential, in any way, to this case. What do you expect to find there?""Answers.""To what?!"Harry shrugged. "I have to know, Ron."Ron crossed his arms and leant against a wall with a dark look on his face. "Why can't you just let it be, Harry? WHY do you have to know?""I don't know.""That's bollocks, Harry, and you know it.""No, it's not."Ron pushed himself off the wall and glared at his best mate. "Then why?""Because," Harry murmured, not quite looking at Ron or Hermione. "Because I have to know why he didn't just kill me. I have to know why he spent almost five years making a potion so I didn't have to die."Ron ran a hand through his red locks. "He couldn't kill Dumbledore, remember Harry? Maybe it's just not in him to kill. It happens to the best of us.""He killed Voldemort."Silence fell heavily around the three of them after Harry said this. Ron glanced at Hermione, who tilted her head to one side and shrugged. "Fine," Ron murmured. "You have one week."Harry landed his broom outside of Madam Leilane's Stable for Magical Creatures and paid a stable boy to care for his broom. He went inside the office briefly to speak to Madam Leilane, notifying her that he would be taking Witherwings out and would be back in a week's time. Inside the stable, Harry respectfully bowed to the majestic Hippogriff, keeping eye contact until Witherwings nodded to him, and then approached him. Harry quickly readied the large creature for the long journey they would take, saddling the Hippogriff and attaching a rolled blanket, some powdered packets Fred and George, Ron's inventive brothers, had made that would turn into three course meals once adding water and uttering a quick, uncomplicated spell, and then called for his broom. Once Harry had fastened that as well, he smiled fondly at Witherwings, who tilted his head at Harry. "I need you to take me to the south west corner of the Tien Shen Pass, Witherwings," Harry murmured. "It's in China and we're looking specifically for an area that grows Leerdog Root."Witherwings nodded and bowed so that Harry could mount him. Once astride, Harry made a noise of encouragement and Witherwings took off at a gallop, leaping into the air and heading east.*It only took a handful of hours to reach the Tien Shen Pass, where, with an exultant cry, Witherwings swooped down between the rows and rows of imperial mountains and Harry, feeding off of the Hippogriff's excitement, let loose a triumphant shout of his own. Locating the Leerdog Field, however, consumed the rest of the day. And so, sore, hungry, and minutely agitated, Harry and Witherwings finally spotted the Leerdog Field as the sun was setting in the western sky. The shadows were growing long and ominous when they touched the ground and Harry fought with himself on whether he should continue his search or postpone it for the next day. However, once Harry jumped off of Witherwings’ back, the Hippogriff caught a scent of something that beguiled him northwards. Groaning his complaints, Harry followed the massive creature as it bee-lined through the Leerdog Field towards a stretch of trees. Once inside the forest, Witherwings continued to walk at an unhurried pace until the Hippogriff located a small lake. Harry watched uninterestedly as Witherwings paused to drink his fill and, becoming bored with that, began to wander around the lake. Harry paused when Witherwings splashed into the lake after a large fish and allowed himself a small laugh as the Hippogriff pranced through the shallow water. Suddenly, Harry squinted, spotting something across the lake. He silently summoned his broom from Witherwings' back and flew towards the object. Upon reaching it, Harry saw that it was a pile of moth-eaten clothing and further on was a clothesline connected to two trees with a cloak and a pair of pants hanging from it. Everything looked old and tattered, as if it hadn't been touched in years. Searching the ground for human foot steps or anything else to track, Harry began noticing other things on shaded dirt. A pair of shoes, some old runes, an unopened packet of Exploding Snap, and even an abandoned book. When Harry looked back up, he could make out the outline of a small hut behind some trees. Approaching the hut, Harry discovered that, not only did it have a makeshift door, but a chimney and few windows as well. Harry called out before opening the door and, receiving no reply, entered the hut. Inside, the small hut gave way to a large, magicked, and surprisingly well-furnished room; complete with a kitchenette, a sort of bed room, and an open space where a large cauldron sat surrounded by books on potion-making, genealogies, and ancient magic incantations. Harry sat on his heels by the cauldron and checked the ash underneath, rubbing it between his fingers. Harry decided this cauldron had not been lit a long, long time and stood up. Harry walked around the room, running his fingers carefully on books and counters, and using his wand to check out anything that looked questionable. While the magic that furnished this room and expanded it to be larger than the hut that contained it kept the room safe from insects and animals, there was a thick layer of dust coating everything. Harry walked over to the where a small cot was laid out, no doubt the inhabitant’s bedroom, and sat down. Harry's beryl eyes searched around the cot and inspected the little chest of drawers beside it. Harry opened the topmost drawer and retrieved a small bag made of dark silk. He opened the bag and pulled out a small object, nodding to himself as he did so. It was McGonagall's Time-Turner.Harry drew in a breath and let it out slowly. He rose to his feet and walked back over to the cauldron. He bent down and began shifting through the dusty stacks of books. Harry abruptly froze, causing a teetering stack of vellum parchment to topple sideways and scatter across the floor. Harry squinted, his eyes taking in and recognizing the runes etched into the stone receptacle hidden in the far right corner of the room behind a pile of books. Harry moved forward slowly and looked down into the basin. There, inside the stone basin's middle, were dozens of glowing threads, swimming and floating around one another; not quite gas and not quite water-like substances. Harry continued to stare, stunned despite himself, as he sat cross-legged in front of the object, remembering one identical in Dumbledore's office and having used it with the late Headmaster on more than one occasion. Draco Malfoy had had himself a Pensieve.~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~Unwarranted Guessing Games~The following morning...*Ron opened his bright blue eyes and was welcomed by the sight of Hermione gazing fondly at him. He reached out and pushed back an unruly curl from her face. Hermione smiled and snuggled closer to her fiancée, wrapping an arm around Ron's slim waist. "'Morning," Ron murmured and stretched languidly. Hermione grunted and buried her face into her lover's shoulder. Hermione had moved into Ron's small flat the night he had proposed to her and though their moments together were few and far between, Ron never tired of waking up to her. "Do you have a lot to do today?" Ron asked, running his fingers through her untidy curls. Hermione nodded against his shoulder. "I have a meeting with your dad at nine and then a budget meeting at eleven," Hermione mumbled groggily. "Sounds terribly exciting," Ron said and was rewarded with Hermione digging her fingers into his ribs in an attempt to tickle him. Ron squirmed until he fell out of the bed, laughing. Hermione, grinning, sat up and placed her bare feet on the hardwood floor. Hermione stretched and Ron watched her with a wicked gleam in his blue eyes. Hermione, wearing nothing but one of Ron's oversized shirts, frowned at him and shook her head. Scowling, Ron stood to his feet and held his hand out for her. Taking it, she let out a surprised squeak when Ron pulled on her hand roughly, causing her to crash into Ron. Ron grasped her shoulders and gave her a noisy, passionate kiss before swatting her behind and walking into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Hermione left the bedroom and went into the kitchen to prepare them their ceremonial pot of coffee. "Do you think Harry found the Leerdog Field yet?" Hermione called from the kitchen. Ron grunted around a mouthful of foamy toothpaste and shrugged, though she couldn't see him. "Well, I think he did," Hermione said in that haughty voice that was so uniquely Hermione Granger. "He found all those Horcruxes, remember?"Ron spit out his toothpaste and snorted before pouring himself a little cup of minty green mouthwash. "With our help," Ron said before gargling the mouthwash. "And one of them wasn't even a Horcrux 'cause there were only supposed to be seven; and Harry was the seventh," Ron said after he had spit out the mouthwash and wiped his mouth with a towel. He splashed some cold water on his face before pulling off his t-shirt and walking into the bedroom and discarding the article of clothing into the clothes bin. Hermione leant against a counter in the kitchen, listening to the coffee gurgle as it brewed. "How do you suppose Malfoy knew that? None of us did."Ron shrugged into a black button-down shirt and pulled on some dark slacks before putting on his Auror robes. "I don't know, 'Mione," Ron called back with a dismissive roll of his eyes. "Maybe he used McGonagall's Time-Turner to see what would happen when Harry fought ol' Voldy."Hermione blinked before turning to retrieve two mugs from a cupboard. "Wow, Ron. I never thought of that," Hermione said as she poured them some coffee into the mugs. Ron turned the corner and entered the kitchen, a snarky grin plastered across his freckled features. "Yeah, and I think it's about time you admitted that, after all this time, I am, in fact, smarter than you."Hermione laughed in his face as she handed him his coffee. "In your dreams, Weasley."Ron made a face at her before taking a sip of his coffee. "So, what are you doing today?" Hermione inquired, taking a sip from her own mug. "Well," Ron said, his blue eyes twinkling. "I thought I'd fancy a walk in the park--something I never get to do with Harry around. Then, maybe, I'll go to the pub and get pissed. After that...I'll meet up with you for a quick shag before playing Quidditch with Victor Krum until my arse gets sore."Hermione punched him the shoulder, laughing. "You're a right dolt, you know that?"Ron chuckled and pulled Hermione into a warm hug. "No, really, I think I'd better get started on moving Malfoy.""To where?""His own flat, I suppose," Ron said, resting his chin Hermione's head. "That was the plan, right?"Hermione nodded and pulled away so she could see Ron's face. "Why don't you think Malfoy wouldn't have been able to handle staying hidden with his memory intact?""Because he hates Muggles."Hermione frowned. "But, if Malfoy actually used McGonagall's Time-Turner to make the VCE, then that's almost five years of Draco we don't know about. Who's to say that...that maybe...?”"That what?" Ron scoffed. "That Malfoy had some soul changing journey during that time and now he's miraculously this Muggle-loving angel?""No," Hermione said slowly. "Just that...maybe he's a little more responsible. That he's more mature than we're giving him credit for. And that the stress of only remembering bits of pieces from his former life is more stressful than the alternative that no one seemed inclined to consider.""What alternative?""To allow Malfoy the right to choose."Ron sighed and took another swallow from his coffee. "I don't know, 'Mione. Hind sight's always 20/20."Hermione gasped. "Ron! That's a Muggle saying!"Ron shrugged. "Heard it from my dad once. Don't ask me what it means."Laughing, Hermione placed her now-empty mug into the kitchen sink and wandered back into the bedroom to get dressed. "You'll need help," Hermione called from the bedroom. "With what?""Relocating Malfoy."Ron finished his coffee and placed the mug into the sink. "Yeah, that's why I was hoping you could squeeze me into your busy schedule before nine."Dr. Laeverton stared at the file on his desk, trying, for the thousandth time, to figure out what made Mr. John Smith seem so very different from every other patient he had ever encountered before. Dr. Laeverton took out a photo of Mr. Smith and stared at it contemplatively. Mr. Smith's coloring was definitely odd. The platinum, nearly white hair that was so long when he had arrived here was actually his natural hair color, and not dyed as the Doc had previously suspected. Mr. Smith had insisted on getting his hair trimmed within his first week's stay, and now Mr. Smith was always seen in immaculate and refined clothing, his hair laying about his face just so, and his posture emanating an easy grace that so few people on this planet could pull off. Mr. Smith's pale skin and slender jaw was set off by a pair of pale, gray eyes that took in everything, held many secrets, and drove right into the heart of a person when he looked at them. To be honest, Dr. Laeverton was actually increasingly uncomfortable around the young man. Just by watching him, the Doc could surmise that Smith was bred from a wealthy family. The way he walked, the cultivated British drawl with which he spoke, and the way his dark gray eyebrows raised ever so slightly whenever something surprised him, the only inclination, in fact, that he was ever taken off guard. Even after all this, Dr. Laeverton would have to say that it was Smith's way of slipping into a charisma that swept anyone, man or woman, of their feet so easily it was like Smith could switch it on and off with a snap of his fingers. Seeing this about Smith made the Doc even more certain that Smith's file stating that he was raised in an American Foster Home was complete and utter crap. The way Smith acted wasn't a show. These things were engrained into him, trained into him by someone or a group of people who raised him. Dr. Laeverton was convinced of this and could only curl his fingers in frustration at the fact an amnesiac patient of his was sent to his Ward with a false file. Why someone would do that for an innocent reason eluded him. It was a mystery to the Doc that he was committed to resolving before letting the white-haired boy out of his sight.And another thing that confused Dr. Laeverton was Smith's age. He couldn't put his finger on exactly why, but Smith seemed so much older than twenty-one. His cold, gray eyes told the Doc he was soul weary and wary of everything and everyone. As if something told him that he was different and that things and people he was not familiar with were not to be trusted. And Dr. Laeverton was certain he was remembering more than what Smith was telling him. Which bothered him in the sense that he was afraid Smith was not going to know how to do deal with these secret memories; and not in the sense that Smith was lying to him. Dr. Laeverton was never all that certain if Smith was lying to him or not. Everything about their sessions seemed open and honest, albeit a bit sarcastic at times, but that was to be expected during honest and vulnerable communication. What they did discuss left Dr. Laeverton with the feeling that Smith was really progressing in assessing and understanding his thoughts and feelings towards his surroundings. However, what they didn't discuss, those secret things hovering behind, Smith's cold, gray eyes, was what worried the Doc. Why didn't Smith want to talk about those things? Why did Smith feel he had to keep them secret? Was Smith remembering things that would potentially place him and others in danger if anyone found out?Dr. Laeverton sighed and tossed the photo back into the file and closed his eyes, rubbing at his temples with his index fingers. The mystery that surrounded John Smith was beginning to get under his skin. And patients rarely did that to the Doc. Sally, a Betty and Dr. Laeverton's secretary, knocked softly on the door to his office. "Yes?""You have a call on line one," Sally called from the other side of the door. "Thank you, Sally."Dr. Laeverton picked up the phone and pressed the blinking red button. "This is Dr. Laeverton.""Hello doctor," a male voice said on the other line. "My name is Christian Hale and I am with the Department of Social Services. I understand you have a John Smith in custody?"Dr. Laeverton frowned. "Yes, I do. He is a patient here.""Good," the male voice said. "I was calling to inform you that Benjamin...er, Worcestershire..." The man's voice was a abruptly muffled when he inquired to an unknown party if he had said the name right. "Yes," the man said, returning, "Benjamin Worcestershire, a Social Worker here, will be visiting St. Mary's in two weeks time to discuss the rehabilitation prospects for one Mr. Smith."Dr. Laeverton raised an incredulous, salt and pepper brow. "And when did you plan on sending him here?"There was a sound of ruffling papers, and then: "How does Wednesday at 2pm work for you, Dr. Laeverton?"Dr. Laeverton glanced at his calendar. "I am free but--""Excellent! You have a wonderful day, Dr. Laeverton!"The call abruptly ended and the Doc found himself staring at the receiver as if it would suddenly come alive and devour him whole. Ron pulled his wand away from his throat and smiled cheerfully. "Well, that went well." Ron glanced at Hermione, whose eyes were alight with silent laughter. "Oh, come off it! You're the one coming up with all these ridiculous names. So what if I can't pronounce Worcesessh...Worcestshire, no...Worcestershire...you know what? I loathe you, you criminal."Hermione was now laughing so hard she had tears running down her face. "Go on, darling," Hermione said, wiping at her face. "Do say something else."Ron glared at the love of his life, his ears turning red as an embarrassed flush crawled up his neck. "No, really. I loathe you."* ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~Color Behind the Gray~Part I Later that afternoon...**"Finally!"It took hours for Harry to find the small journal that held the whispered incantations that would unlock Draco Malfoy's Pensieve, hidden beneath it under the floorboards, and even longer, after uttering a series of complex unlocking charms, to figure out that a simple "Alohomora" would open the unmarked journal. Harry stared at the first page of the journal, squinting to make out the small, elegant scrawl. 'My Will' was written at the top of the page and, directly below it, the incantation that would seclude that particular memory in the Malfoy heir's Pensieve. Harry sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the Pensieve, the journal in his lap and his heart racing so quickly he actually paused to wonder why. No reasonable answer forthcoming, Harry murmured the short incantation and watched the blue-green string-like memory rise to the top of the basin. Dipping his head in and concentrating on that particular memory, Harry felt the familiar fall and sway of merging into another person's memory. Blinking to take in his surroundings, Harry found himself staring at Draco Malfoy; seated in front of a dusty mirror near the cot of the very same room Draco had hidden his Pensieve. His hair was long and wild, nearly to his shoulders and framing his long face in almost a bedraggled way. Harry had never seen him look so unkempt. His black robes were tattered and frayed, lying around his long, thin frame like an oversized blanket, and his eyes were tired and bloodshot. Draco ran a hand through his hair, perhaps in an attempt to tame the frazzled, platinum locks, and glanced once into the mirror before averting his eyes. Draco took in a deep breath and began to speak, his voice low and raw. "Congratulations", Draco murmured. "If you are watching this, it means I have been successful and the Dark Lord is dead. No Death Eater bearing the Dark Mark can use my Pensieve save I, and I am assuming you are an Auror; but then, like so many things, my assumption is left to chance."I will not explain why I have adjusted my Will. There will be many adjustments and they will be strange, especially for a Malfoy. All the same, I am leaving this as my last testament and perhaps it will have the Daily Prophet speculating for years to come and pureblood families screaming denial for even longer. Even so, this is as it is."First, my godfather, Severus Snape, should he survive, will be awarded all of my inheritance except the Malfoy Manor and the Malfoy Library. The Manor will be given to Molly Weasley, a distant cousin of my godfather's, but a cousin just the same. The Library will be given to the Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Be sure to tell her not to trust the genealogies for I have found they can be most deceiving, but everything else may be used to her digression."Draco smiled, his lips curving in a wry, secret smile, and his lips twinkling with mysterious mirth. Draco allowed himself a small laugh before continuing, his voice once again so soft Harry found himself straining to hear it. "Harry Potter may have my Nimbus Two Thousand One, who was quite green with jealousy over it in our second year."Harry snorted really hard and rolled his eyes."And, if my body survives the battle," Draco continued, the mischievous glint in his gray eyes vanishing suddenly as he leans forward towards the mirror. "I wish to be buried outside of Malfoy hollowed ground. I am not attached to where. Just...not there." Draco leaned back, chewing on the inside of his cheek as his eyes took on a faraway look. "And if there is confusion about my inheritance even still being mine, trust that even if my father would deny me verbally, he would never, ever do so officially. Malfoys are never that way. Until my name is scratched out of the Malfoy Tree, my inheritance is mine to do with as I will. And it is; this is my Will. And it is final."Draco took in a shuddering breath and let it out slowly, as if the words he had spoken took an incredible amount of strength and courage. Harry watched as the image of Draco shimmered and faded as the memory came to an end and Harry was thrust out of the Pensieve. Harry glanced down at the journal in his lap, the confused, rabid thoughts in his head racing around, bumping, and crashing into one another. What the hell is Malfoy playing at? Is he actually serious? He would give the Weasley family the Malfoy Manor with his final wish? And the Malfoy Library to Hermione, who he had tormented with blood slurs for years and years at Hogwarts? Why?Harry's fingers trembled as he turned the page and read the words written there. 'My Mother's Funeral'. Harry quickly murmured the incantation that would unlock the memory and bent into the Pensieve. Draco Malfoy walked slowly towards the open casket, paying no heed to the cold stares of those gathered around the coffin. The day was gray with steady drizzle and most of those assembled were hidden beneath wide, black umbrellas. They parted for him as Draco stepped unhurriedly towards the body of his mother, Narcissa Malfoy, a single white rose clutched in his hand. Draco's hair was trimmed and styled as it usually was but slightly damp from the weather, causing his bangs to fall into his eyes. His suit was black and simple, his shoes shiny and polished, and his walk as graceful and proud as it ever was. The only evidence of anxiety was in his white-knuckled grip on the rose in his hand. Slowly, as the thorns on the stem bit into the soft flesh of Draco's palm, red, red blood began to seep through his fingers as he made his way slowly down the aisle the people around him made for him, adding a splash of color to the dreary gray world that surrounded them. Finally, Draco reached the casket and gazed down on his mother's pale, still face. He seemed to stand there forever and when he finally lifted his hand, and the rose within it, the people crowded around him shifted and peered closer, their black eyes revealed from under the rim of their umbrellas. Placing the rose carefully into the other hand, Draco smeared the blood from his hand across the pure white of the rose's petals before setting the rose atop his mother's carefully clasped hands. Draco leaned over the rim of the casket to place a kiss on Narcissa's brow but a Wizard clad in dark, billowing robes moved forward and pressed the tip of his wand against the back of Draco's neck and Draco whirled, his wand ready in his hand, pointed directly back at the assailant. Instantly, thirty wands were pointed at the Malfoy heir and Harry found himself moving forward to aid him. Remembering that he was inside the Pensieve, Harry paused while reaching for his wand and watched carefully as Draco coldly stared back at the nameless Wizard. "You may not touch her," the nameless Wizard said. Draco smiled cruelly but said nothing. "It's your fault she's dead and your father's in Azkaban," the Wizard continued. "You are a blood-traitor of the worst kind, Draco."Draco raised his chin and looked down his nose at the wizard. "Oh?""Yes!" the Wizard hissed and murmurs of agreement sounded throughout those assembled. Harry looked around for the first time, recognizing dozens of Death Eaters and their families. Harry still couldn't place the wizard speaking to Draco, having never seen him before; however, Draco seemed like he knew him. "So, tell me, All Knowing One," Draco whispered through his teeth, emotion in the shape and color of anger surfacing in him for the first time. "How many of you must I kill before I can kiss my mother goodbye?""That is enough!"Draco stiffened and the nameless Wizard flicked his beady eyes toward the source of the exclamation. Bellatrix Lestrange lowered her umbrella and glared around her. "Let the boy say his goodbyes," she said, her voice icy and commanding. "In honor of Narcissa Malfoy, no one here will utter a single curse or provoke one. This day is for grieving. However, after this day, Draco Malfoy, you are forthwith exiled from the Dark Lord's circle and no longer a Death Eater. By his order, from the second you leave this place, you are to be killed on sight. Do you understand?"Slowly and one by one, the wizards and witches around Draco lowered their wands and Draco turned to Bellatrix and regarded her solemnly. "I understand."Bellatrix nodded curtly, her gaze still unforgiving and ice cold, and turned away. Draco once again approached the casket and placed a chaste kiss on his mother's pallid forehead. Draco swallowed a gulp of emotion back down his throat, shutting his eyes briefly as he silently wished Narcissa a final farewell. In a burst of swirling black magic, Voldemort suddenly appeared, flanked by three more Death Eaters. Draco straightened and stared back at the Dark Lord as his snake's face sneered at the Malfoy heir. "Hello, Draco."Rage burned behind Draco's eyes as he glared at Voldemort. "How dare you speak to me at my mother's funeral, you illegitimate Half-blood filth!" Draco spat, his features sharpening dramatically as his wrath boiled just beneath the surface. Instantly, Voldemort's sneer vanished amidst a blazing glare and his long fingers twitched around his wand. But then, a wide, knowing smile curved maliciously along the lower half of his frightening face. "Our little dragon is having a tantrum," Voldemort said. "Don't you worry, Draco. Your time will come."Draco's fingers curled into fists. "Yes, it will," Draco replied icily. "And when it does, those minutes will be your last. I swear it, Voldemort."Voldemort hissed a demeaning laugh and was rewarded with a murmur of chuckles from his Death Eaters. "We will see," Voldemort said with a flick of his wrist. "Go on then. Run away, Draco. It is, after all, what you are best at."Draco took a step forward but Bellatrix caught his eye with a meaningful glare. "Fine," Draco whispered and Disapparated. Instantly, the memory vanished and Harry was more forcefully thrown from the Pensieve. Landing heavily on the floor, Harry winced as he sat up, his eyes wide and processing.Harry remembered feeling empathy for Draco Malfoy the night of Dumbledore's death, knowing that Draco's end of the deal was as shite as the rest of theirs. Harry also distinctly recalled the mixture of shock and awe that had welled up inside of him the night of the Eve Battle as he watched ancient magic bless Draco with a second chance at life for his sacrifice. Over the years, even after taking on Malfoy's case in a response to Harry Potter's expected honor, Harry had convinced himself that whatever Draco's motives for killing Voldemort, that it had to be somehow selfish. That it had to be stemmed from some sort of cowardice or fame searching glory. After witnessing only two of Draco's memories, Harry found himself cursing his Gryffindor nature for reminding him that perhaps Draco Malfoy was more than had ever met the eye. Harry had been in the Dark Lord's presence multiple times before Voldemort's death three years prior and knew the automatic terror that would take a hold a person and nearly choke the life out of him by just looking at the Dark Lord. That Draco was able to remain cold and thoroughly composed while his mother's murderer defiled her funeral with his presence and not fly of the handle and do something that would inevitably get him killed was completely amazing. Draco was even able to remind Voldemort that he was the son of a Squib and a Muggle without, in turn, receiving the Killing Curse. That too, was something to wonder at. Harry knew that there was more to the riddle of why Voldemort did not kill Draco, and that he let him escape from his presence and was left alone for nearly a year. Though, even after all of this, Harry couldn't help but acknowledge Draco for the incredible willpower it must have taken for him to walk through a crowd of Death Eaters who would see him dead to pay his final respects to his mother, and then keep his cool when Voldemort taunted him. Harry Potter was no stranger to grieving a parent. He understood the awful, digging pain of knowing that he was, in some part, responsible for his mother's death. So, Harry, as much as it seemed unnatural to do so, sympathized with the Malfoy heir. When Harry thought about Draco's Will, his frown grew so fierce it hurt his face. After all of this, Harry still could not fathom why he would become so charitable towards the Weasleys and Hermione Granger. Maybe Draco's journey actually did shift something his soul. Why else would he do that? And what actually shifted?And why Hermione and the Weasleys?Why, for the love of Merlin, did Draco Malfoy save him?Perhaps more color lay behind those cold, one-dimensional gray eyes than originally anticipated. ~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Poem Draco recites is from ~410, T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land ~ ~Color Behind the Gray~Part II The next morning...*Harry woke with a start and blinked, his head turning this way and that as he tried to remember falling asleep. His eyes rested on the Pensieve and for a long moment, his thoughts of the previous night flooded his mind. Silently, Harry shook his head and dispelled the screaming war between his Gryffindor conscience and the darker part of him he refused to acknowledge. Strange thing was, Harry had a distinct impression that both sides were screaming for the same thing even if he wasn't sure what it was exactly. Harry swallowed and ran a hand through his jet-black hair. Every muscle in his body hurt like hell for falling asleep on the floor and he stood to his feet, his legs shaky beneath him. Harry fixed himself a small breakfast before resuming his seat in front of the Pensieve. Opening the journal to the third page, Harry nearly dropped the journal after reading the title of the page. 'A Visit to Dumbledore'.Harry bit his lip and muttered the incantation, throwing himself into the memory with more vigor than before. Harry followed an older Draco, perhaps twenty, through the secret stone passages of the Hogwarts castle. Draco glanced around him before turning the corner and quietly murmured the password that would lift Draco to Dumbledore's office. Once inside, Dumbledore looked up from his own Pensieve and they stared at one another for many minutes. Harry glanced out of one of the windows and noticed first years being boated across the lake. It must be the first day of his sixth year. That knowledge made his head spin. Dumbledore finally nodded. "You found McGonagall's Time-Turner, didn't you?"Draco remained still by the stairs, as if afraid he may have to flee at any moment, but his eyes gave the affirmation. "I did."Dumbledore was quiet for half a moment longer before waving Draco to a chair. "Have a seat, Draco."Draco stared at the chair like it was a vile thing ready to come alive and devour him, but he finally made his way over and sat down. Draco Malfoy had taken on that wild, frayed look again, and Harry concluded that as he continued to live in the Tien Shen Pass, Draco gradually cared less and less about his appearance. His journey here with the Time-Turner must have taken an incredible amount of planning and Harry suspected he understood the device much better by now. Harry wondered how old Draco actually was. If he was continually going back and forth through time to create the VCE, visit Dumbledore before his death, and who knew what else, there really was no telling how old Draco was now. If Harry had to guess, he would say somewhere between twenty-four or twenty-five. Draco was staring at his finger nails like they were foreign things, the once vainly polished and kept fingers now cracked and dirty. Dumbledore gazed down at him with his soft eyes and the office grew extremely quiet. Finally, the Hogwarts Headmaster cleared his throat. "I have first-years to sort, Draco," Dumbledore said gently. "I am assuming that you came here to tell me something."Draco inclined his head and looked up; the dark smudges under his eyes making the gray irises look brighter and more fevered. "Voldemort orders me to kill you this year."Dumbledore sits back in his chair. "I see.""He threatens to kill my parents," Draco continued in a hollow, miserable voice. "And so I use the Room of Requirement to let Death Eaters into the school. My godfather swears an Unbreakable Vow to my mother to protect me. And...I cannot bring myself to kill you so Snape does." Draco raised his eyes and met Dumbledore's. "But he's loyal to you, I swear it."Dumbledore pursed his lips and breathed in through his nostrils. "I believe you, Draco," Dumbledore says finally. "Do you become a Death Eater this year?"Draco laughed a dead, sardonic laugh, the sound pushing over the tips of his teeth like the rustling of dry, autumn leaves. "I receive the Dark Mark over the summer, I scratch it out with Myrtle as my witness, and Voldemort re-brands me in the spring."Dumbledore's sharp eyes fasten on Draco's and the Headmaster tries to decipher the hidden pain there. "And what becomes of your mother?""I do not kill you," Draco whispers as Dumbledore’s eyes bore into his own. "So, the Dark Lord punishes me with her death.""Oh, Draco...""Don't pity me, Dumbledore," Draco bit out. "I believe I did the right thing by not harming you, Headmaster, but every day, I regret it."Dumbledore's sharp eyes soften as he regards the near-adult version of Draco Malfoy; the tired hunch of his shoulders, the weary pull of his eyes. "And what are you doing now?""I am exiled.""The Order of the Phoenix will take you in."Draco began laughing aloud, the pitch of his voice harsh and unforgiving. "As a refugee? I bet Potter would just love that.""There's more to him than you realize," Dumbledore argued. Draco snorted. "Like forgiveness? Really, Headmaster, Potter is better at pity and mercy. Forgiveness has never been one of his outstanding qualities."Harry swallowed and glanced away, knowing it was true. "All the same, you need to be protected.""No, Dumbledore," Draco murmured, his voice taking on a quietness that chilled Harry to the bones. "This time, I will be doing the protecting. No more people will die for me.""It's not your fault for being a good person, Draco."Draco chuckled sarcastically. "It's amazing how much effort I put into trying to be the contrary, Headmaster. Why couldn't I just be like my father?""You are just like your father," Dumbledore countered. "You only differ in your choices, Draco. You will always be what you are and you will always suffer because you will choose what you feel is right in your heart. You are Syltherin and that choice will always be harder for you than for a Hufflepuff or a Ravenclaw, and especially a Gryffindor."Draco looked away. "That is why I cannot go to the Ministry or to the Order of the Phoenix. They would never understand me as you do. They would never trust me. Potter is their hero, not I.""Assumptions are the workings of a lazy mind."Draco looked back at Dumbledore and smiled. "I suppose so. But I am stubborn.""That you are.""Good bye, Headmaster," Draco said softly as he and Dumbledore rose to their feet. Dumbledore walked toward the staircase and paused before exiting. "You may visit me any time you like, Draco, if you would care for my boorish company."Draco smiled and watched Dumbledore leave. The image shimmered and faded, leaving Harry outside of the Pensieve and staring at the footnote at the bottom of the page. '~from this day onward, I met frequently with Albus Dumbledore. It wasn't until the winter that I realized that this was why Dumbledore had acted so strangely to me the night I let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts.'Harry turned the page and read 'Being Re-Marked' at the tope of the page. Harry whispered the incantation, quickly becoming addicted to Draco's memories, and leaned forward into the Pensieve. Harry found himself in a cold, stone room with minimal furniture. Harry turned in a circle and spotted a young, seventeen year old shivering Draco Malfoy huddled in the corner, his gray eyes bright and wild with fear. His eyes were red-rimmed and blood shot from recent tears and blood ran down the fingers of his left hand in thin streams and dripped on the stone floor to pool by his feet. Harry moved and crouched down beside him and looked up into his face.Harry had an overwhelming urge to console him, to wrap the terrified teenager up in his arms and rock him to sleep. Draco looked so pathetic it pulled at Harry's heart and made him angry at whoever was doing this to him. A feeling that would have been most unwelcome during his own sixth year. Draco's lips parted and his eyes glazed over. He began rocking back and forth as whispers fell from his lips. Harry leaned closer and found that the Malfoy heir was reciting poetry, probably in an attempt to calm his frayed nerves. "Datta: What have we given?" Draco murmured in a shaky voice as he continued to rock back and forth. "My friend, blood shaking my heart, the awful daring of a moment's surrender."Harry couldn't remember the poet's name, but the words sounded familiar. Harry had a sneaking suspicion that it was a Muggle poet. "Which an age of prudence can never retract," Draco continued, his voice becoming clearer and stronger as he recalled the words. "The awful daring of a moment's surrender."Draco closed his eyes briefly, letting the words resonate and echo off of the stone walls of the room. "Which is not to be found in our obituaries," Draco whispered, continuing his recitation with his eyes shut. "Or in memories draped by the beneficent spider...or under seals broken by the lean solicitor..."Suddenly the door to the room swung open and Lucius Malfoy stormed into the room, followed soon after by Lord Voldemort. They towered over Draco and watched him shudder convulsively in their shadow. Draco opened his eyes and gazed back up at them, his gray eyes glazed and calm from the words he had spoken against the stone room. "In out empty rooms," Draco finished in a hushed voice. Lucius reached down and clutched Draco's left arm, drawing back the sleeve of his son's robes to reveal the bloody mess that was once Voldemort's brand on him, the Dark Mark scratched out and haggard. Voldemort lifted his chin and gazed cruelly down at Draco. "I see," Voldemort murmured. "And this is your son, Lucius? I thought even you might do better.""So had I," Lucius growled, glaring at his son. "Why did you do this?" Voldemort asked with deceiving gentleness. "I had thought you considered it an honor."Draco looked at his arm. "I cannot Apparate to you when you call, Lord. The burning was driving me mad.""So you defiled my Mark," Voldemort said, his words falling on Draco like blows. "Yes, my Lord.""Stupid, stupid boy," Voldemort hissed. "Remove your robes."Draco blanched and pressed himself against the wall. "My Lord?""Do it, Draco," Lucius all but spat at him. "Do it now!"Shaking so badly he looked like he was seizing, Draco unlaced the front of his robes and pulled them off. "And your shirt," Voldemort said.Draco discarded his shirt near his robes and stood before the Dark Lord and his father in nothing but trousers. He shook as Voldemort instructed him to turn around and kneel. Voldemort drew out his wand and roughly pressed it into Draco's spine, the area on his back between his shoulder blades. "Consider me merciful," Voldemort said against Draco's screams as he dug his wand into the skin of Draco's back. "For I do not often afford second chances."Leaving Lucius and Draco behind, when Voldemort was finished he swept out of the room, leaving it colder than ever. Draco was curled into a ball and twitching on the stone floor and Lucius gazed down at his son impassively. "You will finish your mission at Hogwarts, Draco.""Yes, Father," Draco stammered."You will kill Albus Dumbledore.""Yes, Father.""And you will not disappoint me again.""Yes, Father."Lucius turned and walked towards the exit. He paused before leaving and glanced back his son, his gray eyes so cold they were nearly white. "You are a disgrace to me."With a slam, Lucius shut the door behind him and Draco listened to Lucius' heavy footsteps as they marched back down the hall. The memory came to an end so abruptly, Harry felt like someone had punched in the stomach. Draco shouted as he woke from the dream. He was lying in his bed at St. Mary's, trembling so fiercely the mattress shook, and curled into a ball. His back was alight with the echo of pain rather than the real thing but his lightning bolt scar burned like fury. Hot tears leaked past his eyes as he buried his face into the pillows. Confused sobs wracked his body long into the night. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~Beyond the Invisible~At dawn...* 'I know I'm connected to him. 'The man with those green eyes is always there in my dreams. I watch him watch me and it really feels like neither of us are supposed to be there. 'Nobody sees him in my dreams save I; isn't that strange? And he watches a different version of me. Sometimes I'm a boy cowering in front of a snake of a man with evil, terrible eyes and the man I am convinced now is my father; the one with the long white hair, and the merciless, angry, gray eyes. 'Sometimes I'm a man with wild hair. I am brewing something in a large pot, or speaking tiredly into a mirror, or talking to an old, old man with half-moon spectacles...a man that makes my heart clench with sadness every time I look at him. Once, I saw myself groomed and brave. I was a boy still, no more than seventeen, but I seemed so much older as I stared down the snake of a man when he arrived at the funeral. I called the dead woman my mother. I wonder if I am an orphan now. I must be, if my visions are true. And there is always at least two of me in the room...including the man with the green eyes, the green eyes that show so much emotion when he thinks no one is looking. 'The more and more I think about it, the more I believe that I wouldn't see these things if he wasn't there. Well, because he's always there. I have a feeling that he's trying to understand me too. 'Regardless, I am unsure whether or not I should count these dreams as memories. They are so extreme and so bizarre. Yet, what I did to Bane was also extreme and bizarre. There is familiar magic surrounding my dreams. They frighten me so badly that I often wake to the sound of my own screams; even if I wasn't asleep when I began having them in the first place. I am growing increasingly terrified of my own memories and I wonder if it is better to remain naive and just try to start a new life. Maybe actually becoming this John Smith person everyone insists on calling me is better than the person I am in my dreams. 'I know my name now. 'At least, according to my dreams. Draco Malfoy. 'Such an odd name, to be sure, but it feels...right...somehow. 'I am the same in my dreams, in a way, but also so very different. The people in my dreams are different. They seem to be surrounded with a different kind of energy. I want to say magic, but I know I'll sound crazy. Even Mettle says there's no such thing as magic. 'Bane avoids me now. I like it better that way, though it does seem strange to have only one person following me around and protecting my doorway. The Betties locked Bane up for days because he wouldn't quit screaming about how I tried to kill him with magic. 'They asked me once if his claims had any merit and I laughed in their faces. What exactly am I supposed to say? Yes, Betty, I am a murderous magician who can manipulate forces of nature beyond your reckoning. Right. If that doesn't get me a life sentence here, nothing will. 'I'm pretty certain they will let me out soon. I hear Betties whispering about an apartment being set up for me. I am worried about the dreams, though. They do not always attack me when I sleep. Sometimes the images flood my brain when I am wakeful and they will not release their hold on me until they are finished. I must get a hold on these visions. If a Betty catches me during one, they will lock me up like Bane for sure. 'I meet with Dr. Laeverton today. Perhaps I can get a definitive answer on when I'll be released from this God forsaken place.' Draco closed his journal and gazed out of the window. The snow outside was melting and the days were getting warmer. Though Draco hadn't seen the Eagle Owl for days, Draco knew he was out there somewhere. Maybe the bird was being cautious after the incident with the snake. Draco drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Mettle knocked at the door and Draco answered. "What is it, Mettle?""Betty says the Doc's ready for ya," Mettle replied. Draco nodded. "I'll be out momentarily," Draco said before closing the door again. Draco went to his nightstand and retrieved the other notebook he kept for Dr. Laeverton's sessions with him. Draco threw on a light blazer and righted his hair before stepping from the room. Mettle, who was an avid baseball fan, began chattering straight away about this team and that, excited the sport's season was beginning. Draco paused by the Betties' office, trying to pick up their whispers as he usually did. He caught "...Smith.." and "...I don't think he's ready..." but it was incredibly difficult to discern what exactly they were saying with Mettle jabbering away next to him. Draco swatted Mettle across his head with the notebook in his right hand. "Bloody well shut your howling screamer, you twat," Draco hissed as he leaned closer to the whispers. Mettle instantly pressed his lips together, rubbing at his head with chubby fingers. "Well, I don't really care if he's got his memory back or not," a female voice said. "That young man's unnatural. I don't think he's crazy, but somethin' about him makes my skin crawl. I want him outta here. Crazies I can handle. Smith? He's just too much.""You have a point, Leti," a male voice concurred. "But I think somethin' even stranger is going on here. I mean, why was he sent here in the first place? And then, all a sudden, the Doc gets a phone call out of no where sayin' we got to set him loose! I tell you, Leti, I sleep better at night knowing he's locked up here. When he's out and about...I just don't know. Somethin' ain't right."Draco smirked, a satisfaction he couldn't explain making his smile wider and wider, before he frowned and then scowled. Dr. Laeverton had received a phone call urging him to release Smith? Why?Draco moved forward through the Ward until he reached the Doc's office. Turning to Mettle and nodding curtly at him, Draco reached for the doorknob, energy from his fingers automatically unlocking the simple mechanism, and opened the door. Inside, Dr. Laeverton was speaking to a man with dark brown hair, olive skin, and hazel eyes. The man turned and regarded Draco quietly when he entered the room and sat in his usual seat. Draco raised his eyes and met the man's hazel ones with an expectant expression. The man smiled genuinely and Dr. Laeverton came to his feet. "Mr. Smith, this is your new social worker, an old friend of mine," Dr. Laeverton said with a smile. "I took the liberty of arranging one for you as a certain Mr. Worcestershire came down with a nasty bout of influenza. Draco raised a pale brow. Being a pro at lies and deceit, Draco could spot one straight away. "His name, doctor? Or should I just call him 'Social Worker'?" The Doc had been so busy formulating and delivering his lie, he had forgotten to properly introduce the man. "Deans," the man said offering his hand. "Michael Deans. Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Smith."Draco accepted his hand and shook it firmly, an easy smile curving his lips. "I'm sure," Draco murmured, his gray eyes taking in Deans' features a second time. The man wasn't bad looking. Deans paused when he noticed Draco sizing him up and watched a mischievous glint spread through the younger man's eyes. Draco suddenly shifted his attention back to Dr. Laeverton, allowing his fingers to slip away from Deans' grasp, and settled back into the chair. The two other men remained standing. "Yes, I know I'm early," Draco said. "I've heard some interesting rumors from your staff. I couldn't resist, mate.""I see," Dr. Laeverton said, exchanging a glance with Deans. "Well, Mr. Smith, in little over a week, you may be released and Deans is here to assist you in any way possible."Draco's teasing, mischievous eyes went back up to roam Deans' face. "Really?" Deans shifted uncomfortably. Draco smoothed over the pointed look with a charming smile and a flash of perfectly white teeth before looking back at the Doc. "I've heard more than that, Doc," Draco pressed. "Well, maybe you would like to enlighten me," Dr. Laeverton replied. "Someone on the outside wants me out," Draco said, getting to the point as his charisma vanished and was replaced with he dark intuitiveness that usually surrounded Draco Malfoy. "And, judging by this bloke," Draco added, jerking his chin towards Deans, "you don't trust it. Or, perhaps, you don't think I'm ready."Dr. Laeverton nodded and exchanged another glance with Deans. "A little of both, I suppose."Draco laced his fingers in front of him. "So, what do we do now?"Dr. Laeverton sighed. "I'm going to request your cooperation--""And why would I give you that, Doc? You just lied to me.""Mr. Smith, please. You and I both know you haven't been completely honest with me either. Your entire file is a lie."Draco snorted. "You and I both know I bloody well would have chosen a better name for myself if I hade made that bollocks up, mate," Draco replied. "Like your journal?"Draco's mouth quirked and then he grinned. "Yeah, like my journal, Doc.""Mr. Smith, I have to insist--""Doctor, really," Draco interrupted, leaning closer. "I'll go along. You people are the only ones I know. Why wouldn't I?"Dr. Laeverton allowed himself a small smile. "Very good, Mr. Smith. Deans, I trust you can show yourself out?"Deans nodded and tried to catch Draco's eye. Draco smiled but did not look at him. After Deans left the room, Dr. Laeverton took a seat. "Have you made any plans?""Plans?""Yes," Dr. Laeverton said. "Like where you're going to look for work, what you would like to do once you get out, and the like."Draco frowned. "I'll probably just research my past. Do I need to work?""Yes, Mr. Smith," Dr. Laeverton said with small laugh. "You'll find that life is quite difficult without a job."Draco wrinkled his nose. "I don't recall ever having to before.""You're still young, Mr. Smith. Many things change as you become older."Draco ran his tongue over his teeth and chewed on the inside of his cheek, thinking. "Deans, will help you acquire a job, should you ask," Dr. Laeverton offered. Draco nodded before a wicked grin spread along his face. "Pretty little ponce, isn't he?"Dr. Laeverton nearly choked on his own saliva. "Excuse me?""Deans," Draco clarified with a lazy flick of his wrist. "Never mind, doctor."Dr. Laeverton asked for Draco's notebook and looked it over. When he was finished, he closed it and handed it back. "My staff tells me you have nightmares," the Doc said quietly. "Strange to see none of them recorded."Draco shrugged. "I'm not even supposed to have them, remember?"Dr. Laeverton raised a salt and pepper brow. "The lovely little blue pills that are supposed to make me sleep soundly..." Draco reminded him. Dr. Laeverton scoffed at his patient. "I know you haven't taken them for weeks, Mr. Smith."Draco laughed and opened his mouth to say something before wincing. Draco let out a little gasp and his hand flew to his the lightening bolt scar that began burning on his forehead. "Mr. Smith?"Draco winced again as he felt himself being torn from the room before him. He hung in a black void, connected to nothing, before a bright flash nearly blinded and suddenly, he was speeding towards it. Dr. Laeverton leaned forward and snapped his fingers in front of Draco's face, the vacant expression immobile. *It was the only memory in the journal labeled 'Harry Potter'.Harry was shocked to find that it stretched over nearly three hours of memory blocks and pieces...and that they were all centered around both their first day at Hogwarts. Except for the first stretch of it. It began with the young Draco Malfoy meeting Harry Potter for the first time in Diagon Alley and then lurched forward to Lucius giving Draco a final lecture before allowing him to board Hogwarts Express. Then there was an initial meeting with Crabbe, Goyle, Zabini, and Pansy Parkinson. Then Draco roamed around the train by himself for nearly an hour before speaking to a ten year old Harry Potter. There was special focus on the young Draco offering his hand as he offered his friendship. When Harry refuses both, Draco seems merely confused and Harry realized for the first time that Draco Malfoy was the only child from Hogwarts who tried to befriend Harry before knowing who he was in Diagon Alley. The offered hand of friendship after learning Harry's name was done for public reasons on Draco's part. Being rejected hadn't actually angered him, it confused him.Then the memory fast forwarded to the Sorting Hat inside Hogwarts. Harry watched Draco's young face grow darker and darker with anger as the ten year old Harry Potter begged the Sorting Hat not to place him in Slytherin. Someone murmured something into Draco's ear, but Draco jerked his head away, his eyes never leaving Harry as the Sorting Hat tried to explain why he would do well in Slytherin. But the Hat finally conceded and placed Harry in Gryffindor and Draco's gray eyes fairly spit fire as they watched Harry take his seat at the Gryffindor table. The image shimmered and faded and Harry found himself staring at his hands outside of the Pensieve. If it was the Sorting and not the denied friendship that had caused Draco to hate and torment him for years, what did that mean?Was it possible that Draco Malfoy had resented Harry Potter for being able to choose outside of his nature, and not for all the other petty things that he had originally suspected?Harry moved his fingers to his forehead to brush away a stray lock of hair that was tickling his skin. Finding no stray lock, Harry scratched at his forehead, over the patch of skin that used to bear his scar, trying to make the tingling sensation go away. Suddenly, he felt someone move past him and Harry whirled around. Seeing no one, Harry called out. "Hello?"Harry heard an echo of a gasp and strained his ears toward it. In an instant, the presence vanished and Harry felt the loss of it like a blow. The tingling sensation was gone from his forehead and all was quiet. Harry leaned over the journal and flipped through pages, trying to locate another important memory.Draco blinked and shook his head. "Welcome back," Dr. Laeverton murmured severely. "Memory or a blackout?"Draco swallowed and cleared his throat as the burning in his scar faded and the feeling of being back in his skin washed over him. "Memory, I think.""Good," the Doc said. "Let's talk about it." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~Cruelty, the Ultimate Intimacy~Four days later...Witherwings dipped below the clouds and felt Harry Potter shift between his wings. Harry leaned down and searched the British countryside for the house. Spotting it, Harry pulls out his broom and jumps on it. Witherwings lets out a cry of indignation and Harry flies the broom near his head so he could speak to the massive Hippogriff over the roaring winds. "I need to speak to the Parkinson’s," Harry shouted. "I need you to return to the Madam Leilane's and guard the objects I've entrusted to you with your life."Witherwings blinked and tossed his head back. "Thank you," Harry said as he turned his broom northeast. "I'll owe you one."Harry twisted and shot down through the atmosphere, the wind whipping around his body, the cold frosting around his nose and mouth. Down and down, at breakneck speed, until the houses down below did not look so much like toys anymore. Harry lurched left and swept through a small forest, dodging around the trees, his heartbeat gone with the rushing wind. Finally, Harry was through the brush and saw the Parkinson country estate straight ahead. Pandora Parkinson, Pansy Parkinson's aunt and godmother, had inherited the estate and taken Pansy in when Pansy's mother passed away abruptly two years ago. The cause of death was mysterious in some ways. Patricia Parkinson had been ill with bilateral pneumonia for nearly sixteen months before she died; however, while the Wizarding World had numerous charms and medicinal herbs that would instantly clear out the woman's lungs and recharge her immune system, Patricia had refused any treatment and suffered until she died in her sleep a year and a half ago. The Parkinson family refused to comment on the matter. The Parkinson’s escaped any affiliation with Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters, except, of course, through Draco as his birth engagement to Pansy had always been known. Suspicion had warranted the Parkinson’s to hide among their own circles until society's nerves had calmed and they could roam freely once again. Yet, all the same, suspicion was never enough to convict and the Parkinson family was left alone with the repeated comment that, "This, too, shall pass."Harry Potter had mild and sometimes a bit strong, distaste for Pansy and her family but knew they were a pureblood family that had chosen no side during the Eve War and had escaped unscathed. Harry and Ron would often trade information with them, also knowing, that the Parkinson’s had never been naive to Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort's circle. Today, Harry Potter had questions about Draco Malfoy. Harry landed his broom thirty feet from the main gate, feeling the press of the wards around the estate, and waited. A house elf popped out, took Harry's broom, and quietly led the young Auror inside the Manor. The house elf left Harry inside a receiving room where a roaring fire warmed the plush furniture near it. Harry turned in a circle, his eyes searching, and finally spotted Pandora Parkinson seated in a corner, watching him over the rim of her book. "Mr. Potter," Pandora murmured, closing her book and setting it aside. "Be welcome."Pandora had a wealth of blue-black, wavy hair that she often piled atop her head, exposing the curve of her throat and causing her features to look slender and more refined. Today, her hair was coiled at the nape of her neck, loose, in a simple Lover's Knot and renegade tendrils brushed against her cheeks and left her liquid pools of dark blue eyes in flickering shadow. Harry thought she looked five years younger with her hair down, and was going to tell her so, when she spoke again. "You look terrible, Mr. Potter," Pandora said, leaning forward in her seat to peer at him. "Where on earth did you fly in from?""China, actually," Harry said, glancing down at his windblown, tattered, and extremely dirty flying robes."Ahh," Pandora said, sitting back. "Beautiful country.""Yes, it is," Harry said, fixing a buckle on his glove. "Been there recently?""Not for years," Pandora replied softly, steadily returning Harry's gaze. "Right," Harry said. "I'll get straight to the point then."Pandora smiled indulgently. "Mrs. Parkinson--""Miss, please, I am not yet married," Pandora said in a wistful voice as her heavy-lidded eyes gazed through her dark lashes at Harry. "Ms. Parkinson," Harry reiterated with a sigh. "What is the significance of Malfoy spreading blood over a white rose at his mother's funeral?""You mean Draco," Pandora said, her shadowed eyes giving nothing away. Harry always thought her eyes looked like the ocean at night."Yes.""How do you know about that?"Harry did not respond and he stood there stoically, trying to stare the answer out of her. "He afforded her an honor and a curse simultaneously," a quiet voice said behind Harry. Harry turned and regarded Pansy Parkinson, thin features and small, pug-like face giving her a frail air that she wasn't. Her black hair had grown and her eyes had softened, but Pansy Parkinson was always going to be the Pansy Parkinson from Hogwarts to Harry. Cruel, smug, and very much pureblood. Pansy wore creamy white robes and her black-gray eyes were as shadowed as her aunt's. "He proclaimed her the final pureblood from the Black Legacy. The blood on the rose means that the Black line ended with her."Harry frowned. "I don't understand."Pansy smiled, a gesture that was not unkind. "Of course not, Harry Potter. That is what separates us.""Why would it be a curse?" Harry clarified. "Because Draco stated that he would not continue the Black line in front of her sister, her uncle, and many other pureblood families." Pansy's mouth pulled down and she glanced away and stared into the fire. What she left unsaid was that Draco also publicly refused the engagement between himself and Pansy, who had fawned over him since before their first year. "But he isn't a Black, he's a Malfoy," Harry murmured and immediately felt foolish for saying so. Draco Malfoy is the offspring of Narcissa Black and Lucius Malfoy, and while Draco wouldn't carry the Black name into the next generation it was still a part of his heritage and prestige. It was a powerful union, the day Lucius and Narcissa married, and an exciting day for pureblood families when Draco was born. "Malfoy loved his mother," Harry said. "Why would he do that?"Pansy glanced at her aunt who stared back at her for minutes at a time. Harry began to shift nervously before Pandora made a minute movement with a finger and Pansy began to speak. "It was more than a curse, Potter," Pansy murmured, still gazing into the fire. "It was an insult to the entire Black family and especially the Malfoy family.""Draco had discovered a book that described pureblood family trees much differently than the ones at his home," Pandora said quietly. "Draco was outraged and destroyed it. Then his curiosity got the better of him and he began researching through other books. He would travel over the summer to library after library, comparing genealogies and family trees.""Draco found out what all pureblood heirs are told when they come of age," Pansy whispered, the words nearly swallowed by the angry flames of the fire. "We are pure by default.""What?""Most pureblood families have renegade heirs who sympathize with Muggles and are called blood-traitors," Pandora explained. "They are blasted from the Family Tree and thereby disowned. It is our way of keeping our lines filtered and sanctified."Harry thought of the Black Family Tree at Grimauld Place and the names that were blasted from it. Isla Black, Phineas Black, Marius Black, Cedrella, Alphard, Andromeda--Tonks' mother, and Sirius--Harry's own deceased godfather. A Wizard had called Draco "...a blood-traitor of the worst kind..." at Draco's memory of Narcissa's funeral. Harry turned to Pansy and nodded for her to continue. "Even so," Pansy whispered and Harry leaned closer to hear her. "Some ancestors were devious. We should have been more careful with so many Slytherin blood relatives.""Most pureblood families have ancestors who snuck in a Muggle-born wife or husband, had an heir, and was not found out until generations after that," Pandora said in her quiet voice. "It's happened a time or two, but even that is enough to taint what we have considered pure.""Draco realized this and he hated his father for lying to him," Pansy murmured. "Even more than he hated him for following a mad Wizard who was the son of a Squib and a Muggle. Draco claimed that Lucius was the real blood-traitor.""And yet, young Draco obeyed his father out of fear," Pandora said, "even though his rebellion sparked in secret times.""He even defied the Dark Lord," Pansy said in a hushed voice.Harry nodded. "He tried to cut out the Dark Mark."Pansy nodded, eyes wide. "So what does all this have to do with his mother?""Narcissa was a true pureblood," Pandora murmured. "The Black Family was untainted, so shrewd were they with their generations. After Voldemorte murdered his mother, Draco spat back in the faces of those of us who claim purity, those who did not come to his mother's aid, and prophesied with a few drops of blood that blood purity would soon come to an end for all wizards and witches. He damned us all.""And then he killed the Dark Lord," Pansy said. "So, Lucius was a...a what?"Pandora smiled, her teeth flashing white from the shadows. "A Malfoy.""And he wasn't a pureblood?""He was a pureblood as we consider it."Harry was becoming frustrated. Pureblood intrigue had always confused him and now it was getting worse. "And how do you consider it?""For hundreds of years," Pandora explained, while Pansy remained silent. "We are considered pureblood by who we are and not so much by what we are. Some families were not so lenient, like the Black’s. The Parkinson’s shared those traits with the Malfoy’s and the Crabbe’s and the Zabini’s. We are cruel and merciless. We get what we want when we want it. And we are better."Harry snorted. "Laugh if you must, Potter," Pansy said gently. "But know this is why we are royalty among peasants. It is the legacy in our blood, not the magic.""You people are crazy."Pandora's smile widened. "Is it mad to honor your generations?""I want to know why Draco rebelled against purebloods and all you are telling me is that his anger was actually spurned from genuine pureblood fanaticism and that purebloods are better for other reasons besides the lies you have been screaming at Muggle-borns and Half-bloods for years and years!" Harry's eyes blazed as he regarded the two women."Please listen," Pandora murmured. "Lucius and Narcissa wished to right the tainted blood of the Malfoy family with Draco. They wished to create a wizard so powerful that even the Dark Lord would think twice before crossing him. They intended to make Draco a mirror image of his father."Harry nodded. That, he understood. "Draco was taught to hate Muggles, to torment Half-bloods and despise Muggle-borns," Pansy added."Yes, and then Lucius begins to follow one. Voldemort. Draco learns later that Severus, his beloved godfather, was also a half-blood.""And isn't that strange?" Pansy said, turning to look at Harry for the first time in nearly twenty minutes."Confused, Draco searches for and discovers many, many new things. Mr. Potter, it was never that Draco hated Muggles that spurned his rebellion against his father. It was that Lucius gave Draco something to be proud of when he lied to Draco about being pureblood. It was stripped away from him when he discovered the truth about the Malfoy family and the heritage of the Dark Lord. Would it matter at all that Draco was a pureblood if the strongest wizards in the world were Half-bloods and Muggle-borns?" Pandora clasped her long fingers in front of her and allowed Harry a moment to soak it in. Harry nodded, beginning to understand Draco's frustration. His so-called purity was all he really had. "And then his rebellion turned to blind hate when Voldemort murdered his mother and his father continued to serve the Dark Lord." Pansy's eyes were back on the flames and her face glowed in the firelight."Draco is considered a blood-traitor because he did not kill Dumbledore," Pandora said. "And he made it ever so much worse when he claimed Narcissa as the last of the Black Family. This is why he is exiled and this is why he is pure."Harry blinked. "Excuse me?""Purebloods are always cruel to those they love; it is our way, Potter. Compassion and kindness are done in secret places." Pansy's black eyes began misting over. "Purebloods are cruel to everyone, then," Harry remarked. Pandora laughed softly. "No, no, no, Mr. Potter. Hate and contempt is reserved for everyone else, hidden beneath a mask of beauty and tolerance. Cruelty is our way of communicating with those within our circle."Harry shook his head, not understanding. "Would you like a piece of candy?" Pansy asked suddenly. Harry stared at her. "Not if it is poison."Pansy laughed as if it was the funniest thing she had ever heard from him and handed Harry a small piece of spicy, cinnamon hard candy. Pansy popped one into her own mouth and watched Harry open the foil wrapping and carefully place it in his mouth. Spicy, sweet, and savory juices flooded his mouth. Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on the taste in his mouth. He loved how something could be candy and enjoyable and yet almost painful to eat. When Harry opened his eyes, the two Parkinson women were smiling at him. "You begin to understand, Potter," Pansy whispered. "Why is it that we scratch are nails through yielding flesh during the throes of passion, Potter? Why is the sound of our screams so similar when we climax or feel the bite of the whiplash? Why do we always hurt those closest to our hearts so much more deeply than those we do not know? Why is it such a sweet, sweet torture to spend a few seconds savoring cinnamon candy?"Harry looked away. "This is what makes us what we are, Potter," Pansy whispered, her eyes gleaming. "Evil does not automatically come hand in had with being Slytherin. Draco wanted so badly for you to understand that."Harry frowned. "Why?""Because you begged the Sorting Hat for any House but Slytherin."Pandora flicked her dark sapphire eyes between the two old school mates and smiled. "What we have spoken of here today is usually only said in back rooms and in secret. Be courteous and do not repeat any of it."Harry turned to her. "What if I had a Slytherin side to me that caused such cruelty in exposing you and your tainted blood?""Cruelty and honesty do come hand in hand," Pandora said, inclining her head. "Though you are mistaken if you view us as being disloyal. It was loyalty and not pity that stayed Draco's wand when he was sent to kill Albus Dumbledore.""You're wrong," Harry said, shaking his head. "I was there. I saw nothing but fear.""Wouldn't you be afraid too, knowing that families upon families would label you a blood-traitor for failing so miserably?" Pansy interjected. "Of course he was afraid.""If Draco was loyal, he would have killed Dumbledore," Harry said. Pandora's smile turned sad as her eyes darkened. "You sound like his father.""At least he understands what it means to be cruel," Pansy said in a dead voice, turning back to the fire. Hermione walked towards the door of her and Ron's flat as the pounding became louder and louder. "I'm coming," she yelled, annoyed. With a flick of her wand, she dispelled ward after ward and pulled the door open. Hermione gasped when her brown eyes took in Harry's appearance. He was filthy and tired but it was his eyes that scared her the most. They were dark and shadowy, swirling with thoughts that sped through his mind. Hermione had only seen his eyes that dark once before; and it was the night his godfather was killed by Bellatrix. "No questions until tomorrow, 'Mione," Harry whispered. "May I stay here tonight?"Hermione stepped back and ushered him inside the flat. "Of course, Harry. Of course."Ron came around the corner, brushing his teeth, to see what the commotion by the door was. Ron spotted Harry and stopped in his tracks, toothbrush hanging limply from his mouth. "What the hell happened to you, Harry?"a/n: As you can see, I took a bit of creative license here. I loosely base it off of JK Rowling's 'opinion' of purebloods and what she's stated in interviews; and not so much on actual fact from the books. It is the same with St. Mary's. God help me, but I have never been to Wisconsin and really have no idea whether or not a St. Mary's exists, lol. While the Black Family Tree is available for study, most of the so-called 'pureblood families' are not. Creative license is a beautiful thing :-). ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~A Somewhat Untimely Change of Heart~The following morning..."I don't know what to do," Harry muttered over coffee at Ron and Hermione's breakfast table. Ron took a seat opposite of Harry and exchanged a glance with Hermione, who was already seated. Harry had not spoken a word the previous night and the couple had woken to the sight of Harry huddled over a cup of coffee before the sun had even graced the eastern sky. Harry swallowed and shifted in his seat, bringing his eyes up to regard his two friends solemnly. "I still don't know why he saved my life, I still don't know how he knew about the Horcruxes, and we are still no closer finding out who wants Malfoy dead.""From what you've explained, Harry," Hermione said gently, "it seems every pureblood family has reason to. Pandora made it clear that what Malfoy did at the funeral was a grave insult to the Wizarding pureblood community.""I don't even get why he did that," Harry mumbled before jabbing a finger at the two of them. "By the way, Malfoy left an updated will in his Pensieve and it seems he felt it was important to leave the Malfoy Manor to your mother, Ron, and the Malfoy Library to you, Hermione. Why would he do that?"Ron's mouth hung slack as he stared hard at Harry. "I have no buggering clue, mate."Harry shifted his eyes to Hermione, who had turned bright pink. "Hermione?""Well, I...I...I don't think," Hermione stammered. "Well, I don't know. He had once asked for my assistance in looking up some books at Hogwarts...um, I think it was fifth year. But, I don't know. That couldn't possibly warrant an entire library...Harry, stop looking at me like that!""Like what?""Like I did something wrong!" Hermione was clearly upset by the news so Harry dropped the subject. "I guess it doesn't matter, anyway. Malfoy's alive." Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Still, when Malfoy put the memory into the Pensieve, he clearly thought he was going to die. I wonder if he was trying to make some sort of statement."Ron shook his head, not in disagreement, but more in a fashion like he was trying to dispel runaway thoughts. "What else was in the Pensieve?"Harry shrugged and looked away. "Harry?""Malfoy's alive," Harry murmured. "Perhaps it should stay private."Ron blinked and exchanged another glance with Hermione. "You feeling sorry for him, mate?""Yeah. No. I don't know." Harry covered his face with hands and groaned. "I don't know!"Hermione placed a restraining hand on Ron's arm. "Harry...what's going on?"Harry removed his hands and looked back at Hermione. They stared at one another until Harry's green eyes glistened with unwelcome tears and he looked away, dashing the palms of his hands roughly against his eyes. "I never thought I'd see the day when I would feel bad about Malfoy," Harry muttered. "The things they did to him, the things he went through, and the fact that he never, ever complained...I feel like complete shite for hating the bastard.""Harry," Hermione murmured. "Do you remember when you used to be able to see into Voldemort's head when he was in a highly emotional state?"Harry's eyes widened a fraction and he nodded. "I know what you're talking about, 'Mione. I think he can see me.""Who?" Ron asked, looking between the two. "Voldemort? He's back from the dead?"Hermione rolled her eyes and glared at Ron. "No, you moron! Malfoy.""Why would Malfoy be able to...oh," Ron said as he watched Hermione tap at her forehead. "Oh...bugger that."Harry swallowed past a rush of emotion. "I felt someone watching me all week; especially when I was in his Pensieve. Malfoy's memories aren't pretty."Hermione nodded. "I suspected that may happen...but it seemed so far fetched...""Between his owl helping him remember and him watching me swim around in his Pensieve..." Harry shook his head. "We've got to get him out of there."Ron cleared his throat. "I took the liberty of arranging that. That damn doctor at St. Mary's chose his own Social Worker for Malfoy, but I think we can still figure a way to check in on him."Harry nodded slowly. "I want to see him."Hermione peered at him. "Why?"Harry didn't answer. Ron shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea, Harry.""Then just add it to 'Harry Potter's Crap Ideas' list," Harry muttered. "I'm not asking your permission."Ron scoffed at him. "Yes, you are. Otherwise you would've just done it already instead of telling us. Where's the Pensieve?"Harry gave him a pointed look. "I hid it...at the Order's old Head Quarters." Number Twelve Grimmauld place; Sirius Black's old house. Ron and Hermione nodded their agreement. "I think we should give Malfoy his memory back in full," Harry murmured after a moment's pause.Hermione blinked. "Really?""Yes," Harry said. "I think he's safe in America...but he should be able to choose. Malfoy will know what's at stake...and I think the answers we're looking for are locked up in is head."Ron chewed on the inside of his lip. "All right. 'Mione, could you whip up a Memory Draught for us?""It’ll take a few days," Hermione said. "But, yes, I can.""Great," Ron said. "Harry, do us a favor and wait to go see Malfoy until it's done?"Harry did not answer but inclined his head a fraction. "Right, then, we have a lot of work to do," Ron grumbled as he stood to his feet. Draco paused in his mad scribbling of notes in his notebook at a knock on his door. A Betty entered and Draco scowled, wondering where the hell Mettle was. "Yes?""You are being released today," the Betty said. "Pack your things."Draco shook his head when she made her exit, trying to shake off the feeling of déjà vu. He had the strongest feeling that someone had said something very similar to him a few weeks ago. Draco stood to his feet and closed his notebook and wondered for the thousandth time where the hell the Eagle Owl was. Harry paced back and forth in the Ministry's Mess Hall and Ron watched him as he munched on a deli sandwich. "What's got you in a fix now, mate?" Ron asked over a mouthful of turkey and pickle."Bellatrix.""She's dead, Harry." Harry had killed her over a Horcrux she was sent to guard.Harry sent a despairing look Ron's way as he continued his pacing. "But she was at Narcissa's funeral.""I have no idea what you're talking about."Harry stopped pacing and went to the table, ignoring the strange looks other Aurors sent his way. It wasn't often that they saw Harry Potter lose his cool. "When Malfoy called Narcissa the end of the Black line, Bellatrix was still alive, Ron. Bellatrix was Narcissa's sister.""But didn't she marry that Lestrange bloke?""That's not the point, Ron.""Then bloody well get to it, Harry!""Bellatrix was the only one who stepped in and let Malfoy say goodbye to his mother after he gave her the rose, Ron," Harry said as his voice raised a pitch or two. "After he insulted the Black family line, Ron! Why would she have been so consoling? Technically, after Narcissa died, Bellatrix was the remaining Black descendant.""I don't know, Harry."Harry resumed his pacing and Ron finished his sandwich."Maybe," Ron said thoughtfully, taking a swig of pumpkin juice. "Maybe he knew she was going to die anyway. You know, from the Time-Turner.""Time-Turners don't explain everything, Ron," Harry muttered.Draco watched as the Betties gathered his luggage and took it outside where a yellow...contraption on wheels sat in the graveled driveway, waiting to take Draco to his destination. A man cleared his throat behind him and Draco turned, greeted by the sight of Dr. Laeverton and Deans. "Come to see me off, Doc?" Draco inquired, his gray eyes grave and serious. Dr. Laeverton nodded. They had not spoken much about the incident in his office a few days ago when Draco had spaced out. Dr. Laeverton had tried to get him to speak about it, but Draco, worried that the Doc would label him delusional and call it a day, had refused other than saying it was sort of flashback. Dr. Laeverton had grounded Deans on the fact that Mr. Smith was to be watched shrewdly and, if anything came up--anything at all--he was to be informed immediately. Dr. Laeverton didn't like the idea of John Smith leaving St. Mary's so soon, but Smith's funding was abruptly cut and he had received another...interesting phone call from Mr. Hale, saying Smith was to be rehabilitated immediately. Draco glanced at Deans, sending him a disarming smile, before looking back at the Doc. "Well?""If you are not certain you can handle this," Dr. Laeverton said quietly, "you can remain here indefinitely. I'll find a way.""That's quite touching, doctor, really," Draco said with a minute lift of his blond brows. "I am more than capable, however. Thank you."Dr. Laeverton nodded again. "Have it your way, then. Best of luck to you, Mr. Smith. Deans, he's all yours now."Draco grinned and Deans shifted uncomfortably, averting his gaze. Inside the 'cab'--as Draco found out the contraption wheels was called a car--Draco gazed out the window. The early spring outside was still cold and the windows of the vehicle were foggy. Draco watched trees fly by as the cab lurched forward and pulled out onto the street. Like it did more often this past week than his entire stay at St. Mary's, Draco's mind went blank and uncontrollable images began replaying themselves uninhibited; and Draco's eyes glazed over as he submitted to them.Harry finished his beer and ordered another, thoughts still on the mystery that surrounded Draco Malfoy. In fact, Harry's thoughts seemed to be obsessed with the Malfoy heir. Guilt so extreme kept pressing against his chest and Harry tried to drown out the taste of it with his fifth mug of ale. Harry closed his eyes and saw the image of a terrified sixteen year old Draco Malfoy standing his ground in a cold, dirty stone room while two of the darkest wizards of all time glared down at him. Harry knew that at that moment, Harry had thought nothing more of the Slytherin prince than of a spoiled brat of Malfoy who became a Death Eater for glory and joined Umbridge’s Inquisitorial Squad just to make his life even more miserable. Harry wondered what it had to be like to have a father so evil. Sure, his own parents had been murdered by Voldemort when Harry was an infant, but Harry had the luxury of knowing they were good, kindhearted people. Honorable people. Harry took another swig of his beer and sent a startled glance over at the man who took a seat next him at the bar at The Mild Brew. Cruent smiled at him from under his mop of light brown curls. "How are you, Harry?"Harry blinked at him and looked away. "Fine. You?""Better now.""Don't do that," Harry said."Do what?"Harry scowled. "Act like you're happy to see me."Cruent was quiet for a moment. "Am I not allowed to be happy to see you?"Harry didn't respond but turned and looked into Cruent's light blue eyes, loosing himself--like he always did--in their depths as he searched for the tell-tale signs of a lie. Cruent reached out and pushed back a stray lock of jet-black hair from Harry's face and Harry flinched away violently. Cruent sighed and looked away. When he turned back, his sunny blue eyes were angry. "I don't understand why we can't be friends, Harry.""You left me, remember?"Cruent ordered a glass of chilled pumpkin juice. "I was trying to get you to wake up, Harry.""I wasn't asleep," Harry muttered. "No, Harry, I was trying to get you to wake up to me," Cruent murmured, staring at his pumpkin juice. Harry snorted. "What did you expect me to do? Chase after you?"Cruent turned to Harry, his blue eyes intense and hurt. "Yes, Harry. I kinda did."Harry frowned and looked away. "Sorry.""For what? Not wanting me?""I wanted you.""I'm not talking about sex, Harry. I wanted you to want all of me.""If I wanted to hear this shite, I'd date girls," Harry muttered. Cruent laughed. "Not all girls are infatuated saps like me, Harry."Harry grinned and thought of Hermione. "All right. I'll give you that one.""It's good to see you smile, Harry. It takes off five years, you know.""Yeah?"Cruent nodded, his blue eyes light again. Harry bit his lip. "It's good to see you too, Cruent."Cruent smiled, his eyes softening. "You know, Harry. There's nothing so bad that a little guilt won't make worse...and there's nothing so good a little guilt won't make better. It's inherent nobility that we all share.[1] Something we are all born with, Muggle or Wizard."Harry nodded slowly and didn't look up when Cruent stood to his feet. "I'll see you around, Harry," Cruent murmured, squeezing Harry's shoulder briefly before turning and walking away. Harry shifted so he could watch Cruent exit the pub and the moment Cruent was out of sight; Harry's ears became deaf to the noises of The Mild Brew and his mind fixated, once again, on Draco Malfoy. Harry closed his eyes. Draco wrinkled his nose as he looked around the small apartment. Deans laughed at the look on Smith's face and moved past him down the hall. "It's not much, but once you start working, you can begin to furnish this place and make it look decent," Deans called over his shoulder. Draco said nothing as he walked cautiously into the kitchen. "What is this?" Draco called."What is what?" Deans replied, turning and following Smith into the kitchen. Deans raised a brow when he saw what Smith was pointing at. "That's called a microwave, Mr. Smith."Draco scrunched his brows together as he inspected the large, square device. "A what?""A microwave."Draco frowned. "I don't think I've ever seen one before."Deans grinned and shook his head as he watched Smith cross over into the living room. "There isn't much in the fridge, but it should last you a few days," Deans said as he watched Smith inspect the small television set with wonderment. "I'll come by tomorrow and take you to the grocery store.""Hmm?""The grocery store, Mr. Smith. That's where you buy food.""I see."Draco sat down in a folded chair and picked up the receiver of the phone on a nearby table. Draco put it to his ear and instantly dropped it like it had burnt him. Draco looked up at Deans and glared at him for an explanation. "What?" Deans asked. "It was making noises," Draco hissed. "There! Can't you hear it?"Deans sighed, wondering if Smith wasn't really off his rocker, and picked up the receiver. When he placed it back on its base, the beeping immediately stopped. "It's not going to hurt you, Mr. Smith.""This place is very peculiar," Draco said, looking around. "Where is my maid?""Excuse me?""My maid," Draco repeated, peering at the pair of antennas on the television set. "My Betty.""You don't have one," Deans said. "So it's just you.""Yes, but I'm not a--""Well, get on with it. I'm quite hungry.""Mr. Smith--"Draco pressed the power button on the television and jumped back when images appeared on the screen. Draco stepped forward when he was certain the little people on the screen weren't going to jump out. "This thing offends reason, Deans.""Mr. Smith!" Deans sputtered. "What is it, Deans?" Draco answered, keeping his eyes on the screen and its images, entranced. "You'll have to make your own dinner, Mr. Smith."Draco stood and slowly turned towards Deans. "Really, Deans. Are you mad?"*a/n: While I realize Draco has probably seen a telephone before in Dr. Laeverton's office and I find it incredibly hard to believe that there wouldn't have been a television set in the Common Room of the Ward, I couldn't suppress the urge to poke a little fun at Draco's complete naivete of Muggle creations. It was meant to make you giggle a little and I hope I did my job. :-)[1] That line is a direct quote from the film “Latter Days” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. a/n: Quick little pre-note. I originally put a "Language" warning when I posted the prologue for this story because I know that my writing, especially when dealing with dark, intense stuff, usually tends to lean a little towards the profane. However, it's been tons of chapters and I've managed not to use profanity except maybe twice because I never really felt the need for it. That being said, this chapter has quite a few naughty words in it. Just a refresher warning, lol. And if you feel it's beginning to get excessive, feel free to let me know. :-)~~ ~Don't Lie to Me~The next day...*Harry arrived at the Ministry early the next morning. It was raining outside, the wind blowing it sideways in sheets, and Harry was glad for the reprieve from the inclement weather even though his mood equally matched its gloom. Harry quietly wove in and out of the Ministry's halls, his steps taking him slowly towards his destination. When he arrived, it took Harry a few minutes to figure out the spell that would unlock Hermione Granger's office in Muggle Affairs. Once inside, Harry shuffled through the papers on Hermione's neat desk, looking for the address of Draco Malfoy's new flat. Finding it, Harry carefully folded and pocketed the sheet of paper within his robes. Then Harry left the office, locking the door behind him, and slipped back down the hall. He couldn't wait any longer.Draco stared at the paper cup filled with dry, thin noodles and seasoning and bit his lip, trying with all his might to figure out this new puzzle. It said to add boiling water but damned if this place didn't have a teapot, or any other pot, for that matter. Draco turned and fixed his gaze on the thing that Deans had called a microwave. Deans had tried to explain how to use it but Draco had been to busy discovering his new flat to really pay attention. Draco opened the kitchen drawer beneath the microwave and pulled out a little paper book that had a picture of the same device on the front cover. He flipped through it, reading a few lines here and there, before turning once again to the little paper cup with noodles. Frowning in severe concentration, Draco added water to the cup and placed it into the square microwave. Pressing a button, Draco watched, fascinated, as a light came on inside it and illuminated the little cup as it turned around and around. Draco nearly jumped out of his skin when the thing beeped shrilly and he opened the microwave and retrieved the cup. Cautiously, Draco dipped a finger into the cup. The noodles were far from soft but the water had become much warmer. A slow smile spread across Draco's face and his gray eyes brightened. "Interesting."Dr. Laeverton took a sip of his coffee and glanced once at the paperwork spread across his desk. There, among the scattered sheets, was John Smith's notebook with a small, yellow "post-it" note attached to it. Dr. Laeverton reached down and plucked up the note and read it. 'Doctor, Mr. Smith accidentally left this in his room. Regards,Brooke' Brooke was a Betty here and Dr. Laeverton grunted as he crumpled the note and tossed it into the wastebasket. Dr. Laeverton finished his coffee and fed his turtles before taking a seat behind his desk and retrieving the notebook. Dr. Laeverton glanced at the first page and his salt and pepper brows drew together violently. The first passage was very different from the notebook Dr. Laeverton had read during their sessions together. This passage spoke of an Eagle Owl, severe and violent dreams, flashbacks that included fantasy visions of floating candles, bubbling cauldrons, and people wearing dark robes and strange, pointed hats. Dr. Laeverton kept turning the pages, a sour feeling sinking into the pit of his stomach, and he stopped abruptly as he read a passage about Bane. It recalled, in detail, Smith becoming so angry at Bane that energy escaped from his body and nearly killed the other patient. Dr. Laeverton gnawed at his lower lip and shut the notebook thoughtfully. Usually, the Doc would brush this off as delusions and over active imaginations, except there had already been an account of this from Bane. It was the exact same story and Bane and Smith had not spoken once after the 'incident'. Also, there were many passages about an Eagle Owl outside of Smith's window and a large owl had been reported to flying into the Ward with a snake and bringing it into Smith's room. The icing on the cake, however, was that crazy people don't know they're crazy. Dr. Laeverton rose shakily to his feet. Smith's notebook had passages upon passages about whether or not Smith thought he was crazy and why he couldn’t tell the Doc or anyone else about these visions. If Smith was crazy, he certainly didn't want to be because he hid these thoughts from anyone who could condemn him so. Dr. Laeverton snatched up the notebook and carried it with him out of the office, down the hall, and directly into Bane's room. Bane looked from where he sat on his bed, eyes bright and cold. "Bane," Dr. Laeverton said. "I want you to tell me again what exactly happened between you and Mr. Smith."Slowly, Bane nodded. Harry glanced at the sheet of paper in his hand and back up at the large, red brick building. Squinting, Harry could make out a blond young man walking back and forth in his kitchen. Harry swallowed, his heart beating faster in his chest, and sat down on a nearby bench. Harry ran a hand through his jet-black hair and took a deep breath, trying to steady his rapid heartbeat. Harry hadn't slept at all the previous night. He had tossed and turned, every bone in his body screaming to go to America and immediately retrieve Draco Malfoy. Harry felt callous for treating the Malfoy Case so despairingly. And while sending Malfoy to America had been for his own good and wasn't even entirely Harry's own idea, Harry would be a liar if he said he hadn't thought it was funny or even felt a measure of satisfaction, knowing that whenever Draco would regain his memory, he would be embarrassed and angry. Harry knew now that Draco Malfoy wouldn't care so much that he was stashed with Muggles, but that he would despise everyone involved in his relocation for lying to him and seemingly abandoning him. Harry also knew that part of his own stress of getting Draco to remember was that the Pensieve had shown Harry enough to convince him that Draco wasn't a complete asshole and that maybe his actions during the Eve Battle had been more pure, righteous, and unselfish than he had thought. Harry had just never thought Draco had ever had it in him, or the desire, to be heroic…or, just to be a decent person.And something parallel to Harry's own past had beginning to show itself in Malfoy's Pensieve. Malfoy understood loss and grief as well as Harry did. Now, after the war, most people do. Then, at Hogwarts, it was difficult to see past your own text book on practical spells, let alone really take in war and death and the terrible sweetness of grief. Malfoy knew what it was like to feel alone and to feel like he wasn’t up to par with what people expected of him. Malfoy knew what it felt like to be lied to his whole life and he definitely knew what it felt like to disappoint those who believed him to be something worth greatness. Harry took in a shuddering breath and let it out slowly. In a million years, Harry never thought he would have so much in common with Draco Malfoy. Harry rose to his feet when a tall young man with dark brown hair, olive skin, and hazel eyes pulled up in a black Honda and got out of the car. Harry watched carefully as the man walked towards Draco's building, paused, and turned to him. The man squinted at Harry. “Hi,” the man said. “Are you new here?”Harry raised his brows. “Somewhat. I’m…visiting a friend.”“Yeah?” the man asked, walking towards him. “Who?”“Um, John. He lives up there.” Harry pointed at the brick building. The man broke out in a cheerful smile. “You mean Smith? What a coincidence, I’m here to see him too. He never said he was having a visitor.”“He doesn’t know,” Harry mumbled, perturbed by the young man’s cheerfulness. “Oh?” Deans frowned. “What was your name?”Harry thought for a moment, trying to recall the name Ron had given the doctor at St. Mary’s when he called. “Hale. Christian Hale. Pleasure.” Harry reached forward and shook the man’s hand, watching him slowly register and finally recognize the name. “Mr. Hale! Dr. Laeverton did mention your name. How do you do?”Harry faked a plastic smile and tried to pull his hand away. “I’m Deans,” the man said.Harry nodded. “Smith’s social worker.”Deans beamed at him. “Sure am. I forget, what division are you from?”Harry stared at him for a moment. “I’m here to see Smith,” Harry said finally. “And I’m sure you know the way.”Deans’ smile disappeared and he pursed his lips. “Mr. Hale—“Harry shook his head and walked passed him. Deans sputtered and had to jog to catch up. “Mr. Hale, Smith is somewhat…”“Delicate? Vulnerable? Maybe I should come back another time?”Deans had the grace to laugh. “Hardly delicate or vulnerable. He managed to convince me to make him dinner last night, the sneaky bastard.”Harry smiled, in spite of himself, and opened the door to the building, holding it out—semi-politely—for Deans as he did so. Deans thanked him and Harry followed him up the stairs and down the hall. Deans stopped in front of John Smith’s apartment door and turned back to Harry, using his body as a barrier between Harry and the door. Harry frowned and raised his gaze to Deans. “Listen, I’ll let you see him, I mean, he can see anyone he wants, but just…don’t overwhelm him,” Deans said, his tone anything but confrontational. “I mean, yesterday, he didn’t even know what a microwave was.”Harry snickered before he could stop himself and Deans grinned before he turned and unlocked the door. Inside, everything smelled like Ramen Noodles, and there were uneaten cups of them scattered everywhere. Deans cleared his throat, taking in the sight, and called for Smith. “Deans!” Draco called from his bedroom, “I found the manual for that microwave thing in the kitchen.”“I can see that,” Deans answered, going around the room, picking up the cups of noodles, and throwing them away. “You shouldn’t waste this food, Smith.”Harry felt something stab in his chest as Draco and Deans conversed normally to one another. They couldn’t have known one another for very long and Harry wondered if he was jealous of their casual banter.“Why?” Draco answered from his room, his voice somewhat muffled. “The food is completely terrible. I don’t even think it should qualify as food.”“Then why did you make so many?” Deans called back. “I was experimenting with the density of the noodles. Apparently, it doesn’t matter how long you put the cup into the microwave if all you want is softer noodles. If you want them hot, of course, you’ll want to keep them in there for a certain amount of time. However, the water doesn’t even have to be heated for the noodles eventually get soft! Brilliant!”Deans had stopped throwing away cups of noodles during Draco’s little conclusion about Ramen Noodles and was now staring incredulously towards Draco’s room. Deans glanced back at Harry, who shrugged and looked away. “What are you doing now, Smith?” Deans said finally. “Just left the loo, mate. Needed a shower.”“Hurry up, you have a visitor.”“Who is it?”Deans glanced at Harry who stared back with an emotionless mask covering his features while his eyes spoke volumes of discomfort. “Christian Hale,” Deans answered finally, becoming suspicious all over again.“Who?” Draco asked, coming out of his bedroom, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants, his blond hair still damp from the shower. Draco winced as he turned into the hall, his hand coming up to rub at his scar. Then Draco’s head snapped up when he spotted Harry behind Deans and his gray eyes became so dark they were nearly black. In three quick steps, Draco was in front of Harry, staring so hard at him Harry was compelled to take a step back. “Christian Hale,” Deans repeated, watching wide-eyed. “That’s not his name.” Draco stared at the man with jet-black hair and green eyes that he’d seen so often in his dreams and knew, just KNEW, that Christian Hale was not, could not possibly be, his name. There were too many syllables in the first name and not enough in the last. Draco could hear the man’s real name in the back of his mind in echoes of a whisper but he couldn’t grasp onto it.The man stared back at him, green eyes wide with anxiety...and a little of something else Draco couldn't name, and he shifted his gaze momentarily to Draco's lightning bolt scar. "Deans, get out," Draco ordered in a breathless whisper as shadows of images began flickering through his mind, too much and not nearly enough. Deans frowned, affronted and surprised in the same breath. "Excuse me, Mr. Smith, but I am charged with your well-being and I will not--"Draco's eyes left the green-eyed man's as he whirled on Deans, a glare spitting from his eyes that would give even the sturdiest man nightmares. "You insignificant piece of worthless wank," Draco growled in a low, dangerous voice, "I couldn't give half a shit what you were charged with. You are a waste of oxygen and this is my flat, you over-rated Betty-boy. I said get out. Now go. And don't, for fuck's sake, let the door injure that perfectly good ass of yours on the way out."Deans opened his mouth to protest, startled by this new side to Mr. Smith, but Smith cut him short with a sharp flick of his wrist. Deans looked between Hale and Smith, both men trembling with the tension that suddenly surrounded them. Finally, Deans threw his hands up in exasperation and burnt dignity and trudged towards the door. "I hope you know what you're doing, Mr. Smith," Deans muttered before closing the door behind him. Draco once again turned to the man with the green eyes. "I see you every night in my dreams," Draco bit out, his eyes blazing. "You're always there. I demand you tell me who you are and don't lie to me. I'm sick of all these bloody lies!"Harry gazed back at him, his mind trying to make sense of what to do next. Harry had thought, for the few minutes of hearing a good-natured version of Draco Malfoy hold a conversation with Deans, that the Malfoy heir had become a different person during his stay at St. Mary's. But now, the Draco Malfoy that Harry knew was staring intensely back at him, except that his gray eyes were wild, bright, and half-crazed. Harry, beginning to think that coming here without the Memory Draught and the proper supervision had been the worst impulse he had followed through in ages, reached into his sleeve and began to pull out his wand. Draco watched him, the images shooting through his mind coming in mad and jarred sequences, trying to distract him with all their might. Suddenly, Draco knew that if this man retrieved that stick from his sleeve, he would almost definitely forget everything all over again. He couldn't let that happen. Draco surged forward, his hand locking down on the other man's arm, and tried to suppress the sudden flood of images that began racing through his head at faster speeds and with more intensity. They circled around and around, spinning, crashing, blending into one another and Draco was dizzy with it. Draco shook violently as the visions battered against him, surging and receding with the awesome force of ocean waves under a storm. Lightning crashed in his mind and his feet turned to mush beneath him. His knees buckled and his mind froze when his thoughts could no longer keep up with the flashing and stumbling half-memories. Draco felt the floor disappear beneath him and his hand loosened its grip on the man's arm. His name is... His name is... Harry caught Draco when he lost consciousness and silently carried him into his bedroom, laying him carefully on the bed. Shock and confusion ran through Harry's body in tremors as he sat next to the sleeping Draco Malfoy. Allowing the sound of Draco's steady breathing to calm him, Harry took in an unsteady, deep breath and let it out slowly. This, officially, had been a very bad idea. Harry shakily got to his feet and left the flat, his movements barely making a sound. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~Scratching Through the Surface~One hour later...Ron hurried down the hall towards Muggle affairs. Ron held the note that had been owled to him moments before tightly in his enclosed fist. 'Ronald,' the note had read, 'get your ass in here now! ~Hermione.' Ron cleared his throat outside of the Muggle Affairs Head Office and mentally braced himself. Reaching up, Ron knocked lightly on the door. Ron nearly stumbled back when an arm suddenly thrust through the now opened door, grabbed his shirt collar, and roughly pulled him in. Inside, while Ron righted himself, Hermione paced her office like a caged lioness. "Ron," Hermione said angrily. "Where is Harry?"Ron shrugged. "I haven't seen him all morning.""Someone broke into my office this morning," Hermione continued. "I think it was Harry.""Why would Harry break into your office, 'Mione?"Hermione continued to pace. "The address of Draco Malfoy's new flat is missing."Ron stiffened and then he groaned loudly, throwing his hands into the air. "He's gone mental, that one!"Draco’s eyes flew open and he instantly sat up. He shook his head, trying to get a handle on where he was. Suddenly, remembering everything from an hour ago, Draco jumped to his feet and ran out into the hall, his stormy irises searching for the man with the green, green eyes. Realizing the man had left; Draco grabbed a chair angrily and threw it across the room with a shout. Clutching at his hair, Draco tried to think of where this man would go, where he could find him. This man knew him; Draco could see it in his eyes. He had to find him. He had to know who he was and why he was always in his dreams. Draco wouldn’t let the only person who knew who he really was slip away from him. He couldn’t let that happen. Draco shut his eyes tightly and tried to pull up the images that had always centered on that man, times where he saw the two of them corresponding. Draco bit his lip as one image came into his mind and remained there, becoming sharper and more vivid. Through the haze of his amnesia, Draco could make out a shiny, mahogany colored steam engine, the sound of its horn blasting through his head. Gold letters on the stern solidified and Draco concentrated on them, trying to make them out with all his might. Hogwarts Express. Draco took in a deep breath and held it, trying to keep that image solidly in his mind while attempting to move around it. Families hurried around one another on the platform and, out of the corner of his eye, Draco spotted a lone boy with messy black hair and rounded spectacles. The boy turned slightly, causing a thick black tendril of hair to shift slightly on the boy’s forehead. Draco gasped and the image suddenly vanished. The boy had an identical scar on his forehead, a lightning bolt one. And while Draco couldn’t remember if the man that had appeared in his flat had a similar scar or not, behind those rounded spectacles, that boy had the greenest eyes Draco had ever seen. Except once. Draco hurried into his room and pulled on some clothes. After throwing on a heavy black coat, Draco left the apartment, his long strides taking him down the stairs and out of the building. Draco stopped a small, hunched over, old woman and asked her where the nearest train station was. “Train station?” the old woman repeated. “That would be on Willow and Seventh. Five blocks that way.”Seated on a swing in the park two blocks from Draco’s flat, Harry frowned as he felt the familiar tingling in his mind. Squinting, he pushed it away and stood up, knowing that must mean Draco was awake. Harry couldn’t bring himself to Obliviate the Malfoy heir again but he also couldn’t handle staying in the apartment while the blond slept. Draco’s reaction had surprised and overwhelmed him. Harry had not realized their connection had become so strong so quickly. It had taken Harry years to figure out he was connected to Voldemort. All the same, it wasn’t so much Draco’s reaction that had frightened Harry, it was the strength and power of his magic rolling off of him in insuppressible waves when he had grasped Harry’s arm. It was electric and raw, cackling around Draco and snapping angrily at Harry until he was dizzy with it. Harry swallowed and shoved his hands in his pockets as he began to move back towards the apartment. Harry couldn’t explain why he’d left like that. He had an overwhelming urge to get out, to get away, to get some air and clear his head. He needed a new plan. The old one, if he had even had one, certainly didn’t work. Harry took a deep breath as he turned a corner and saw Draco’s building come into view. Here goes nothing. Deans greeted Harry with a death glare when he entered the apartment. “Where is he?” Deans grated. Harry’s jet-black brows went sky high as a sick, sour feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. “What do you mean? He’s not here?”“Are you serious?” Deans shrieked, panic shaking his voice. “I left him with you!”Harry spread his hands. “He was sleeping when I left. Calm down!”Deans ran a hand roughly through his dark curls. “He was my first case. They’re going to fire me for sure.”Harry snorted, somewhat sympathizing with the young Social Worker. “No kidding. Do you have any idea where he would have gone?”Deans bit his lip. “I don’t know.”“You still have that car?”Deans nodded. “Let’s go then. He couldn’t have gotten far.”Draco scowled when the metal bar wouldn’t move. He reached out and tried to unlock the mechanism it was connected to using the trick he learned to use on Dr. Laeverton’s door at the Ward. It still wouldn’t budge. Draco could see a train ahead of him, on the other side of the small, annoying devices that barred his way. Draco glanced over when an older man slipped some coins into the device and the bar gave way for him. He frowned, knowing he had no coins. “Fuck it,” Draco muttered as he jumped over the bar and made his way towards the train. It was an outdoor train station and the sky moved above him, slow and watchful. A security guard straightened when he saw Draco jump over and moved forward. “Excuse me, sir!” the guard barked. Draco raised a brow and turned to him. “Yes?”“Its thirty-five cents,” the guard said. Draco shrugged and turned away. The guard frowned and stepped in Draco’s path. “Sir, did you hear me?”“Yes. Please move.”“Sir, you need to pay the machine or leave.”Draco scowled. “Really, mate. Today is not the day. Get away from me.”“Thirty-five cents, sir,” the guard repeated, unperturbed. “Or I am going to ask you to leave.”Agitation welled up in him and Draco curled his hands into fists as he stared at the train. Not only was it not the Hogwarts Express, it wasn’t even a steam engine. Draco pressed back into that memory, trying to recall how it was that he had gotten there in the first place. “Platform…platform…”“Sir,” the guard said, reaching for his walkie-talkie. “I’m going to ask you one more time—“Draco snapped his fingers. “Platform Nine and Three Quarters! Where is it?”“Excuse me?”“Where is Platform Nine and Three Quarters?”“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the guard said shaking his head. “But I must ask you to leave.”“Leave?”“You need thirty-five cents, sir, or you must leave.”Draco shook his head incredulously. “No, no, no. I’m looking for someone. You haven’t seen him, have you? Black hair, green eyes, about my age, maybe an inch taller than me, Platform Nine and Three Quarters…?”“Sir—“Draco rolled his eyes and sidestepped the guard, approaching a small child with rosy cheeks and long golden curls. “You wouldn’t, by any chance, have thirty-five cents?”The little girl giggled and bent down, picking up a quarter and a dime from the pavement and handing them to Draco. Draco frowned slightly at the dirty coins but thanked the child anyway. He walked back to the guard, who was now accompanied by two more just like him, and handed him the coins. “Now,” Draco said, as if speaking to an idiot. “Platform Nine and Three Quarters.”“I don’t know what you are talking about sir,” the guard said, stepping closer to Draco, his hand hovering over a short black weapon his belt. “There is no such thing. What is your name?”Draco trembled as agitation hit him again like a bucket of cold water. “You realize you are most unhelpful,” Draco snapped.The guard behind him who had been speaking quietly into his walkie-talkie stepped forward. “Sir, Sgt. Tailer has asked you to leave. Please do so quickly and without any fuss.”Draco began to shake as the agitation churned in his blood and the visions began attacking his mind again, unwelcome and uninvited. “I’m looking for—““Sir,” another guard said. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. We will walk you out.” The guard moved forward and grabbed Draco on his upper arm. Draco’s eyes blazed. “Don’t touch me,” Draco shrieked, jerking away. “I need to find—“Suddenly, all three guards surged forward and attempted to grab Draco and restrain him. “Get off of me!” Draco roared and energy spiked and crackled around him. With a shout, Draco’s magic exploded from his body and the guards flew off of him screaming. Magic swirled around Draco in violent, uncontrollable spasm and Draco’s eyes glazed over as his mind shut down, completely succumbing to the power that had been locked inside his body for far too long.Dr. Laeverton hung up the phone and began walking briskly towards the Staff’s Office. Deans had just called him, informing him that Smith was missing and a certain Christian Hale was with him and helping him look for Mr. Smith. Deans didn’t trust Hale, that much was evident from the tone of his voice, but he agreed with the doctor on allowing him to help search for John Smith. Find Smith first, ask questions later. The Doc entered the Nurse’s Office and looked up when silence greeted his entrance. Every staff member present was staring at a small television and Dr. Laeverton’s mouth fell open when he saw what they were watching. “Doctor,” a Betty said breathlessly. “Isn’t that Mr. Smith?”There, amidst wreckage and fire, was John Smith, his head thrown back and exploding energy emanating from his body, causing catastrophe wherever it reached.Dr. Laeverton pulled out his cell phone and dialed Deans’ number. “Hello?” Deans said on the other line.“Deans,” Dr. Laeverton said in a hollow voice. “Get your ass over to Willow and Seventh. I’ll meet you there.”“Is that where Smith is?”“Yes.”“How do you know?”“I’m watching him on Channel Nine.”Hermione waited for Ron outside of Draco’s flat, impatient and trying to push back a persistent migraine. It had taken longer to get here than Hermione would have like because they had to first go to Hogwarts and retrieve a Memory Draught from Snape’s storage unit as Hermione’s had not been completed yet. Snape, of course, had been infinitely clear that he was furious at their incompetence concerning is godson. Then, they had to owl four other Aurors to aid their search. Now, nearly two hours later, Ron had left Hermione outside with three of the four chosen Aurors, Mackle, Boyle, and Nadger, to go search Draco’s flat for Harry. Anin had went with Ron and Hermione frowned when they came back out of the building the same as they had entered it—without Harry Potter. “Where is he?” Hermione demanded for the seeming billionth time that day.Ron ran a hand through his hair as he approached his glaring fiancée. “I don’t know, ‘Mione. He hasn’t been gone long though. Anin and I found traces of his and Draco’s magic all over the flat.”Hermione’s brown eyes widened a fraction. “Malfoy was using his magic? Do you think they had a battle?”Anin, a pleasant fellow with blond hair and light brown eyes, shook his head solemnly. “No, ma’am. There was no sign of a struggle. And we believe that Potter left after Malfoy. His magic is the freshest even though it seems only residual. Malfoy’s traces are much more distinct if a bit scrambled.”Ron nodded his agreement and watched Hermione’s frown deepen. “We should have brought Hedwig, Ron,” Hermione said finally. “She would be able to locate him fairly quickly.”“Should we go get her?” Mackle inquired from where he stood on Hermione’s left. Hermione shook her head. “I don’t think we have that kind of time. Especially if Malfoy’s magic is exuding that kind of unrestrained power. Wherever Malfoy is, Harry is. We need to locate Malfoy.”Suddenly, two American Aurors dressed in navy blue robes Apparated a few feet from them. “Mr. Weasley?” the taller one called out. Ron immediately turned and walked towards them. “Yes, that’s me.”“A moment please,” the shorter one said and bent his head to speak to Ron in low tones. Hermione watched as the blood drained from Ron’s freckled face and when he walked back to Hermione, he wouldn’t quite meet her eyes. “Ron, what is it?”“The Yankees say they just came from a train station five blocks from here,” Ron murmured. “Malfoy’s there surrounded by Muggles and…he’s losing his mind.”“Losing his mind?” Hermione asked shrilly.“They say he’s causing quite the fuss and that the Muggles will kill him if he doesn’t stop blowing shit up.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~“Temporary” Equilibrium ~“When all stellar energy sources are exhausted, the interior of a star will undergo a gravitational collapse. In this sense a star is a "temporary" equilibrium state between a gravitational collapse at stellar birth and a gravitational collapse at stellar death.” ~Astronomical PhysicsMinutes later…Harry’s mouth dropped open when he and Deans pulled into the train station’s parking lot in Deans’ black Honda. Before the car was fully parked, Harry had opened the passenger door and jumped out, running towards the scene unfolding before him. Helicopters circled above as squad and S.W.A.T. cars and vans swerved in and were parked near the tracks, acting as a barrier for the law enforcement officials trying to get a handle on the situation, screaming into walkie-talkies and gesturing wildly to one another. Near the train, Draco hovered inches above the ground in an upright position, the tips of his toes slightly brushing the concrete from time to time. His head was thrown back and his mouth slightly open, his hands were lax by his sides and the whites of his eyes could be seen from where Harry stood, yards away, and they seemed to be glowing. A sphere of red and gold crackling energy surrounded the Malfoy heir and the inner core of the sphere seemed to be filled with blue and green string-like energies, swirling around and moving through Draco’s body. The lower third of the spheres disappeared within the concrete below Draco and the pavement was cracked and uneven, standing up at odd, jagged angles until the outer sphere ended near the train and where the police and S.W.A.T vehicles strategically lay. Harry stared as his running slowed to a walk, wondering in amazement at why Draco looked so peaceful and he was reminded of when Draco was taken up into the air after killing Voldemort and granted a second life by ancient magic that few understood.Harry found his steps drawn towards the outer sphere and he was shocked out of the semi-trance when a gruff-looking Muggle police officer roughly shoved him back. “Sir, this area is not safe,” The man said to Harry pulling him away before turning to another officer speaking into a headset. “Lieutenant! I thought we vacated the station!”“We did Sergeant Bowler,” the lieutenant snapped. “Get him out of here!”Harry opened his mouth to protest but Deans, who had finally caught up, pulled on his arm. Harry turned to him and saw an older man behind him with a salt and pepper beard step up quickly and addresses the man with the headset. “Lieutenant Fitz, I am Dr. Laeverton from St. Mary’s Hospital. This is Michael Deans and Christian Hale. We know this man.”“You know him?!” the lieutenant barked, violently jerking off his headset and stomping forward. “Then tell me, doctor, what the hell is he and how the hell are we going to stop him?!”“He’s not dangerous--” Harry began before a sonic wave of invisible energy shot from the sphere’s core--Draco Malfoy--and pushed outwards, throwing every person back who wasn’t anchored to something and shattering the glass of the nearby train’s windows and the glass of the surrounding vehicles. Harry, whose wandless magic had automatically activated a shield around his body, enabling him to remain standing, gaped at Draco, trying to make sense of what was happening to him. “Not dangerous, huh?” the lieutenant muttered as he came to his feet and picked up his headset. “Those waves have been getting increasingly bigger.”The headset crackled in the man’s hand. “I--a--shot--’Nant--” a voice said over the communication. The lieutenant raised the headset to his ear. “Say again?”“I have a shot, Lieutenant!”“NO!” Harry shouted. “You cannot--”The man turned to Dr. Laeverton as he waved dismissively at Harry. “If your input isn’t going to be productive, I must ask you to vacate the area.” Then he pulled out a walkie-talkie, adjusted the channel, and put it near his mouth. "Captain, target is in range. Alpha Dove has a shot. Permission to take down target?"The walkie-talkie crackled. "Granted," the captain answered from wherever he was. "No!" Harry said again. “Lieutenant, I’m sure there is a way to diffuse the situation without shooting my patient,” the Doc said calmly. The man shrugged. “We’re using rubber bullets. It won’t kill him.” The man raise his fist to an unseen party, flattened his fingers and teetered his hand in short movements. A rifle went off and Harry watched helplessly as the large blue rubber bullet shot through the sphere and slammed into Draco’s left shoulder. His body snapped forward and he wavered at an odd angle before his eyes snapped shut, his mouth formed a frown of severe consternation, and his hands closed into tight fists. Slowly, Draco moved upright again and suddenly another sonic wave shot forth; only this time, the train and the vehicles were surrounded by the invisible energy and began levitating at the height Draco hovered above the ground. The red and gold outer sphere glowed brighter and began to pulse as Muggle officers ran to and fro, the mood around them becoming less professional and more frantic. Harry continued to stare in bewilderment as the lieutenant slowly came to his feet and, eyes wide in disbelief, came to stand next to him. Harry turned and met the man's gaze. "Alright," Lieutenant Fitz murmured. "I'm listening."Harry's mind raced, trying to formulate an excuse that would convince this man not to order his precinct to unleash hell on Draco Malfoy."Who is he, Hale?" Deans demanded as he came to his feet as well. "I know you know."Harry's green eyes flickered over to Deans' hazel ones, and then over to Dr. Laeverton's as he came to stand with them too. All three of them stared at Harry, their eyes hard and expectant. Harry swallowed past his fear and turned to gaze at Draco Malfoy as he hung, suspended at the center of the spheres of energy, the residual pressure waves pushing outward causing the train and the vehicles to bob in the air. "He saved my life once," Harry said softly. "Whatever is happening to him, we need to concentrate on getting him out alive. He's a good man...And it would be my fault if he died today."Ron Weasley paused when Hermione stopped in her tracks, staring open-mouthed at Malfoy as something clicked in her brain. They were just about to approach the local precinct's Captain, posing as UK Secret Service and the FBI with the American Aurors who claimed they did it all the time, to get his officers to stand down and get the helicopters away from the area. Mackle and Anin had been sent off in search of Harry and Boyle and Nadger were on their brooms, circling above the helicopters and using their magic to keep the flying Muggles away from the dangerous reach of Malfoy's exploding energy. Ron turned towards his fiancée. "What is it, 'Mione?" Hermione took in a deep breath, her eyes flickering to Ron's. "Ron, I need you to handle the Captain on your own. Can you do that?"Ron laughed in her face. "Really, Ron. I need to find Harry.""Mackle and Anin are after him," Ron said. "I--""Ron, you need to convince the Captain to get everyone away from here, including his men.""Why?"Hermione looked back at Malfoy suspended in his sphere of energy, apprehension churning in her stomach. "Because it's his magic that's outside of him. And...that's exceptionally problematic.""I don't understand, Mr. Hale," Dr. Laeverton said. "How do you--"Suddenly, Mackle and Anin were at Harry's elbow and insistently pulling him away. Frowning, the Doc stepped forward. "Mr. Hale--""Listen, Doc," Mackle said, interrupting him. "First of all, it's 'Agent Hale' with the United Kingdom Secret Service. Second, back the fuck up."Harry blinked at him and then grinned. Mackle was a Muggle-born who had become an Auror two years before Harry and had plenty of experience dealing with Muggles on their own terms and without having to use magic. Anin, Mackle's partner, smiled pleasantly at the three men who stared after them as they pulled Harry away and his smile turned to acid when he regarded the young Auror. "Nicely done, Potter," Anin bit out. "This is quite the catastrophe."Harry's grin instantly vanished. Anin was usually pleasant but, as an Auror, the older man was all business. Having no argument, Harry remained silent. "Alright, here's the deal," Mackle said, standing between the two. "We've got Boyle and Nadger up high. Granger and your partner Weasley are with two American Aurors trying to handle the situation with the Muggles. Do you understand what's happening with that Malfoy bloke?"Harry shook his head silently. "I recognize the Doc," Anin said, squinting back at the three Muggles they had left behind. "Granger showed me a picture. Who are the other two?""Michael Deans, the younger one, is Malfoy's Muggle Social Worker--""A what?" Mackle asked and Anin shook his head at him. "And Lieutenant Fitz, the bloke on the left," Harry continued, "is with the local precinct.""I see," Anin said. Anin frowned and looked back at Malfoy. The three wizards braced themselves as another wave of invisible energy radiated from the large sphere. Mackle gestured to the Muggles who slowly returned to their feet, talking animatedly to one another. "We need to get them out of here," Mackle said. "Hermione!" Harry shouted as he saw her running towards them. Breathlessly, Hermione skidded to a halt in front of them and waved her hands. "Harry! Malfoy is going to implode!"Harry drew his brows violently together. "What?!""That sphere is his magic, Harry," Hermione tried to explain. "Collectively, a trained wizard has the magic of a thousand Killing Curses. If that energy escapes the sphere, this whole place is going to all hell!""I thought you said he would learn to control it," Harry shouted. "A Wizard's magic is tuned the Wizard's emotions, Harry," Hermione said in a rushed voice and stamping her foot. "The only way for a Wizard to push all of his magic outside of his body is to completely loose control of his emotions. His overwhelming memories must have triggered that, Harry! Look at him!"Harry bit his lip and stared over at Malfoy. "What is the inner sphere?""I don't know, but whatever it is, it's what is connecting Malfoy to his magic. It's the only reason he hasn't lost it yet."Harry turned back to Hermione. "Could he regain his magic?"Hermione looked away. "In theory...""In WHAT theory?"Hermione spread her hands helplessly. "Harry...if he snapped out of it...um, maybe...""Maybe what?" Harry said, exasperated. "Maybe if I calmed him down?""You wouldn't be able to reach him, Harry!"Harry turned once again to Malfoy's outer sphere and clenched his teeth. "Watch me.""Harry, NO!"Hermione surged forward to grab Harry but Anin and Mackle restrained her, watching carefully as one of the Ministry's youngest Aurors approached the red and gold wall of crackling energy. Harry murmured the Shield Charm and tried to push into the outer sphere. Instantly, Harry was thrown back and he landed heavily on his back. Harry listened as the roaring noise of the Muggles running to and fro, the sirens blaring, the shouting, the helicopters, and everything else faded away as he approached the outer sphere again. It wasn't that the outer sphere made any noise; it was that the energy was so intense, it muted out everything else. Harry took a deep breath and concentrated. He conjured the Shield Charm again and turned slightly to Accio Hermione's wand. Taking both his and Hermione's wands and pointing the tip of them at separate areas, he slowly eased them in. Automatically, energy spiked and crackled around the tips of the wands, and Harry bit his lip so hard he tasted blood as he pulled the two wands together. Once the two wands connected, a brilliant white hot line of energy shot up the edge of the outer sphere in front of Harry's Shield. Immediately, Harry pushed forward into the weakened spot. Heat enveloped Harry as he slowly made his way through Malfoy's exploding magic and the Shield fought to wrap Harry in a safe cocoon of energy. Harry's lungs felt compressed and the pressure on his ribs was nearly unbearable. His eyes watered and his vision blurred. Soon, he was walking blind and the sound in his ears was a screaming silence. Dizziness attacked him and Harry closed his eyes against it. His stomach churned and he clenched his teeth. The pressure was so painful and the heat so unbearable and he couldn't see or hear and then, suddenly, someone was speaking. "You must stay hidden, Draco." Snape’s voice. Harry would recognize it anywhere. "I know." Malfoy?Harry turned toward the sound as it faded away and tried to blink the blinding tears out of his eyes. His skin began to cool and the pressure lifted from his heart and, abruptly, Harry heard a new voice. "It is what you do that defines you, Draco. I wouldn't delude myself otherwise if I were you." Dumbledore!"You're not me," Draco snapped back. "Very true." Harry fought to open his eyes but they wouldn't cooperate. "Does this mean you don't care, Draco?" Pansy Parkinson. "It must." "I don't believe you." A pause. "One day, you will. And then you'll second guess yourself; again and again." "I hate you." Another pause. "Good. It will hurt less."Suddenly, Harry's body came flush up against another's and the voices shifted and wavered. Then Harry's eyelids began to work again. As Harry opened his eyes, the voices merged together, sounding like a room full of people was all talking at once. In front of him, Draco hovered with his eyes shut tightly and his fists clenched at his sides. And he was listening. Harry looked around, realizing that the blue and green of the inner sphere came from his memories. His memories were what was connecting him to his magic! Or, maybe, Malfoy had subconsciously used his magic to pull his memories from his mind so he could shift through them. Maybe it was the other way around and this was simply the end result. Harry took a deep breath and reached up, curling his fingers around the back of Draco's neck and into his light blond hair. Connecting with Draco's magic, Harry dispersed his Shield Charm and allowed himself to levitate with Draco, inches above the ground. Harry pressed his forehead against Draco's, feeling the tingling of his old scar touching his skin. "Malfoy."Draco's eyes shot open, his pupils wide and unfocused. "My name," Draco whispered in a hollow voice. "Yes," Harry murmured. "Your name is Draco Malfoy.""I know," Draco whispered and a smile stretched his lips. "Yes, I know."They bobbed there for a moment before Draco spoke again. "I've been looking for you.""In your memories?" Harry whispered back. "Yes.""I am not a memory.""No?""I am right here, Malfoy, and so are you. Look at me."Slowly, Draco's eyes focused on Harry's face and he stared into Harry's eyes. "Harry Potter.""That's right," Harry whispered, nodding against Draco's forehead. "You have to calm down, Malfoy. You could kill a lot of people if you don't calm down."Draco twitched and closed his eyes. "No, no, no," Harry said, shaking Draco slightly. "Look at me, Malfoy. You have to."Draco opened his eyes and the silver irises flashed with familiarity. His hands came down and grasped Harry's wrists. Squeezing, Draco bit his lip and stared into Harry's eyes, emerald orbs shimmering reflections of the energy around them. "I need your help," Draco whispered. "I'm right here," Harry murmured and cried out when an imploding pulse of energy shot inward and through them. Draco gritted his teeth and concentrated. Everyone had gasped when they saw the outer sphere flash white and shimmer inward. Hermione struggled against Mackle and Anin, screaming about getting Harry out of there. The two Aurors watched stoically as the sphere shimmered again and became smaller. Suddenly, the sphere turned silver and then a blinding white, obscuring Harry and Draco from view, and everyone threw their arms up to shield their eyes. When they moved their arms, the spheres were gone and Harry Potter stood among the wreckage, holding a sobbing, delirious Draco Malfoy in a tight embrace. Finally, Mackle and Anin released Hermione and she ran forward. Reaching Harry, she slipped the Memory Draught into Harry back pocket and retrieved her wand before stepping to the side to meet Harry pained gaze. "Get him out of here, Harry," Hermione murmured, her expression dazed and full of unrepentant awe. "We'll clean this mess up."Harry nodded and Apparated himself and Draco back to London.Arriving in front of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Harry pulls out a piece of paper and has Draco read it. Being invited, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place appeared to the Malfoy heir and Harry led him inside. Draco's sobs had calmed by the time Harry had gotten him to the stairs leading up to the guest rooms, and his blond head was passively resting on Harry's shoulder. Once Harry settled him into a bed, Harry sat on the edge of it and handed him the Memory Draught. "What is this?" Draco whispered, taking the vial and inspecting. "Drink it, and you'll remember everything.""Do I want to?"Harry frowned. "Do you want to what?""Remember?"Harry looked away and stood up. "That's not for me to decide." Harry walked into the bathroom and returned with another vial. "This will help you sleep without dreams," Harry said, handing it over. "It's a suggestion."Draco raised his eyes to Harry's. "Will it be that bad?"Harry's eyes softened a bit. "It might," Harry said honestly. Moments passed before Draco said anything. "Thank you," Draco murmured finally.Harry blinked, caught off guard. He didn't respond until he left the room--and Draco--and went downstairs and into the kitchen. Harry opened the fridge, looked inside, and closed it. Then he sat down at the kitchen table and buried his face in his hands. "You're welcome."** ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.A/N: This chapter marks the beginning of Arch Two. Enjoy! ~Not Quite Paradise~“…down the dankmoldering paths and past the Ocean’s streams they wentand past the White Rock and the Sun’s Western Gates and pastthe Land of Dreams, and soon they reached the fields of asphodelwhere the dead, the burnt-out wraiths of mortals make their home…” (Odyssey 24.5-9, translation by Robert Fagles).The next morning…~~Draco slowly opened his eyes and automatically murmured a charm to dispel his headache. As the throbbing pain behind his eyes eased, a half-smile curved his pale lips. Draco Malfoy remembered the Mind Calm Charm. Then, as quickly as his smile appeared, it vanished. Draco sat up on the large bed and looked around him. His cultivated mind immediately caused a platinum blond brow to rise as he took in the once-lavish décor of the room he was in. The drapery and furniture were expensive and well thought out but it was covered in inches of dust and moth-eaten holes covered the fabric. It was as if someone had put a great deal of effort into designing the large bedroom and then had completely forgotten about it after the project was over. The colors were dark and rich, the light from the warm fire of the fireplace glancing off of the picture frames on the walls and washing over the thick carpet before it, like a glass of red wine by candlelight. Draco threw back the covers and placed his feet on the floor. He glanced over at the nightstand by the large, gilded bed and gazed at the two empty vials set there. Idly, the fingers of his right hand went to the sleeve of his left arm. Pushing up the fabric and keeping his blank gaze in the general direction of the two vials, Draco traced the scratched out imaged of Voldemort’s Dark Mark with his fingertips. Abruptly feeling sick, Draco doubled over and put his head between his knees. Draco clutched his hair, no struggle this time in discerning his memories and he wondered what was worse as his mind screamed for the haven of his amnesia. Taking in three deep breaths, Draco forced his heart beat to slow and his thoughts to quit roaring of their own accord. Draco sat back up and looked at the vials once more before coming to his feet. Wherever he was, it was Harry Potter who brought him here. Draco wouldn’t allow himself to be a sobbing mess the next time they spoke. Draco turned in a circle and spotted a pair of his black slacks, neatly folded, black robes with the silver hem Malfoy’s were trademark for wearing, and a black silk, open-collar shirt lying across the couch in front of the fireplace. Draco nodded to himself, appreciating, despite himself, that throughout this entire ordeal, at least he was provided his own damn clothes. After washing up in the adjoining bathroom and dressing, Draco walked over to the window and pulled back one heavy, velvet curtain, squinting against the burst of bright eastern sunlight. The dawn was cold and gray, the way Draco Malfoy knew—and remembered—he liked them and, more delightfully, it was an English dawn. He could tell by the ever-present residual smell of rain and the lifting fog that never quite went away. Not quite the Paradise he was expecting after he died, but it would do.~~Draco wandered into the kitchen minutes later and spotted Harry Potter dozing at a small table, his cheek propped against his hand. Draco wondered where the rounded spectacles Harry usually wore were and allowed himself a small grin, realizing that The-Boy-Who-Lived looked quite harmless when he slept. Draco leaned against the wall and cleared his throat. “I suppose we’re even then.”Immediately, Harry’s eyes shot open and his head jerked up. Harry blinked a few times before his green eyes focused on the figure before him and Draco smirked, making sure to keep the lines around his curling lip hard and minutely bemused. “What?” Harry managed finally. “I saved your life, you saved mine; we’re square,” Draco answered calmly. Harry didn’t answer but he reached into his sleeve and produced Draco’s wand. Draco’s gray eyes brightened covetously and he whispered Accio, thoughtlessly, in his mind, summoning his wand to himself. Catching it, his magic calmed from the swirling torrent within him to a slow push and pull every wizard felt when they concentrated on their magic flowing through them. Pocketing his wand, Draco glanced back at Harry, watching him run a hand over his face and look like the world was, once again, resting on his shoulders. “Are you an Auror now?” Draco asked, resuming his perch against the wall. Harry nodded blearily, not quite meeting Draco’s eyes. Draco’s trademark smirk was back in full force. “So was all this your doing?”“Mostly,” Harry answered honestly in a hoarse voice. Draco pursed his lips, trying to hold back his laughter as it boiled up inside of him. “There’s this weapon the Muggles use…I believe it’s called a Magnum 44.” Harry raised his eyes, lifting a black brow questioningly. “The bullet's on me,” Draco said, pressing a fist to his lips, his eyes gleaming with vicious laughter. “Oh, go fuck yourself, Malfoy,” Harry growled, the familiarity of their childhood rivalry almost comfortable. Draco released his laughter and it rang off of the walls of the kitchen. “Harry Potter, Auror of the Ministry of Magic…responsible for the most incredible fuck up in the Wizarding World ever…”“Shut your face, Malfoy,” Harry said scowling. “Not ‘ever’. I mean, that would have to belong to the day you were born…”“Less than original, Potter,” Draco remarked with another sarcastic curl of his lip. “I expected more from you.”Harry’s scowl lost its fire and he looked away. “Yeah, so did everybody else.”Draco drew his brows together. “I was talking about your comeback, you ponce. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You’re even less Gryffindor than I am.” Harry was immediately on his feet. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? And what the hell makes you think you know anything about me?”Draco slowly, deliberately raised his hand to his forehead and tapped the lightening bolt scar with his forefinger. Harry’s eyes followed the movement and he unconsciously chewed on his lower lip as he gazed at the scar that used to belong on his skin. “It bloody hurts when you feel like shite, Potter,” Draco murmured. “Do us a favor and suck it up, you pansy.” Draco paused. Then, “Was it like this with you and Voldemort?”Harry shook his head slowly. “Not really. I hated him; the pain was more violent.”Draco snorted. “And what makes you think I don’t hate you?”Harry gave him a long-suffering look. “Oh, right,” Draco said sarcastically while still managing to sound charming. “I saved you from mutually assured destruction.” Draco turned to walk out of the kitchen, but paused near the hall. “Don’t kid yourself, Potter. I will always be a Muggle-hating Malfoy and if you don’t hate me now, you will eventually. Isn’t that the game we play?”“No,” Harry said softly, placing his hands flat against the wood of the table. “What have we given, Malfoy?”Draco went very still. “My friend, blood shaking my heart,” Harry continued as Draco slowly turned and stared at him. “The awful daring of a moment’s surrender…which an age of prudence can never retract—““By this, and this only, we have existed,” Draco finished for him, his voice as icy as his eyes. “You sneaky bastard, you found my Pensieve.”It wasn’t a question and they both knew it. “You can’t pretend to be an asshole anymore, Malfoy.”A slow, cruel smile curved Draco’s mouth and the sight of it sent shivers down Harry’s spine. Draco moved back into the kitchen, his presence in the small room suddenly feeling black and oppressive to Harry. Draco walked until he was directly in front Harry before pausing and leaning forward so that his breath brushed along Harry’s cheek and the sound of his soft voice echoed loudly in his ear. “Oh, yes I can, Potter.”Harry swallowed and stubbornly set his jaw. He had dealt with Draco Malfoy at Hogwarts; he was more than equipped to do so again now no matter what he playing at. “Yeah? How do you explain quoting Muggle poetry when being remarked by Voldemort?”Draco chuckled softly. “T.S. Eliot was a Squib, you idiot.” Harry closed his eyes as Draco’s soft, mocking laughter spread across his cheek, leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake. Harry almost sighed in relief when Draco pulled back for a moment, a quizzical look plastered across his face that almost looked comical. “Which might actually be worse, you know,” Draco said after a moment. “I sort of lived as a Squib these past few months. Less than appealing, I can assure you; though I’m sure you and your friends had good, hard laugh at my expense.”“It was Snape’s idea,” Harry muttered defensively. Draco snorted. “You really should have been in Slytherin, you know that?” Draco murmured as he leaned in again. “Merlin forbid you should take responsibility for your own actions.”“And what about you?” Harry asked, refusing to step back. “At least I don’t pretend to be something I’m not.”That cruel smile was back. “Don’t you?”“What are you talking about, Malfoy?”“You know. Confusion is a coward’s way out and you are no coward.”“You’re contradicting yourself, Malfoy.”“Am I?” Draco’s breath in Harry’s ear was nearly driving him mad. “Step away from me, Malfoy. You’re too close.”Draco smirked and Harry turned his face to glare directly at him. “You’ve gone soft, Potter. You must have missed me.”Harry scowled. “Is that why you did it? Because you knew no one would miss you?”Draco’s eyes flashed with something Harry couldn’t name and Draco’s smile almost became soft. “That’s more like it, Potter.”Guilt wrapped around Harry’s heart and squeezed and Harry opened his mouth to apologize. Draco saw the look and cut him off with a wave of his hand, stepping away suddenly and leaving Harry feeling cold and miserable all over again. “I wish to see my Godfather,” Draco said before disappearing down the hall. “Bring him here.”Harry allowed the trembling that quivered inside of him to well up and shake his limbs before he forcefully dispelled it and willed his heartbeat to slow. Harry took in a deep breath and tried not to be frustrated that he had just spent nearly twenty minutes with Draco Malfoy and hadn’t managed to get a single question answered. ~~Severus Snape found his godson in the Library of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place and knocked softly on the doorframe. Draco, being a professional at making people wait for him, did not look up until he was finished reading the page he was on of the book he was sitting in a chair with, the fireplace blazing beside him. Snape had received the owl from Harry Potter little over an hour before and rushed from Hogwarts to see his godson, the apprehension and curiosity nearly strangling his senses. Potter was no where to be found when he arrived and Snape had wandered the Black residence, following the warmth of the fire that Draco must have made for himself. Marking his place in his book, Draco carefully set it down and glanced up at his godfather with a decidedly bland expression on his sharp features. “Hello, Godfather.”“Draco,” Snape answered with a curt nod of his head, his apprehension only a whisper of a shadow behind his black eyes. “I trust you are well?”“As well as can be expected, I suppose,” Draco said. “I’m not even supposed to be alive.”Snape’s mouth curved in his version of a smile. “You’re an idiot, by the way.”“Your consoling nature is always so overwhelming,” Draco shot back softly. “Why did you do it?”Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I expected that question from Potter, not you, Godfather.”“Regardless,” Snape said with a flick of his of his wrist. “Why?”“Do I really need a reason outside my mother, Godfather?” Draco said quietly, staring into the fireplace and its frolicking flames. “Yes,” Snape said. Draco looked up at his godfather and raised a blond brow. “Oh?”“You said yourself, Draco, you’re not supposed to be alive,” Snape answered softly. “Revenge for Narcissa would still not qualify as pure selflessness. The ancient magic of Sacrifice would not have been invoked through just revenge.”Draco pursed his lips and looked back into the fire, finding no warmth there but enjoying the view much more than Snape’s demanding gaze. “What do you want me to say, Godfather? That I embarked on a soul-changing journey and my heart was pure light and love by the time I confronted Voldemort?”Snape snorted but did not answer; such was their secret humor. Draco sighed and rubbed his at his temples. “I don’t think I should say, Godfather. I think I may be in enough trouble as it is.”“Could it possibly be that bad, that you couldn’t even tell me?”Draco continued to stare at the fire. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with Potter, would it?”Draco’s eyelids twitched but he still did not respond. However, Snape knew his godson too well. “You must be joking.”Draco’s mouth tightened into a thin line before he answered. “Would it be fair, after all these years, for Potter to die because of some genius mistake made by one maniac of a dark wizard?” “Since when do we give a Muggle’s ass what is fair and what is not, Draco?”Draco laughed softly. “You have no idea, Godfather. I just…I knew it would be hard for our world to pick itself up after the Eve Battle, but even more so if their hero died. I made it so he wouldn’t and now he’s an Auror. Isn’t that sweet?”“How do you expect me to believe a word you just said, Draco?”Draco smiled thinly. “Where is he, by the way?”“The Ministry, no doubt. Potter has quite the mess to clean up.”“A mess that was you originally your idea?” Draco inquired with a sarcastic smirk. “I had no idea Potter and Weasley would be so incompetent—““You taught them for six years, Godfather,” Draco said with a roll of his eyes. “Really, what were you thinking?”Snape spread his hands. “Potter has been committed to your case for three years, Draco. I didn’t think—““Three years?” Draco asked suddenly. “What do you mean?”“Potter didn’t tell you?” Snape asked. “You were in some kind of coma for three years after the Eve Battle.”“What was the exact number of days?”“Pardon?”“The exact number of days, Godfather.”Snape thought for a moment. “I believe…One thousand, two hundred, and…seventy six days.”“Huh.” Draco sat back in his chair. “That’s interesting.”“What is?”“That is how long I was gone making the VCE Elixir.”Snape shook his head. “No, it takes four years and nine months to make the—““You really think I would sit there by a cauldron for the entirety of nearly five years, Godfather?”“I see.”Draco rested his chin in his hand. “One, two, seven, six…I wonder if that has any merit.”“I specialize in Potions, Draco, not Numerology.”“I am aware, Godfather. Thank you for your enlightening input.”Snape frowned at him before his face went tight with worry as Draco gasped in pain and clutched at his scar. Snape rushed forward and knelt before his godson. “Draco, what’s wrong?”“Potter,” Draco bit out through clenched teeth, “is not having a good day.”~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~A Gentlemen’s Agreement~At the Ministry…~~“Blinding sun, Potter!” Rufus Scrimgeour, the Minister of Magic, shouted, his round face flushed in aggravation. “What am I going to do with you?”Assuming the question was rhetorical, Harry Potter remained silent. The Minister had been shouting at him for nearly twenty minutes already and Harry figured it would be best to let the man spend his energy before speaking at all. Ron, who refused to even look at Harry after seeing Hermione Granger run from the Minister’s Office on the verge of tears before being called in themselves, was an ever present silent shadow behind Harry. Harry could feel the irritation rolling off of his partner in his direction and had to fight the urge to turn around and look at him. Scrimgeour continued to pace the office and Harry and Ron stared straight ahead, their faces blank and expressionless; except Harry’s, whose green eyes were bright and simmering with a storm cloud of anger and frustration. “This fiasco was completely avoidable!” Scrimgeour continued. “I don’t know what got in your sodding head, Potter! And involving Muggle Affairs was certainly not the best of your bright ideas!” On and on he went and Harry’s mind screamed for him to shout back that Malfoy was alive and that was actually his job and therefore—“Are you listening to a word I’m saying, Potter?!”Harry head snapped towards the Minister. “Yes, sir.”“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”Harry lifted his chin but delayed his response when Ron tugged on the hem of his robe as if to say, ‘don’t make it worse, you dolt.’Harry took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I can handle the situation in America, sir.”Scrimgeour laughed in his face. “Like you handled it yesterday?”“No, sir.”“What are you going to do, Obliviate everybody?” Scrimgeour sneered. “That seems to be your answer for everything!”A muscle twitched in Harry’s jaw but he did not respond when he felt another tug on his robe. “The American Ministry has it under control,” Scrimgeour said in a calmer tone. “Thank Merlin they’re not holding any resentment. Apparently, they deal with this sort of thing frequently. New Mexico had some interesting occurrences a couple decades ago that they managed to blame on aliens from outer space…and then there was that terrible little bit with a bridge in West Virginia a few years back. Now, they say they can blame everything on low-budget film making…whatever that is.”Harry raised a brow but said nothing. “But you, Potter!” Scrimgeour said, raising his voice again. “What am I going to do with you?!”Harry remained silent, but, for once, this only seemed to make the Minister angrier. Scrimgeour finished his pacing and threw himself into a chair, glaring for all he was worth at one of his youngest Aurors. “You are proving to be the worst investment I ever made,” Scrimgeour spat. The rage that simmered behind Harry’s green eyes boiled and his fingers curled into fists. “That’s awfully rich, Minister, considering all we’ve done for the past three years! One accident does not negate—““WE?!” Scrimgeour exploded. “Not we, Potter! You! You are completely incompetent and I have half a mind to take you off the Malfoy Case altogether and send you on an unpaid suspension! Now what do you think of that?”“I am not incompetent.”Ron tugged roughly on Harry’s robe and this time Harry whirled on him. “Would you cut it out?!”“Fine,” Ron hissed icily, staring passed Harry. “Get us fired. Be my guest.”Harry turned back to the Minister, his anger blotting out any clear thought his mind might have been trying to formulate. Suddenly, Harry heard Draco’s voice in his head. ‘Suck it up, you pansy.’ Harry took in a deep breath and let it out slowly before approaching the desk. Harry placed both hands on the Minister’s desk and leaned forward, staring directly at Scrimgeour. “If you really think there is a soul in this place that would be able to handle Malfoy better than I, then have at it,” Harry said, watching as Scrimgeour’s angry demeanor began to calm. This is the Auror everyone expected from Harry Potter; not the brash young man who causes catastrophes in Wisconsin. “Why do you think you are so much better equipped?” Scrimgeour asked.Harry smiled thinly as he raised his hand and tapped his forehead—where his scar used to be—just like Draco had done to him earlier that morning. Scrimgeour pursed his lips, thinking. Finally, his eyes softened and he sighed, running his chubby fingers over his face. “Potter,” Scrimgeour said, abruptly sounding spent and tired. “It’s not that we haven’t had to deal with accidents like these before—especially when You-Know-Who was around--and Merlin knows what you’ve done for our world; but you must understand that so much more is expected of you.”Harry frowned and straightened. “You have no idea what it’s like trying to rebuild after the Eve War, to try to convince the Wizarding World that we can get back on our feet and move on,” Scrimgeour went on saying. “And I cannot afford for this case to fail. Draco Malfoy is as much a legend now as you are; which is exactly why I originally put you two in charge of this case.” Scrimgeour leaned forward in his chair. “Do you realize that mothers tell their children stories of you and Malfoy before sending them to bed?”“I was unaware,” Harry said dryly and he heard Draco’s voice whisper in his mind again, this time accompanied with soft, mocking laughter. ‘Suck it up, you pansy.’“This all very iconic, Potter, and Malfoy being so exposed and unprotected yesterday is certainly not the goal we are shooting for. We WANT Malfoy to be able to roam freely about because it would be an assurance of this new safety we’re providing as the Ministry of Magic; however, many want him dead. So until you can figure out who and why, Malfoy must remain hidden. Do you understand?”“I do, sir.”“Good.” The Minister leaned back in his chair and rubbed at his temples. “I still need to take disciplinary action, Potter. You realize I cannot just let this go.”“I understand.”“Where is Malfoy?”Harry hesitated before answering. “Headquarters.”Scrimgeour stared at him for a moment before nodding, understanding finally that Harry meant for the Order of the Phoenix. “Brilliant. Will he stay put?”Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek. “I believe so.”“How can you be sure?”Harry didn’t answer immediately. “If I have to tie him down, Malfoy will stay put.”Scrimgeour smiled. “That isn’t exactly the best way to treat a Wizarding hero.”Harry’s eyes turned a flat sort of green. “It is the way you treat me, sir.”To Harry’s surprise, the Minister laughed. “I suppose so. Well, then, a two week suspension for you, Potter, wherein you will not let Malfoy out of your sight. Weasley—“Ron’s head snapped up. “You will report in everyday of Potter’s absence, nine to five, and restrict yourself to your cubicle.”“Yes, sir.”“You will leave Muggle Affairs and Ms. Granger to their business.”Ron made a choked sound but nodded. “Yes, sir.”“And both of you will report to me the second some mad scheme pops into your head so I can Obliviate the bloody hell out of it,” Scrimgeour said, smiling pleasantly. “Now get out of my sight.”Outside the office, Harry tried to stop Ron as he made to push past him. “Ron—““You think its fun, don’t you?” Ron hissed, whirling on him. “Creating fiascoes so that you can play the hero all over again?!”“Ron, that’s not—““We’re PARTNERS, Harry!” Ron bit out. “We do things together! I look like an idiot because you run off to do your one man show and now I can’t even visit my bloody fiancée when it was YOU who fucked up! Blinding sun, Harry! When are you going to get it through your thick head that what you do effects everyone around you and when you’re being terminally selfish like you were yesterday it’s your closest friends who suffer for it?!” Ron took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. “But I guess it doesn’t matter as long as you get what you want, right?”Ron turned on his heel and stomped away, muttering to himself about being ‘Harry Potter’s stupid friend’. Harry watched helplessly as his best mate disappeared down the hall, a heaviness in his stomach that was not-quite-grief, not-quite-anger, and not-quite-guilt. Harry ran a hand through his messy black hair. “Get out of my head, Malfoy,” Harry whispered to himself. His only response was that tingling sensation where his scar used to be. ~~“So, Sirius Black gave this place to Potter?” Draco asked his godfather as they went down the creaking stairs. “Yes,” Snape answered. “It was used as the Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix.”A sunny smile—an expression Snape had no idea his godson was capable of—broke out on Draco’s face and he turned in a circle once they had reached the bottom of the stairs. “Really?” Draco said, the quietness in his belying the expression on his face. “I had wondered…”“Does your scar still hurt?”Draco shook his head and bent to inspect a small, dusty painting on the wall of the main hall. “Not really. A bit of throbbing, no more.”“What does it mean when it only throbs?” Snape inquired from where he remained at the base of the stairs. Draco shrugged nonchalantly and rubbed at his scar, careful not to mess up his diligently kept hair style. “Potter’s the expert, remember? He’s had seventeen years of experience with this damn thing.”Snape rolled his eyes and continued to watch his godson. While Draco Malfoy had always been more comfortable around his godfather, Snape had never seen him act this…ambiguous.Snape had taken care to explain—in great detail—everything he knew about the danger Draco was in after the pain in his godson’s scar had subsided. Draco had listened carefully, his face a placid mask of courtly patience, and when Snape had finished describing the importance of Draco remaining hidden, his godson had laughed softly and walked away from him. They bantered, of course, like they usually did, which Snape would admit was comforting in its own way, but Snape could not dig any answers out of his infuriatingly silver-tongued godson, who would deftly sidestep any direct questions and dance around all other inquiries. Eventually, Snape gave up and took to showing Draco the house, assuming Potter had not the courtesy to already have done so and knowing that Draco may very well be here for a while. That was Snape’s vote, in either case, and he had made it more than vocal during the past hour. Snap was jerked from his thoughts when the front door opened and a blast of cold, spring wind swept through the house. Almost immediately, Harry stepped into the house and closed the door. Harry paused when he looked up and saw both Snape and Draco staring expectantly at him. “Snape,” Harry said with an informal jerk of his chin. “Potter,” Snape answered. Harry turned to Draco, his automatic glare sliding into place. “I’ll be in the study when you’re through.”Draco nodded and both he and his godfather watched silently as Harry made his way up the stairs, the creaking of the floorboards louder in their ears then perhaps it should have been. ~~Draco found Harry in the study standing by the fireplace and staring into the roaring fire within it. The light from the flames flickered across his handsome features and his jet-black hair fell artfully into his eyes, which he raised to meet Draco’s when he heard him come into the room. “So,” Draco began, his gray eyes bright with cynicism. “Am I your prisoner?”Less than amused Harry looked back at the fire. “Do you want the long or the short of it?”Draco put on his best charismatic smile. “The short, please. We all know your stories have a flair for the dramatic.”Harry briefly rolled his eyes skyward and silently prayed for patience to whoever might have the empathy to listen. “There is an underground warrant for your death, Malfoy,” Harry said when he looked back at the fire. “My godfather said as much.”Harry looked over at the Malfoy heir. “So you know it is in your best interest to stay hidden.” “Apparently.”“It is also in your best interest to inform me of anything that may be useful to your case.”Draco smirked. “I’ll be sure to let you know if anything comes to mind.”“Are you taking this seriously, Malfoy?” Harry demanded, scowling for all he was worth. Draco shrugged. “I’m not entirely certain what makes you think I care about what is or is not in my best interest, Potter.”Harry snorted. “You are Slytherin, Malfoy. It’s your nature.”Draco’s eyes darkened with mystery. “If you say so.”“Malfoy, quit trying to confuse me with your riddles. I’m in no mood for it. Do I have your word that you will stay here?”Draco offered a sarcastic smile. “In the Order of the Phoenix’s Headquarters, no less! Such an honor.”“Malfoy,” Harry growled, a warning in his voice. Draco sighed dramatically. “Very well; if I must.”Harry nodded and looked back at the fire. Draco stood there watching Harry watch the fire for a few moments before he crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. “It’s all very touching, really.”“What is?” Harry asked, not bothering to look up. “Your utterly noble concern for my welfare.”It was Harry’s turn to smirk as he turned towards Draco. “You are nothing but a job to me, Malfoy; never forget that.”They stared at one another for many minutes, a tension gathering between them Harry didn’t want to name, before Draco spoke again. “He’ll come around, you know.”Harry blinked. “Who will?”“The Weasel.”Harry came towards Malfoy and stopped directly in front of him, his green eyes bright with the scowl he wanted to show. “Stay out of my head, Malfoy.”Draco’s smile was quiet and his eyes glittered with amusement. “I’m only in there by invitation, Potter.”Harry glared into Draco’s laughing eyes for half a moment before walking past him and disappearing down the hall. Slowly, Draco’s smile faded and his eyes lost their shine. Draco walked quietly over to a chair in front of the fireplace and sat down. He covered his mouth with one hand and thought about the dangerous game he was playing as he stared at the dancing flames. And Draco Malfoy knew he was in way over his head. Yet, when wasn’t he?~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~Bad Faith~“’Bad faith’ (from French, mauvaise foi) is a philosophical concept first coined by existentialist philosopher Jean-Paul Sarte to describe the phenomenon wherein one denies one’s total freedom, instead choosing to behave as an inert object. It is closely related to the concept of self-deception and Friedrich Nietzsche’s concept of ressentiment.”The next day…~~Draco Malfoy found himself wandering the house aimlessly, finding that the old Black residence was a lot larger than it seemed. Harry, of course, knew this and made it his first priority to hide himself within the bowels of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Draco wasn’t even sure where Harry slept. Yesterday, Draco had found a crumpled blanket on a couch in one of the sitting rooms. Today, no trace was forthcoming of Harry’s whereabouts the night before and it was almost as if he had disappeared completely. Draco was almost certain he was still in the house, however, because Hedwig, Harry’s owl, was perched outside on the front porch every time Draco glanced through the window.Draco paused to observe an antique mirror. The two different shapes of the reflective glass were spotted with age and wear and the gilded frame was detailed and rotting. Draco frowned, knowing that, with a little restorative care, this mirror would be quite the expensive piece. Draco fully doubted that Harry knew how much wealth this house held underneath the layers of dust and moth beds. Draco leaned forward and blew gently against the dust covering the reflective glass and stared at his own image as the dust cloud dissipated around him. The despair he had been trying to stuff behind his courtly smiles seemed to instantly resurface the second he looked into his own eyes…His father eyes. Draco often avoided his reflection for this very reason. He had always known, from the second he had decided to rebel against his family creed and become as unlike his father as possible, he would inevitably see Lucius Malfoy every time he passed a reflective window or a dusty, gilded mirror. That the ghost of his father would hover disapprovingly behind his own gray eyes and the sad lines of his mother’s mouth would always be etched behind his smiles. Briefly, Draco closed his eyes and thought of that rainy day his mother was buried in hollowed ground. His father had not even bothered to come and yet Voldemort made a point of making an appearance to remind Draco that the he, The Dark Lord, would always have the upper hand. That he could take anything he wanted from those who followed him and everything else from those who didn’t. And what did Draco Malfoy have? Nothing. Growing up with riches only made it less glamorous, growing accustomed to the finest circles of society only made it less charming, and heaps of gold only proved to burn his eyes with its brightness and cause him to turn away. His friends were loathsome, backstabbing followers of an image he fought to uphold, his relatives expected a creation from him, not a person, and after all of this, Draco Malfoy had become the very thing he’d run from since he turned thirteen, secretly withdrawing from it in his mind until there was nothing left of him but an empty shell. The worst possible kind of faith. A Malfoy through and through.And then Voldemort, the vilest hypocrite to walk this earth, took the only person who saw behind Draco’s mask from him. Of course, Narcissa, his mother, was not exactly the sweetest kind of mother. She was as cruel as they came and supported his father in every endeavor. Narcissa had been silver-tongued and manipulative, using her pale, secret beauty to charm the guileless and cause the strongest men and women to resort to eating out of her hand by the time she was finished with them. Draco smiled and saw his mother’s smile in his reflection.Narcissa Malfoy had been no sugar cookie. Yet, she had loved her son, in her own way. It was betimes cruel and sometimes downright malicious, the way their relationship panned out, but Draco never doubted his mother’s love. Never had a reason to second guess her intentions when it came to him. And Narcissa was never fooled by Draco’s attempts to imitate his father or the downright petty attempts to torment Harry Potter and his friends. Draco watched as the tight lines around his mouth and eyes softened when he thought about Harry-infuriatingly-noble-Potter. Ever since their first year, Draco lied to everyone except himself about the reasons he tormented Harry so. Draco knew that, at the very core, Harry Potter was everything he wanted to—and could never—be. It wasn’t, even in the slightest, that Draco wanted to be the honest, chivalrous, messy-haired hero Harry was naturally born as; it was the freedom Harry had. When Harry Potter was angry, he could be, and he rested safely in the self-righteous knowledge that Harry Potter was Harry Potter and whatever he felt or did or said was whatever Harry Potter felt or did or said. That was freedom as Draco saw it. To be able to live as your own person, outside of the image others set for him, and have friends who knew and understood and was infinitely patient with the true person underneath the hero, behind the mask of The-Boy-Who-Lived. That luxury was never Draco’s to have, and he had always been green with jealousy because of it. So, at every opportunity, Draco would make a point of crawling under Harry’s skin, just to see that fiery, proud, and shaken boy that hid beneath Harry Potter’s noble reputation. It pleased Draco to see the true Harry, even if he had to force it out of him with cruel words and a sarcastic smile.And truly, Harry Potter drove him mad. Harry irritated and angered Draco to no end when he tried to deny the Slytherin in him and very vocally dismiss the Slytherin House as evil, nothing more than a breeding nest for Death Eaters and Dark Wizards. So, when Harry had always lashed back at him at Hogwarts, this anger had boiled up in him and made him a tad crueler than he had originally intended. After all, it was what everyone—Harry Potter included—expected of him, right? To be a relentless, sneaky, evil tormentor of everything pure and righteous, right? Draco snorted and straightened, turning away from the mirror. Severus Snape, his own godfather, didn’t even understand him. Most of the time, Draco Malfoy didn’t even understand himself. He knew, however, that this limbo he found himself in had to be worse than the inner circles of hell. What Harry-oh-so-concerned-Potter didn’t understand was that this warrant, this rally call for Draco’s assassination was not made by a single wizard. Draco had been banished at Narcissa Malfoy’s funeral and while he resided in Britain, whether among Muggles, in a hidden house, or otherwise, his life was forfeit. This was more than a Death Eater’s revenge for Draco’s actions against Voldemort; this was a Pureblood Society’s way of flushing out a Blood Traitor who made his sins more severe by killing Lord Voldemort and actively saving a Half-blood—Harry Potter. Draco’s wandering steps took him back towards the front of the house and he found himself standing in the kitchen. Listening to his empty stomach churn, Draco sighed and went about making lunch with whatever he could find in the sparse kitchen. Three years alone in a hut in the middle-of-nowhere China had taught him a few lessons about fixing decent meals out of nothing for himself.Draco Malfoy frowned, cursing silently, for the thousandth time since yesterday, whatever the hell that had saved him from his own suicidal Killing Curse that night of the Eve Battle. Because he was still alive, and because of whatever stroke of sadistic genius landed Harry Potter the job of protecting him, Draco Malfoy had once again managed to put those he cared about in grave danger.Maybe if he played his hand well, Draco could manage not to cause the death of those dear to him this time. Draco was never all that profound at playing with fire, but maybe being connected Harry Potter through the Horcrux Scar was making him brave. Or maybe it was making him reckless. Time would tell, Draco supposed. ~~Harry, who was found in the study, had his head buried in a mountain of paperwork, scribbling notes madly on to a blank sheet of parchment, his quill bent and as tired as Harry looked. Draco quietly set the plate of food on top of his paperwork, forcing Harry to straighten and look up. Harry had not even heard Draco come in. “What’s this?” Harry asked, eyeing the plate of butter pasta, chicken, and peas. Draco raised a bemused brow. “Most cultures call it food.”Harry stared incredulously at Draco, tossing his head to the side to dispel a stray lock of jet-black hair from his eyes. “I didn’t know you could cook.”Draco frowned and bent to take the plate away. “No!” Harry said immediately, grabbing the plate covetously. “I didn’t mean…well…What’s in it?”“Arsenic,” Draco replied, stone-faced. Harry looked back at his food, his face saying he had half a mind to believe him. Draco sighed and, with a roll of his eyes, grabbed the plate; but Harry still had a firm hold on it and they locked eyes. “I was joking, you dolt,” Draco hissed. “Tell me, why would I kill you know?”Harry looked back at the plate and laughed out loud when his stomach grumbled noisily, the tension between them dissipating in a flash. “Alright, I’ll eat it.”Draco strolled over to a bookshelf and selected a book. Opening it to the first page, Draco found a chair near the fireplace, sat down, and began to read. When he was sure Harry wasn’t looking, Draco lifted his gray eyes over the rim of the book and watched Harry eat, a secret smile curving his lips. Harry was reading a document lifted up with one hand and shoveling food into his mouth with the other, tossing his head every now and again to get a stray tendril of hair out of his green eyes. His mouth glistened with butter from the pasta and Draco found himself mesmerized by it, watching carefully as Harry deftly used his tongue to pull in stray strands of noodle into his mouth. Harry glanced over at Draco when he was finished, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, and their eyes met. Harry seemed frozen as he tried to read the hungry look in Draco’s cold, gray eyes. Finally, Harry shook himself and managed a glare. “Why are you staring at me?’Draco shrugged and looked back at his book. “A cook is always pleased to see his creation his appreciated.”Harry gaped at him, trying to fathom what Draco could possibly mean by that. “Have you gone completely mental, Malfoy?”“Pardon?”“One minute, you’re the Slytherin prick you always were and, the next, I don’t recognize you at all. I mean, what’s with making me lunch?”“Which do you prefer?” Draco asked, turning the page. “And you were hungry.”“Damn it, Malfoy, look at me,” Harry said heatedly, annoyed that Draco was pretending to read. “I thought you didn’t want me to,” Draco said, lifting his eyes once again. For an instant, Draco thought he saw a shadow of his mother’s cruelty looking back at him through Harry brilliant green eyes and Draco shut his eyes against it. When he re-opened them, it was gone as quickly as it came and there was nothing but Potter’s own cruelty staring back at him. Slowly, the intensity faded from Harry’s emerald orbs. “I don’t know what I want from you,” Harry said finally. “But you want something,” Draco said, lowering the book and closing it. “Answers, perhaps?”Something shifted in Harry’s demeanor and Draco knew he was holding back. “I suppose I could rightfully assume you have quite the torrent of questions swimming around in that head of yours,” Draco continued, the intensity in his gray eyes flaring. Harry nodded. “You’ll tell me what I need to know when you’re ready.”“That’s awfully compassionate of you.”“Doesn’t happen often in your world, does it?” “I don’t have a world, Potter,” Draco answered softly. “That’s what is wrong with me.”Harry did not know what to say to that so he continued to look back at Draco and tried to understand the young man in his study compared to the boy from Hogwarts. “Did you enjoy your pasta?” Draco asked finally with a secret smile. “I did.”“Good,” Draco said, standing to his feet, “because that’s the last of it. We need a House Elf, Potter. I’m not going to cook for you every day and this place is filthy.”Harry mock-glared at Draco and was surprised when Draco flashed a brilliant smile in return before leaving the study, his book in hand. Harry stared at the door Draco just vacated and thought that, perhaps, these next few weeks might just be bearable. ~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~A Blood Truth~verum ipsum factum—“truth itself is constructed”The next day…~~Slightly, the House Elf that Harry Potter had managed to retrieve from the Malfoy Manor the night before with a letter of confirmation handwritten by Draco, popped into Draco’s bedroom with a resounding crack. Draco, who was lying in his bed, reading a book of poems, as he did more often than anything else here at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, looked over the rim of his book with an eyebrow raised. “Master,” Slightly squeaked nervously, wringing her thin hands, “Slightly is here to tell you that a visitor is downstairs, sir. Does Master wish Slightly to send him off?”“Him?”“Yes, Master; him.”His interest piqued, Draco set his book down and stood up. “No, Slightly. I’ll be down straight away.”“Very good, sir,” Slightly answered and disappeared with another crack. Knowing that Harry would probably have another row with him for greeting the man without his permission, Draco figured since the man knew how to come into the old house—as it was hidden from anyone who wasn’t, at some point, invited--the threat was minimal at best. Besides, instigating an argument with Harry Potter was fast becoming the highlight of his days while he was cooped up in this old, rickety house. Slightly was insistently stubborn about only answering to Draco, as she knew him as her master since he was an infant; and no one, house elves included, who lived in Malfoy Manor trusted Harry Potter. Unless, of course, they were forced to, as Draco found he was. Thus, Draco knew Harry was oblivious to the presence of the newcomer and as he quietly went down the stairs and turned the corner, he was surprised to find that he was faintly disappointed to see Ron Weasley standing in the drawing room. Draco couldn’t put a reason behind his disappointment. Maybe is was because it would have been a tad more exhilarating to Draco’s otherwise most obvious masochistic personality if it had been someone he didn’t recognize and immediately know there would be no misadventure today. Or maybe it was because Weasley was Harry’s best mate, and Draco knew he would have to stand by at watch that true Harry interact with his most trusted friend from afar—as he had always done—and know that it would never be that easy for him to get Harry that open. Of course, Draco didn’t want to think about that, or where that line of thought might lead. Four years ago, Draco Malfoy had given up any thought of Harry to overtly incredulous fascination with the enigma that was The Boy Who Lived. Yet, it was so much more effortless to dispel thoughts and daydreams of Harry Potter when he was locked up in a hut in the middle of Asia with a brick bag of other things to fill up his mind with. Now, Draco couldn’t get that man out of his head. Draco was realizing that he could feel his feelings, dream his dreams, and would be thrown into the most sour of moods anytime Harry was, no matter where the noble prick was. And, of course, there was the ever present tension between them. Draco knew he felt it too and knew that was what caused each other to remain on opposite sides of the house whenever possible, afraid of what that tension could possibly mean. Ron turned when Draco cleared his throat and the red-haired Auror managed a strangled smile. “Oi, Malfoy,” Ron said, regaining a little composure. “Harry here?”Draco chewed on the inside of his cheek, wanted to say something civil, but the words wouldn’t formulate in his head. “He’s upstairs,” Draco murmured finally. “I’ll get him for you.” “Thank you,” Ron said, looking strangely at the Malfoy heir. “Malfoy?” Ron called out before Draco disappeared down the hall. Draco turned back to the young Auror. “Yes?”“Do you think he’s vexed at me?”A smile hovered around Draco’s lips for the barest of moments before he caught himself and pressed his lips into a straight line, denying the smile to take shape. “I would never call myself an expert on all things Potter and his emotions,” Draco said dully before allowing his voice to lighten a little. “But if I had to guess, I’d say no.”A relieved smile broke across Ron’s face like sunlight through a storm and Draco nearly gagged. Draco turned back into the hall and made his way up the stairs. Slipping into the study unnoticed, Draco spotted Harry coming down the ladder that lay against a tall bookshelf, his face screwed up in concentration as he read a vellum scroll older than the two of them combined. Draco snuck up behind him and plucked the scroll from Harry’s hands. “Hey—Malfoy, have you gone mad?” Harry asked, lunging for the parchment. “Careful with that!”Lifting it above his head and steadily backing out of Harry’s reach, Draco tried to read the small scrawl across the old paper. “Genealogies?” Draco said with a laugh. “What on Earth are you doing in here, Potter?”Harry scowled and lunged again. “Give it here, Malfoy!”Draco suddenly backed into Harry’s desk exactly when Harry made another lung for the scroll and ended up pinned between the desk and Harry’s body. They froze; Draco’s arm still holding the parchment above his head and Harry practically hanging off of Draco like a suit jacket. Draco looked up at Harry, surprised to note that Harry was actually taller than him, and became mesmerized by the shaken, deer in headlights look Harry was favoring him with. Harry blinked and tried to will his limbs to get the hell off of Draco, but they wouldn’t listen. Harry could feel the heave and fall of Draco’s chest and the heat emanating from his body. Harry hadn’t even realized he was cold. Draco tried to shift but only managed to press his leg between Harry’s, earning an eloquent, “Fuck”, from his Hogwarts rival, and he froze again, suddenly sick with the fact that he had no plan of action for this particular scenario. The blood quickened in Draco’s veins and his heart beat faster and when he was quite certain he was going to act rashly and completely regret it later, he spoke. “The Weasel’s in the drawing room.”Harry sucked in a breath, the spell surrounding them suddenly shattered. “Wha-what?”“Ron Weasley,” Draco said, trying, but failing, to keep the tremor out of his voice, “is downstairs waiting for you.”Harry immediately pushed off of Draco and backed away. They stared at one another for almost a minute, no words forthcoming, until Harry ran a hand through his hair and all but bolted from the room. When he could breathe again, Draco looked down at the tent in his pants and scowled. “Of all the fucking people on this godforsaken planet…”~~A somewhat flustered and distracted Harry, with his robes wrapped strangely around him, met Ron in the drawing room. “Ron, what are you doing here?” Ron’s cheerful greeting died on his lips. “Well,” Ron said, nervous again. “’Mione’s working late so I figured I’d stop by and see how things are going at the old HQ, mate.”Harry frowned. “You could have owled first.” Ron drew his brows together. “Malfoy’s a right git, you know that?” Ron muttered. “Telling me you weren’t still vexed and all.” Harry’s eyes darkened murderously. “He came down to see you without telling me first?”Ron laughed nervously. “I suppose so. Are you cold?”“What? No. Why?”Ron pointed at Harry, raising a brow at how he was huddled in his robes. Harry shook his head. “Trust me on this one, Ron. You don’t want to know.”Bewildered, Ron shrugged. “Right, then. How unbearable is he?”“Malfoy?”“Who else?”Harry let loose a short, awkward bark of laughter. “That bad, huh?” “Worse.”Ron fiddled with the hem of his robe. “Well, do you need anything?”Harry regarded him strangely. “No. I got Malfoy one of his house elves yesterday. She’s no Kreacher, but she’s still pretty stubborn. It’s brilliant, though; we won’t have to worry about food or sneezing up dust for a while.”“Hermione would have a fit,” Ron said with a smile. Harry grinned, suddenly feeling better. “You tell her, mate, and I’ll skin you alive.”~~Draco finished skimming the parchment he’d stolen from Harry minutes before and set it down for a small journal Harry was writing notes in. He pursed his lips and held a lit candle closer to make out Harry’s small writing. ‘Found further evidence on breaks in the pureblood lines; facts overlooked probably because of societal status. The Parkinson’s had mentioned certain gravity towards Blood Traitors. Note to research usual punishments for such “crimes”.’ More notes told of Harry’s endless attempts at retracing Draco’s own footsteps regarding bloodlines and Draco briefly read them through before turning to the paragraph concerning the Parkinson’s. Draco knew Harry was no idiot, even if he had struggled with a few subjects at Hogwarts, and was not surprised that Harry would devote so much energy to this particular line of research to unravel the key to Draco’s death warrant. If Harry only knew how close he was, he would have probably voided Draco’s case by know. Really, all this was futile in the end. However, what made Draco’s blood boil was his suspicion that Harry may be endangering the Parkinson’s with his research on Draco’s behalf. Faintly, Draco registered the sound of the front door opening and closing and Draco hurried to find more notes about the Parkinson family. Soon, he stumbled on a passage in the journal depicting a certain visit he had made to the Parkinson Manor, with specific questions about Narcissa Malfoy’s funeral and Draco’s actions there within. Draco snapped the journal shut and raised stormy gray eyes to meet Harry’s agitated green ones when the young Auror walked back into the study. “I know you’re not stupid, Malfoy,” Harry bit out immediately. “Why do you insist on proving me wrong by meeting a stranger at the door? Do you want to die?”“Stay away from the Parkinson’s,” Draco said in a low, dangerous voice. “Excuse me?”“Stay away from the Parkinson’s,” Draco repeated. “You’ll only make it worse for them if you drag them into this.”“I didn’t drag them into anything,” Harry snapped irritably. “They’re repaying a debt.”“I said no, Potter,” Draco growled. “Don’t you fucking start, you goddamn prick,” Harry said heatedly. “You were shacked up in Wisconsin, sucking on your thumb and trying to remember your name when I was out here trying to figure out some truth about purebloods and how you could possibly rub them the wrong way. It’s not as fucking easy as it looks—““You want to know some truth about purebloods, Potter?” Draco asked quietly, suddenly stalking towards Harry with quick strides. Harry barely had time to blink before Draco reeled back his arm and slammed his fist into Harry’s jaw. Harry’s head snapped back and immediately his magic charged up around him. Harry automatically reacted by burying his fist into Draco’s gut. Draco grunted and jabbed his elbow into Harry’s face. With a shout, Harry swung hard; trying to land a punch to the side of Draco’s face, but Draco grabbed the flying wrist and stepped inside the swing, pressing his lips against Harry’s. Harry’s eyes grew wide as saucers as Draco moved his mouth over his bleeding lips and when Harry began to relax against the kiss, Draco bit down on Harry’s lower lip and forced his tongue into Harry’s warm mouth. Harry immediately pushed his tongue against Draco’s, no stranger to the old song and dance, as their tongues dueled for the upper hand. Finally, a low groan escaping from Draco’s throat, and he tipped his head back as Harry grabbed his shirt and held on as he began to dominate the kiss. Suddenly, Draco’s tongue stepped outside the dance, sought, and found the cut his fist had caused on Harry’s lower lip. Caressing it lovingly with his tongue, Draco tasted the sweet tang of Harry’s blood before roughly sinking his teeth into it. Harry gasped and Draco pulled back, pressing his lips to the small cut once more before moving away. Draco stared into Harry’s eyes as he slowly released his wrist. In answer, Harry released his death grip on Draco’s shirt. A little off balance, Draco stumbled back, his eyes never leaving Harry’s. Harry watched, breathing heavily, as Draco raised his fingers to his lips and wiped off the blood that remained there. Draco gazed at his red tinted fingertips for a moment before raising his stormy eyes back up to meet Harry’s. “Our blood tastes exactly the same,” Draco whispered. “It looks the same, runs just as thickly, colors dirt the very same way, and even smells the same.”Draco paused, watching Harry digest this information. “That is the truth about purebloods.”Minutes passed before either of them said anything. “You could have told me that without kissing me,” Harry said finally. Draco offered the cruelest smile he could muster. “But then you would have never known how much you enjoyed kissing me back.” Draco moved past him towards the door. “And that may be a Harry Potter truth,” Draco said before leaving the study. Harry stood in the middle of the room, stunned out of his mind, and raised his fingers to his mouth, gathering a few droplets of blood. Harry rubbed the blood between his fingers thoughtfully before he had an overwhelming urge to laugh. Instead, he managed a quiet, maniacal chuckle. “Fuck me,” Harry whispered. Draco Malfoy was right. He did enjoy kissing him back. A blood truth, indeed. ~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~How You Remind Me~Part I"Never made it as a wise man......Couldn't cut it as a poor man stealin'......Tired of living like a blind man... ...Sick of silence without a sense of feeling......And this is how you remind me......This is how you remind me..." ~NicklebackThe next morning...~~"Has he eaten?" Draco asked Slightly, sipping thoughtfully on a cup of tea. Slightly shifted nervously and Draco shifted his overbearing gaze to rest directly on her. "Well?""Slightly wanted to make sure Master had some breakfast," Slightly squeaked, wringing her hands. "You have yet to offer him breakfast?""Master, Slightly thought--"Draco cut her off with a flick of his wrist. "I should flog you, Slightly," Draco said quietly, his heart not really in the words he was choosing. "Potter is the Master of this house and we are but guests. Do you understand?""Slightly understands, sir," Slightly murmured, hanging her head, her large pointed ears drooping. "You will offer him meals first, is that clear?""But sir--""Slightly!""Slightly understands, sir," Slightly said, her large luminous eyes filling with tears. "Slightly will do what Master commands. Slightly is sorry for vexing Master."Draco looked back at his tea. "That'll do, Slightly.""Slightly thanks Master," Slightly whispered before disappearing with a pop and leaving behind a trail of dusty magic. Minutes later, Slightly returned, once again looking like she was on the verge of tears. Draco, who had not moved, finished his tea before turning to the worried house elf. "What is it, Slightly?""Slightly asks Harry Potter if he would like breakfast like Master said," Slightly squeaked shrilly. "But Harry Potter does not want breakfast from Slightly! Harry Potter tells Slightly he is not hungry, sir!" Draco heaved a sigh. "Slightly, bring a fruit bowl and some biscuits to wherever he is--""The study, sir.""Thank you; and a pot of tea," Draco finished, throwing on his robes. "I'll be in there shortly.""Yes, sir." With a pop, Slightly disappeared, eager to do her Master's bidding. Tiredly, Draco made his way down the hall towards the study. He had not slept more than few hours combined and when he did sleep; his dreams were filled with strange images he did not recognize. So troubled by his sleep and agitated by his wakeful thoughts, rest seemed a foreign thing to the Malfoy heir. He suspected that the little incident the night before had been a bit brash on his part and alienated Harry even more. This, of course, was what he had been trying to avoid. He wanted...well, Draco wasn't sure he knew what he wanted but he did know he didn't want this; the ever present, oppressive and heavy tension. It was sticky and unnatural, but the strangeness of it all was, regardless of how angry or upset Draco made Harry, if they were in the same room, his scar did not hurt at all. The tension he felt in his lungs, making it hard to breathe, while his scar seemed to be satisfied with it.Draco had no clue why he kissed Harry bloody Potter. Harry was right; Draco could have explained his point perfectly well without kissing him. But he wanted to. And so he did. A part, Draco thought, was that homosexuality was fiercely frowned upon in pureblood Wizarding circles, specifically because there was still no magic that would allow same sex partners to reproduce solely of themselves and adding a third party put the baby at too much risk to be a half-blood. Of course, it was not uncommon for married aristocrats to take lovers, no matter their gender, and a blind eye was turned to it as happened often when purebloods decided to indulge their senses. However, as a primary relationship, homosexuality was considered as disgraceful as being a Muggle-loving Blood-Traitor. This was exactly why Draco leaned towards it. If there was anything that pleased Draco more than having a row with Harry Potter, it was finding a new way to piss off the pureblood circles who had tried to mold him into a hateful little copy of his father, Lucius Malfoy. Technically, since Pansy Parkinson, Draco had not been romantically involved with anyone...ever. And, perhaps, Pansy didn't even count because while Draco held a large amount of affection for her, their relationship and engagement had been arranged at their infancy. Pansy had never had a problem with accepting things as they were and threw her whole heart into their engagement, but Draco, being what he was, managed to shred her heart into pieces before he even left Hogwarts by being increasingly shallow and cold towards her. Draco wasn't sure what it felt like to be emotionally attached to someone, unclear if he had felt that way about anyone in his life, the way Pansy had felt for him. And while Draco was an adventurous flirt, he never made emotions and sex a priority in his life, contrary to outside suspicion. Harry, on the other hand, was the embodiment of everything forbidden to him. It was a lovely little cherry on top that Harry was assigned to protect him and had to remain in the house with him for another week and a half or so. And, really, there was nothing else to do but torment The Boy Who Always Fucking Lives. What shook Draco, however, was that Harry Potter actually kissed him back. He hadn't expected that. Draco had fully expected to be thrown off and hexed until his insides turned blue. But Harry had not only kissed him back, but he had taken over the kiss completely until Draco bit him. What that meant almost frightened him. Not because it would throw Draco flirting with The Boy Who Lived into a completely different ball park, but because Draco knew that no one scares Harry Potter like Harry Potter scares himself. And what could Harry possibly be telling himself for kissing Draco Malfoy, of all people on this planet, when just the mere sight of one another had been enough to turn each other's stomach, once upon a time? Draco paused outside the study and took a deep breath. ~~"No, really, I'm not hungry," Harry tried to tell Slightly as she stood atop his paperwork, trying to hand him a large bowl of fruit. "But Master insisted Slightly bring you breakfast!" Slightly squeaked as frustrated tears ran down her face. "Yes, that's very...kind of him," Harry said, stumbling over the word in reference to Malfoy. "And, really, thank you, but...no.""But Master insisted!" Slightly squeaked, stomping her foot and shoving the bowl back into Harry's face. "Slightly, that's quite enough," Draco said, leaning on the door frame with a bemused expression on his face. "Just leave it on the table."Slightly immediately scrambled to comply and Harry turned to look at Draco. Something awful passed behind Harry's beryl eyes but it vanished before Draco could name it. "Good morning," Harry said, his voice flat and emotionless. "Is it?" Draco said with a sarcastic smile.Harry shrugged and looked back at his paperwork, resting the tips of his fingers flat against one particular scroll. "I'm filing a transfer today.""What?" Draco snapped, his eyes suddenly going wide and his casual demeanor slipping. "Why?"Harry swallowed and refused to look up. "Last night, I acted unprofessionally. There are well-equipped Aurors who can handle your case better than I.""You must be joking," Draco said, incredulous. "You’re going to run away? I thought heroes never ran away.""I'm no hero," Harry answered, his voice quiet. "I can survive against incredible odds, but that doesn't make me a hero. You need someone who will handle your case responsibly.""I'm not interested in having my case transferred, you coward," Draco hissed, suddenly angry. "It shouldn't matter what goes on here, Potter. It's only you and I.""What do you want from me?""Really?""Yes, really.""I want you to stop holding me in the past."Harry finally looked up at Draco, the vulnerability in his green eyes almost too much for Draco to bear. "When you stop holding me in the past," Draco continued, "things like last night won't seem so terrible. You and I both know this has nothing to do with me being your 'case'.""I can't--"“You can’t, what?” Draco interrupted, clenching his fists. “Snog your old school rival? Get too close? Have a little goddamn fun? Let yourself believe I may not be as terrible as you once thought? What, Potter? I really want to understand this one, mate, because, frankly, I’m not the only enigma here!”Harry pressed his lips into a thin line and did not answer. He watched Draco fume silently; his gray eyes blazing, his casual grace rigid and uninhibited, and he wanted to shout. Shout what, Harry didn’t know. It’s been days since he brought Draco here but not that many. Under a week, and he had managed to create yet another mess with Draco. Briefly, Harry thought of Cruent and a vortex of buried emotion began to spin beneath the surface. With Cruent, Harry knew he wasn’t understood. In all honesty, Cruent was just a regular fuck; it was just unfortunate that Cruent brought his feelings into the mix. People looked at Harry and they saw this…this icon. Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, even without the lightening bolt scar, Harry had to hide beneath piles of paperwork and odd jobs as an Auror to be able to keep his life relatively quiet. Harry had become resigned to the fact that when people looked at him, they would always stare, they would always assume, and they would never, ever see him as the person behind the celebrity. The mad thing was, Draco Malfoy NEVER did that. Not once in the entire time he’d known Draco had he ever treated him like glass or stared at him in awe. In fact, Draco had made it a priority to remind him—and everyone within earshot—that Harry Potter was just a scared, lonely boy underneath the fame of a lightening bolt scar. Once, Harry had hated him for this; now, he was second guessing himself. It was too much to take in and the night before certainly didn’t help. Trick was, Harry couldn’t stop thinking about it. And that definitely made doing his job less than simple. But, really, when was anything simple when it concerned Draco Malfoy? The more Harry tried to figure him out, the more confused he became. Suddenly, Draco surged forward and violently shoved the bowl of fruit off the table. Immediately, Harry was on his feet, hands clenched at his sides, determined not to be sucker punched into another snog session with the Malfoy heir. Slightly stumbled around their feet, trying to get the mess cleaned up as quickly as possible so she could make a hasty retreat. “Slightly,” Draco growled. “Leave it.”Slightly immediately dropped the bits of pineapple she had gathered and disappeared with a loud pop. “What’s the matter, Malfoy?” Harry murmured. “Don’t like being ignored?”“Of course not,” Draco bit out. “That’s not so unnatural, is it? Though, I must say, it’s not nearly as bad as being abandoned. You must know all about that, wouldn’t you, Potter?”“Shut up, Malfoy.”“First your parents—““Malfoy, you have no right—““And then Cho and Sirius—““I’m warning you—““And of course, Dumbledore, who knew the exact hour of his death but never bothered to let you in on the little secret.”“Stop—““And whatever happened to Ginevra Wea—“Harry’s fist plowed into Draco’s face so hard, he was knocked to the ground. Staring up at Harry from the floor, Draco wiped the blood from his mouth and smiled. “Yes, you know all about being abandoned, don’t you?”“This is why I can’t do your case anymore, Malfoy!” Harry all but shouted. “Look at us! It’s like Hogwarts all over again!”Draco slowly got his feet, tenderly probing the gash on the inner side of his lip with his tongue. “Yes, it is. Your problem is that you’re liking it too much.”Harry clutched at his hair. “Malfoy—““Admit it, Potter,” Draco sneered. “For some reason or another, you wanted to be here because you knew it would spice up the otherwise dull life you’ve created for yourself. That you knew I wouldn’t treat you like you were made of glass.”“Malfoy—““And you are STILL denying the Slytherin in you!” Draco clasped his hands in front of him and batted his lashes. “Oh, please, Sorting Hat,” Draco mocked, “not Slytherin. Oh, please not Slytherin!”“Well, it did wonders for you, didn’t it?” Harry shot back. Draco snorted. “Right.”“Really,” Harry said, the cruelty at his core bubbling up. “You got yourself landed in a House that celebrated a false purity, you surrounded yourself with people who claimed to be your friends but weren’t, you managed to get the Dark Mark slapped on your arm—““Potter,” Draco warned.“AND you managed to get your mother killed, cause the murder of Albus Dumbledore, get exiled, and get YOURSELF cursed into the next life on some fool’s mission to try to be like me!” Harry finished with a shout, his voice suddenly raw. Draco’s eyes went emotionless and he reached for his wand. Before he could have out with it, Harry had the tip of his pressed against Draco’s throat. “Go ahead,” Harry said quietly. “Give me a reason to hex you. I really could do without the aggravation.”Draco hung his hands limply by his sides. “I guess that’s it then,” Draco murmured. “Harry Potter, mad with envy because Draco Malfoy got to kill Voldemort. I wonder how that would look in the Daily Prophet?”Harry drew his brows together in a severe frown. “I didn’t mean—““But it’s the truth, isn’t it?” Malfoy whispered. “Just like, for the briefest of moments, when the Dark Lord marked me, I felt powerful. I, Draco Malfoy, was the youngest Death Eater of my age. I was almost proud to have been so trusted with the assassination of the mighty Albus Dumbledore. It means we’re human, you and I.” “Voldemort’s death was owed me,” Harry suddenly hissed. A manic glint suddenly exploded behind Draco’s gray eyes. “And he’s dead!” Draco shrieked. “Isn’t he! And instead of being grateful to me for saving your arse, you want to send me off to some other Auror like a pair of used trainers! You owe me a life debt, Potter! A life debt!”Harry nodded and looked away. Slowly, Harry lowered his wand and set it aside. “I’m sorry, Malfoy; but I can’t let this continue.”Draco tiredly ran a hand through his hair, suddenly looking spent and vulnerable. “Fine; I’ll just…you know…” Draco turned and left the study. Harry bit his lip, his heart screaming to go after him and say…something, and his mind sternly telling him to leave it be. After all, it was just Malfoy. Right?Harry clenched and unclenched his fingers before suddenly springing into action. Walking quickly, Harry stepped out into the hall and stopped short when he saw Draco leaning heavily against one wall, his shoulders quivering and his back facing Harry. Harry reached out a hand. “Malfoy?”“Don’t,” Draco bit out, his voice cracking.Harry touched Draco’s sleeve and Draco shoved him off. “Potter, really, don’t you think we’ve said enough?” Draco whispered and when he looked up, Harry saw the most unnatural thing in this world. Silent tears streamed down Draco’s pale face and he looked so wretched Harry’s heart felt like it was going to shatter. “I’m sorry,” Draco continued and his voice sounded like it was holding back a torrent of emotion. “For Dumbledore. Really, I am.” “For fixing the closet in the Room of Requirement?”Draco laughed through his quiet tears and the despair that reflected in them. “No…that he had to die at all.”Harry tried to step forward, hand stretching forward, but Draco pushed himself off the wall and backed away. “I managed to destroy the one man who would have been powerful enough to save my mother.”Harry had not actually thought of it like that, and the revelation that this was how Draco felt came crashing down around him. “I could have used the Time-Turner,” Draco continued softly, the tears falling faster and his voice becoming strained. “But Dumbledore said there was a price to be paid. There’s always a price for a lesson learned. I never asked him to save my mother; and he may have, if I had. But I didn’t.”Draco smiled his cruel smile. “I understood. A price had to be paid. Narcissa Malfoy, a martyr to my soul. And me,” Draco raised his dull eyes to Harry’s. “To yours.”Harry shook his head slightly. “I don’t understand.”“Dumbledore explained the Horcruxes to me and I unraveled the riddle concerning you. I knew a price had to be paid for the demise of Voldemort. I couldn’t let it be you.”“Why?” Harry breathed. “Merlin save me, why?”“Because you’re right,” Draco said with a little half-smile. “No one would have missed me.”“I didn’t mean…”“Don’t lie to me,” Draco admonished softly. “Yes, you did. And everyone would have missed you. You were brave and true and victimized…it was better this way.” Draco suddenly buried his face in his hands. “I’m not supposed to be alive, Potter. Do you understand? I’m not supposed to be here! What the hell am I supposed to do or think? You tell me, Potter, what I am supposed to feel!”Harry felt lost. “I don’t know, Malfoy; I just—““Don’t,” Draco said again. “Just…don’t. Do us a favor, will you, Potter?” Draco murmured, backing further down the hall. Harry raised his chin, his eyes trying to see him through the shadows. “Disappear,” Draco said as he vanished among the darkness of the hall. You are a right prick, Harry told himself, wondering if it was possible to feel any more wretched. ~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~How You Remind Me~Part II“…You beg Him not to go……Old Volumes shake their Vellum Heads……And Tantalize—just so…” ~Emily DickinsonAn hour later…~~Harry stared at the Case Transfer scroll, the document only needing his signature to become official, his eyes not really seeing the letters written across the page. Instead, his mind’s eye was focused on the memory of a weeping Draco Malfoy. Harry had only seen him that way once before; at Hogwarts with Moaning Myrtle, the night he tried to cut out the Dark Mark from his arm. Harry briefly thought about the memory he had discovered in Draco’s Pensive that showed the night Draco had been locked up in a stone room, awaiting his father and Voldemort to remark him in a place he could not reach. Harry closed his eyes and realized that after all this time; Draco Malfoy had been just as scared, lonely, and lost as he had been during their years at Hogwarts. The Gryffindor in him raged at the injustice of it all and took pity on the Malfoy heir. Pity was a strange thing and Harry wanted to discard it for a new feeling. Harry knew Draco would not look kindly at being pitied. Of the two of them, Draco had attempted to make the very best of their time here at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, in his own way, and Harry acknowledged that now. Draco had left him be, except the few times Draco had insisted on forcing Harry to eat or to inform him that Ron was at the door. And when they were in the same room, Draco had been everything Harry knew him to be, snobby, sarcastic, and betimes downright cruel…and Harry wondered if it was all forced for Harry’s sake. The Draco he saw an hour ago was not the boy he had known at Hogwarts. This was the Draco Harry had caught glimpses of in his Pensieve, in hidden memories and secret conversations with their deceased Headmaster. And, of course, there was the vulnerable, confused man Harry had taken to St. Mary’s—the Draco before the conditioning. It was strange that Draco rarely mentioned St. Mary’s and, if at all, it centered around Harry’s grand fuck up to celebrate the cruel Malfoy Harry expected of him. This, of course, only reinforced Harry’s belief that Draco was trying to be his old self for Harry so he didn’t….didn’t what?Harry shook his head. Maybe it was smart of him because Harry was unsure of what he would do or say if Draco became completely uninhibited around him and allowed Harry to see the vulnerable, altogether different Draco underneath. Or maybe he wasn’t all that different. Maybe Draco was just a little more humane that Harry had always thought. Maybe he is always going to be the Draco Malfoy Harry had always known him as, but his opinion of the Malfoy heir became skewed because, lo, Draco Malfoy isn’t the evil prick that his preceding reputation dictated him as. And what would that mean? It would definitely make him tolerable. Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek and sat back in the chair, resting his hands behind his head. No, not pity. Malfoy made his choices and so did Harry Potter. Harry had made his fair share of stupid decisions in his time and Draco didn’t pity him for the repercussions. Harry thought of the way Draco’s blond hair would fall into his laughing gray eyes and how his soft, cruel lips would curve into this all-knowing smile every time he looked Harry’s way and Harry suddenly found it hard to breathe. Harry hid himself away from the Malfoy heir because no one could make his blood feel like fire like Draco could. Harry had forgotten how that felt, to feel alive. And it was impossible to not want to start a row with Draco Malfoy, not because he could be a downright insufferable prick, but because of the challenge. Pride was a common denominator between the two of them, and Harry knew it. However, Harry had very little to be proud for in a very long time. A single word from Draco, and Harry was fired up, defensive, and ready to protect whatever Draco had a mind to take a stab at. And Harry would be a liar if he claimed it didn’t feel perfect and right and good when he let go and kissed Draco Malfoy back. It felt like a release of something, an understanding passing between the two of them, and it scared Harry senseless. Harry couldn’t treat Draco like Cruent; he couldn’t get involved in another shallow relationship for three very good reasons. One, it had taken Harry way too long to deal with the guilt of hurting Cruent like he had. There is no payoff for Harry in breaking someone’s heart; he just didn’t want the broken heart to be his. After Ginny, Harry just couldn’t take it anymore. Those who didn’t leave him by dying left him because they didn’t want him anymore. And that hurt Harry more than anything else he could think of. The people who saw past the celebrity usually didn’t like what they saw. Two, Harry wasn’t all that certain Malfoy was sane. Both his parents were dead, but Draco only ever mentions his mother, acting as if Lucius never existed. Draco wouldn’t encourage conversation about what happened inside St. Mary’s. The Malfoy heir rarely commented about his own past except during the few arguments they shared and the only time he became angry was when his mother, Voldemort, or Pansy Parkinson was mentioned. Third, really, it was Draco Malfoy. Harry wasn’t even certain he was gay, let alone the fact that Harry was still coming to terms that Draco Malfoy wasn’t actually hate-worthy. Sure, he was gorgeous and suave and everything that made Harry’s blood quicken, but…in another time and place…A small voice nudged its way into Harry’s train of thought and whispered that this might just be that ‘other time and place’. Harry shook his head, dispelling the idea. Harry wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he added himself to the list of troubles Draco had to deal with right now. Or, could he? Harry shook his head again. And while Cruent and he had been a casual thing, Cruent had been nothing like Harry. The more Harry thought about it, the more he realized he had in common with the Malfoy heir. And, of course, there was that bloody scar and its unclear magical connection to tend with. Harry squeezed his eyes shut as his thoughts began to lose clarity and became more obscure and scrambled, bartering with one another for the upper hand. When he opened them, Harry gazed down and focused on the Transfer Case scroll, picking up an ink quill and setting it to the scroll. Harry bit his lip and second guessed himself for the thousandth time in an hour. Would it really be better if they weren’t so near one another? Would it really better if Malfoy’s case was handled by another team of Aurors?Was Harry really just being a coward?Harry scowled and began to ink his name into the magical document. With a sigh, Harry threw down the quill half way through his first name and ripped the document to pieces. It may be a very bad idea to continue this living agreement, but Harry Potter was no coward. And Draco was right; Harry owed him a life debt. He would not be Gryffindor if he backed out now. Suddenly feeling relieved, Harry smiled a little to himself, a smile that didn’t quite reach his tired, green eyes, and rested his chin in his hands, staring across the study and into the fire. Harry’s arm suddenly began to burn and his forehead began to tingle. Harry gasped and clutched at his arm, trying to rub the irritation away. Abruptly, Harry felt nauseous and weak, the energy draining from him inexplicably. And then, as he somehow lost the ability to move his wrist, Slightly popped into the room, her eyes wide and shining with her tears. “Mr. Harry Potter, sir!” Slightly sobbed and hiccupped. “Harry Potter must come quickly! Master needs you!”Harry instantly jumped to his feet, swaying slightly with his dizziness. “What’s wrong?”“Master needs Harry Potter!” Slightly shrieked. “Master told Slightly not to come but Slightly disobeyed! Master is hurt!”“Hurt?!” Harry said, running out into the hall and rushing towards Draco’s room. Slightly followed closely behind, wailing her grief. Harry skidded to a halt in front of Draco’s room and barged in. Seeing no one, Harry stepped in, trying to blink away his dizziness and shake off the sudden heavy feeling in his limbs. Harry turned towards the bathroom and his heart stopped when he saw thick red blood oozing in from under the bathroom door. “Fuck,” Harry muttered as he stumbled forward and threw open the door. Draco lay across the bathroom floor, staring glassy eyed at a tiled wall, his left arm a bloody wreck and his wand on the other side of the bathroom. There was blood everywhere and the bathroom smelled thickly of it. Immediately, Harry tried to pull out his wand, but the fingers of his left hand wouldn’t work properly. Using his right hand, Harry pulled out his wand and uttered a string of spells Madame Pomfrey had once taught him that would immediately close all the wounds on Malfoy arm. As they healed and Harry slipped across the blood-slicked floor to grasp a hold of Malfoy and pull him from the room, Draco raised his hazy, gray eyes. “Don’t…not supposed…to be…here…”“Why would you do this?!!” Harry shouted as he lifted Draco and carried him to the bed.“Not…supposed to be here…mistake,” Draco mumbled. “Fixing…mistake.”Harry laid Draco down on the bed and hovered over him, checking vitals and making sure all the cuts on his arm had closed up. “You are not a mistake, Malfoy.” Draco’s heartbeat was way too slow. “No one…would miss me…” Draco heaved a sigh and closed his eyes. Harry crawled under the sheets with Draco, concentrating that magic between them, trying to charge it with his own energy and wandless magic. “I would,” Harry whispered, pulling Draco’s body close and pressing his forehead against the lightning bolt scar. Suddenly, yellow crackling energy began spiking around them. “Look at me, Malfoy.”“No…you wouldn’t,” Draco murmured dreamily. “You would just…feel bad…”“Look at me.”Draco opened his eyes and gazed back into Harry’s intensely worried green eyes. “I would miss you,” Harry whispered fiercely. “I didn’t send out the transfer.”Draco blinked slowly until his eyes lost their pigment and his pupils became as wide as his irises. “Malfoy?” Harry called out, terrified. “Malfoy?!”Harry shook him and the energy spiking and swirling around them became denser. “You are not allowed to die here! Malfoy! Look at me!”Harry’s voice became frantic and he squeezed his eyes, trying to pour his magic into the energy that connected them. Harry’s heart beat wildly as the energy surged through his body and into Draco’s. Draco’s body jumped as the energy charged his heart, again and again, trying to restart it. “Breathe!” Harry screamed. “Goddamit, Draco! Breathe!”And then, when Harry’s heart felt like it was going to explode, one last charge jolted against Draco’s heart and he arched in Harry’s embrace, sucking in a breath; and then everything went white. Through the brilliance of their peaked magic, Harry shivered against Draco’s body, the nerves in his limbs jarred by the experience of his own energy being used to revive another human being. Draco brought a hand up and ran it down the length of Harry’s cheek. “Shh,” Draco whispered, still in a dream-like state, and gathering Harry into his arms. “I’ve got you.”Harry buried his face into Draco’s chest, feeling his heart beating steadily, and continued to shiver and twitch. “Thank you,” Harry heard Draco whisper, anguish in his voice making it thick and heavy; and Harry began weep with relief. ~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~A Cruel Game~The next morning...~~When Harry first opened his eyes some fifteen hours later and did not immediately see Draco lying next to him, Harry panicked and sat straight up, blinking the sleep from his eyes and flicking his eyes around madly. "Potter," Draco murmured to his left. "I am here."Harry twisted in the sheets and saw Draco reclined in a chair, looking over the rim of a scroll he had retrieved from the library, no doubt, and watching Harry carefully, his face unreadable. Draco offered half a smile. "You've been sleeping since yesterday. How are you feeling?""Why the fuck did you do that?" Harry snapped, his eyes suddenly going bright and almost fevered, and Harry freed himself from the sheets and went to stand over Draco and his chair. "You scared me to death, Malfoy!""I was trying to prove a point." "What point?!" "Did you feel it?"Harry blinked at him, wanting to scream and shout about his incredible stupidity but rendered speechless because the question caught him off guard. "When I was dying," Draco said quietly, lowering the scroll and setting it aside. "Did you feel it?"Harry looked to the side, remembering the weakness in his limbs and the inexplicable dizziness. "Yes," Harry said. "I needed you to understand," Draco said so softly, Harry could barely here him, though his gray eyes spoke in loud volumes. "We're in this together, you and I; whether we like it or not."Harry's mouth fell slack for a moment before his anger exploded. "COULDN'T YOU HAVE JUST--""Told you?" Draco interrupted calmly. "I did try, if you recall. But, alas, people don't fucking listen."Harry snapped his jaw closed and pressed his lips into a thin line, staring back at Draco incredulously. "You must figure out less extreme ways of getting things accomplished, Malfoy," Harry said finally. "You cannot slit your wrist every time we have an argument."Draco stood, Harry already so close that the action caused their bodies to be mere inches apart. Harry breathed in and tried to classify Draco's scent. It was a sharp, clean smell...accompanied by something else sweet and exotic. Draco smelled like forbidden things, and Harry's heart beat faster for it. Draco reached up and placed a finger beneath Harry's chin, forcing Harry to meet his gaze. Frustration and the residual murmur of worry swam beneath the surface of Harry's emerald green orbs and Draco was amazed, mesmerized by the meaning behind Harry's gaze. "Such concern for my welfare," Draco whispered. "I really shouldn't," Harry muttered to himself before craning his neck and pressing his lips against Draco's, lacing his fingers into the hair at the base of Draco's neck. Draco answered almost immediately, clutching at Harry's shirt collar and moaning as Harry's tongue swept into his mouth. Harry's lips moved over his in an almost professional manner, and his limbs quivered with restraint until Draco pulled back slightly to run his teeth along Harry's lower lip. Then, with an animalistic growl, Harry dug his fingers deeper into Draco's hair and yanked violently, using the leverage to plunder Draco's mouth savagely. Overwhelmed by Harry's sudden spike of passion, Draco succumbed to a shivering thing in the young Auror's arms, moaning as Harry's tongue seemed to be everywhere in his mouth at once. Suddenly, Harry clutched Draco's shoulders, turned him, and pushed him gently onto the bed. Eager fingers reached up and pulled Harry down atop him, and Harry allowed himself a guttural moan as his hardening prick pressed against Draco's. Watching Harry's lids flutter closed over his passion-streaked eyes, Draco marveled at how free and beautiful Harry looked when he let himself surrender to his desires, wondering how many people were able to see him this way. Draco gasped when Harry shifted and then pressed back against him, the friction of their two lengths rubbing against one another sending shivers up and down Draco's spine and he arched into it, throwing his head back. Draco wrapped the sheets around him in his fingers, waiting for the next surge of Harry's hips against his, but it never came. Draco looked up at his tormentor through the haze of his desire, seeing Harry gazing down at him with the same questioning restraint that had began the kiss. "We can't--""Oh, no," Draco mocked softly, grabbing Harry's shirt and pulling him down, flush against his body, and grazing his teeth along Harry's jaw-line and nipping at the lobe of his ear. "We can't, we shouldn't, we mustn't," Draco whispered against Harry's ear before running his tongue along the lobe and pulling it gently into his mouth with his teeth. Harry groaned, the muscles of his arms on either side of Draco quivering as he fought to keep himself from completely collapsing on top of the Malfoy heir. "But we are," Draco whispered, spreading his ministries down the side of Harry's throat. Harry's neck arched into the touch and he moved his head to the side as Draco placed warm kisses down the length of his throat and the jut of his collarbone, undoing Harry's shirt-buttons as he went. "And doesn't it feel wonderful?"Harry thrust his hips against Draco's in answer, beginning a slow steady rhythm, and Draco buried his face into Harry's now bare chest, lost in the sensation of friction building between them and the heat pooling in their stomachs. Harry dipped his head, spreading small, quiet kisses over Draco's face, and Draco nearly wept at the savage tenderness of it all. Draco lifted his face; arching his body as close to Harry's as possible and allowed Harry to move his mouth over his once again. Harry's searching fingers sought and found the lower hem of Draco's shirt, lifting it slightly and slipping his hand underneath. Draco shivered against Harry's touch as his hand moved up and over Draco's stomach and chest, gasping against Harry's mouth when his fingers found and gently twisted a nipple before moving on, finding a new place to torment. Harry's thrusting hips steadily began to gather speed, the friction between their groins making their erections nearly unbearable, and Draco began to lose focus on meeting Harry's kiss, lost in the sensations shooting up his spine and the stars bursting behind his closed lids. Harry ran his tongue down the flesh of Draco's throat, allowing him to lose himself in the storm of his impending orgasm, and kept lowering his kisses, keeping the pace of his thrusts against Draco as steady as possible, it suddenly very important to Harry that Draco come, and when he reached the collar of Draco's black silk shirt, Harry all but ripped it open and Draco smiled hazily. Harry dipped his head once again and latched on to one small pink nipple, lapping at it with his tongue in tantalizing circle-like motions before biting down and then smoothing over the sting with a swipe of his tongue, earning small mewling noises from the back of Draco's throat as Harry sped up his thrusting pace to an almost frantic speed. Suddenly, Draco clutched violently at Harry's arms, digging his fingers painfully into the skin, as the storm of his impending orgasm began to take shape within the churning heat in his stomach. Draco's eyes went dark with surprise and passion as he stared up at Harry. Harry watched, his intense gaze doing more for Draco than his hips were, as the body beneath him tightened like a bowstring and Draco's eyes lost their focus. Then, meeting Harry's thrusts in four jerky, final movements, Draco groaned loudly, his orgasm overwhelming him, and finally collapsed against the sheets beneath Harry's fascinated, intense gaze. Without a word, Harry moved to the side and laid next to Draco, waiting patiently for him to catch his breath and re-gather his wits. When Draco finally looked back at him, his eyes were almost dreamy and a slow smile curved his lips. Harry took in a deep breath, his eyes sharp and knowing. "That was your first orgasm, wasn't it?" Harry asked softly. Draco chuckled. "No," Draco answered. "It was my first with another person, granted, but not my first altogether. My own hand does wonders, I'll have you know."Harry groaned and flung his arm over his hands. Draco raised a brow, not entirely in the mood for Harry's dramatics. "What?""You're seriously a virgin, mate?" Harry clarified under his arm. Draco frowned. "I was making a potion to save your arse in the Chinese wilderness when you and everyone else was a having their first shag, Potter," Draco said heatedly. Harry moved his arm and looked back at Draco. "Have I ever thanked you for that?""What?" Draco asked, confused. "Your first shag?""No," Harry whispered, the intensity of his sudden vulnerability nearly blinding Draco. "For saving my life."Draco looked away, that nameless thing behind Harry's eyes too much to bear directly. "No...but I don't want you to."Harry tenderly touched Draco's face, urging him to look back at him. "You need to hear it, Draco."At hearing his first name fall from Harry's lips, Draco’s surprised gray eyes lifted back to Harry's green gaze. "Thank you," Harry murmured. Anything Draco would have said died on his lips and he moved forward abruptly and kissed Harry passionately, trying to push away the fright of his own vulnerability that suddenly bubbled up inside of him. A pop sounded by the door and they both jumped. Draco sat up and sent a withering glare Slightly's direction and the house elf shrank back, wringing her hands. "Slightly is here to ask Harry Potter if he would like breakfast like Master told her," Slightly squeaked. "Master did say so.""That's all right, Slightly," Harry responded kindly, putting a restraining hand on Draco's elbow. "I'm not--"Draco suddenly whirled on him. "If you say you're not hungry, Merlin save me, I'm going to hex you into the next world! You need to eat; especially after last night. Why don't you ever eat?"Taken aback, Harry's eyes widened and flickered to the nervous house elf by the door. "I'll...have some eggs, Slightly. Hard boiled, if you please. Thank you."Slightly nodded vigorously before popping back out of the room. Harry stood and walked into the bathroom, and even though it was cleaned of any traces of blood, Harry still had traces of Draco's dried blood on his skin. Harry turned on the faucet of the sink and watched as the steam from the hot water fogged up the mirror. Slipping out of his shirt, Harry discarded it on the floor and began scrubbing the flaky, dried blood from his hands and arms. Draco moved into the bathroom and leaned against the doorframe. "What about you?" Draco asked, his eyes laughing again in that insufferable way. Harry looked over a muscled shoulder. "What?"Draco gestured casually with a flick of his wrist and Harry glanced down at his still unbelievably hard erection pressing against the front of his pants. Harry shrugged. "When it concerns you, Malfoy, I am quite certain I've withstood worse."Draco smirked and moved forward, turning off the faucet and placing himself between Harry and the sink. "Come now, Potter," Draco murmured, deliberately unzipping Harry's trousers and sliding his hand inside. "I find I like it better when you call me Draco. What must I do to have you call me Draco?"Harry twitched when Draco closed his fingers around his aching shaft and began to move his hand torturously up and down the silky, hard length. "That," Harry gasped, pressing his face into the crook between Draco's neck and shoulder, the muscles in his neck suddenly turned to liquid. "Oh?" Draco teased, running his thumb over the head's slit and using the oozing pre-cum as a bit of lubricant as he continued to work Harry's straining phallus. "So say it.""Draco," Harry murmured against Draco's shoulder. "Hmm?" Draco murmured against a cruel smile, a smile that was only Draco, as he moved to the base of Harry's cock and squeezed, kissing the exposed side of Harry's neck."Draco!" Harry gasped, clutching Draco's shoulders. Draco tugged harder and reached up with his free hand to lift Harry's face to meet his in an animalistic kiss. Draco pulled Harry's lower lip onto his mouth with his teeth and sucked on it before releasing it and pushing his tongue past the young Auror's swollen lips. "Again," Draco whispered. "Draco," Harry breathed against Draco's mouth and Draco twisted his wrist around Harry's cock, now quivering against Draco's skilled hand. Draco reached lower and cupped Harry's balls, fondling them slightly before pressing two fingers against that sensitive spot behind them. Harry cried out against Draco mouth and Draco bit down on Harry's lip when Harry arched against him and began moving his hips to meet the movements of Draco’s hand. "Draco..."Draco pulled even faster, working the length, twisting and adding pressure, until Harry was moving against his hand so erratically; it was stirring his own groin back to life. "Come for me, Harry. That's it..."Harry came with a shout, wrapping his arms around Draco's neck and shivering as the residual spasms of his orgasm shook his body. Draco held him close, rocking him slowly. "Shh, I've got you. I've got you."When Harry finally calmed and raised his eyes to Draco's, he brought up a finger and traced the line of Draco's jaw before pressing a small kiss to Draco's lips. Draco smirked when Harry pulled away. "Now let's get you cleaned up. You really are filthy."Harry rolled his eyes and reached passed him to turn the faucet back on. "Real cute, Malfoy. You sure know how to ruin a moment.""No worse than you, I must say.""You were right; your hand does work wonders."Draco laughed. "Um, by the way, where the hell are you sleeping?""The study.""Well, now, that just won't do."~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Deliverence Dane was a woman who was examined in Andover, Maryland for the Salem Witch Trials in 1692. Her information can be found in "The Salem Witchcraft papers" written in 1977 by Boyer and Nissenbaum. This really has no concrete importance to the story except that I fell in love with her name and used it in this chapter and wanted to cite where I got it from in case anyone was interested.Enjoy. ~Behind Door Number Two~"An[if] it harm none, do what you will." ~Wiccan RedeThe next morning…~~Draco blinked, his eyes focusing suddenly, and looked around him. He found himself standing before the window of his bedroom, still in his bed wear, his sock-less feet chilled and pressed into the carpet, and staring at Pan, his Eagle Owl, who was perched on a branch outside the window, gazing shrewdly back at the Malfoy heir. Draco stepped back, trying to remember how he had gotten there and nearly panicked, thinking, for a split second, that he had forgotten everything all over again. However, no, Draco recognized his owl and his surroundings, knowing that the infinitely stubborn Harry Potter was sleeping chastely down the hall in his study, and Draco must have sleep walked over the window. Draco shivered, abruptly registering the tingling sensation between his shoulder blades and tried to shake it off. Strangely, Draco knew he had dreamed as the heaviness of it hung around him still; and yet, he could not re-formulize the dream in his mind. Draco took in a deep breath, scowled cynically at Pan, who bemusedly tilted his regal head to one side, and turned to gather his robe. Tying the sash around his narrow waist and slipping on some slippers, Draco made his way down the hall and into the study. Draco felt the corners of his mouth lift into a decidedly affectionate half-smile as he found Harry sleeping behind his desk, curled in a chair, and his head to one side, causing his thick, messy black hair to fall into his sleeping eyes and brush lovingly against his proud cheeks. Draco caught himself and let the smile dissipate before unraveling the sash of his robe so he could slip out of it and use it as a makeshift blanket to cover the sleeping Boy Who Lived. Taking a seat across the desk, Draco stared out the far window and watched the sun rise as he waited for Harry to wake. Draco frowned as the dawn erupted over the horizon in fiery reds and golds, preferring a quiet, pale dawn to a riot of color any day. As Draco stubbornly squinted at the rays of fire brightening the eastern sky he thought of the day before and how, despite the day’s events, Harry had ended up sleeping once again his study. While Draco wouldn’t call it discomfort, the feeling permeating the space between them by the time they had their morning meal, it was definitely distant…and not entirely Harry’s doing either. Their infrequent conversations had been forcefully light and Draco found himself wanting to roam the house instead of pestering Harry as he had done when they first arrived at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Harry continued to research in his study, his attack of conscience throwing him back into his work full force, probably to keep his mind off of what they had done. And while Draco was almost certain Harry had had his fair share of meaningless relationships, they both knew it would never be so between them. If they tried, they would fail. The two of them were connected by ancient magic, and the sexual tension swimming densely in the air between them constantly certainly did not help. After yesterday, they both new they could—and probably would—fight the growing attraction, physical and certainly emotional as well, between them, and for each of them, very different reasons would spur their rebellion. Draco assumed it was Harry’s aggravatingly golden honor that would stay his hand when it came to him. For Draco’s part, as much as touching Harry made him feel alive like nothing else, Draco could not stomach the immediate vulnerability he felt bared as Harry’s intense green eyes stripped him of every barrier he had spent years building around himself. Whatever frightened thing quivered beneath the stifling layers Draco had wrapped around his soul, it would take more than even the best intentions from the noble Harry Potter for him to trust anyone with the defenseless side of Draco Malfoy. Because Draco Malfoy has never trusted anyone; ever. When Harry stirred and slowly opened his eyes, Draco glanced over at him with a perfect, pureblood smirk. “I cannot possibly be expected to believe that that chair is more comfortable than my bed,” Draco drawled. Harry looked down at Draco’s robe that covered him and a small smile graced his lips. “How incredibly sweet of you, Malfoy,” Harry remarked, almost cynically…but not quite. “Oxymoronic,” Draco said with a shake of his head. “Malfoy’s are never sweet.”Harry stretched languidly before placing his elbows on his desk and rubbing the palms of his hands into his groggy eyes. “You’re up awfully early.”Draco shrugged even though Harry wasn't looking. “Couldn’t sleep.”Harry glanced up. “Why?”Draco eyes seemed to frost before they returned to their normal shade of slate grey. “No idea, Potter. Perhaps it had something to do with the incessantly cold sheets.”Harry rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair. Harry was almost grateful that Draco’s attempt to treat what was evolving between them with humor, knowing that it could be ever-so-serious if they weren’t careful. “Really, Potter,” Draco continued. “Even if your insufferable honor dictates that you maintain a measure of professionalism with me, I know for a fact that my room isn’t the only one with a bed. Why do you insist on sleeping in the study?”“So talkative this morning, Malfoy,” Harry muttered, shutting his eyes briefly and trying to ignore the question. Sirius Black, his deceased godfather and dead for trying to protect him once upon a time, used to sit at this very desk. Harry shivered, as the recurring thought he constantly battled whispered through his mind. Those who attempted to protect Harry Potter, usually died while doing so. Even Draco. Once. “Don’t try to change the subject,” Draco said with a frown. “Why?”When Harry re-opened his eyes, the pained expression behind them caught Draco off guard. “I have my own flat in London, near the Ministry,” Harry murmured. “I rarely come here. There are too many ghosts…and I don’t like the way some of the wings make me feel.”“How do they make you feel?” Draco inquired softly after a loaded pause. Harry looked to the left and stared off into something Draco couldn’t see. “It’s like an echo of everything I hate…everything I fought once and everything I could become if I chose it.”Draco was quiet for nearly a minute, mulling this over in his mind. That Draco could understand as well. Malfoy Manor had lineages of ghosts that kept watchful eyes on their descendants, making certain that their sons and daughters did not fail in continuing their line. Draco had despised going home on holiday during his time at Hogwarts, knowing for certain that the eyes of his ancestors saw right through his wretched, deceiving soul and were cursing him to infinity and back. Draco was also aware of the effect sharing a Horcrux with Voldemort must have tormented Harry Potter. Draco had watched from afar at Hogwarts as their connection had driven Harry to darker moods and extreme fits of temper in their sixth year. It must have terrified the Gryffindor Golden Boy to know that it would be so easy, too easy, in fact, to just surrender to the scar and become another Dark Lord; one infinitely more powerful and extreme than the one they already had to contend with. “I thought I would have taken that from you when I took your scar,” Draco said finally, knowing all too well what it was to fight the faceless darkness within. “The Horcrux was the only thing connecting you to Voldemort.”Harry looked back at Draco then, his dense green eyes haunted. “Voldemort’s aren’t born, Malfoy. They’re made. He was Tom Riddle once.”Draco didn’t respond right away, trying to swallow the thought that the monster that had murdered his mother had been human once. “You’re nothing like him, Potter,” Draco grated, abruptly leaning forward in his chair, his eyes bright and intense, flashing silver like lightning. “If nothing else, remember that you CHOSE Gryffindor. You chose. These ghosts have nothing on the power of choice.”Harry peered back at Draco, trying to read the message those gray eyes were trying to send him. Harry saw the shift, the nameless urgency behind those piercing gray eyes, as if there was a message there for the both of them…a message even Draco couldn’t decipher. A secret hidden inside the Malfoy heir. Maybe it was the scar that whispered behind Draco’s eyes.Suddenly, the silver faded back to gray and Draco sat back. “You did choose,” Draco repeated in a softer tone. “As I did…I…, never mind.”“What?”“Nothing.”“Malfoy, tell me.”“It’s nothing. When are you going to sleep with me?”Harry let out a startled laugh before his eyes went dark with a scowl. “This is not your harem, Malfoy.”“No,” Draco said solemnly, his snark back in full swing. “But it’ll do.”“You’re such a fucking prick, Malfoy,” Harry sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I cannot believe I almost shagged your snobby arse.”Draco produced the most seductive smile Harry had ever seen. “’Almost’ is something to be remedied, isn’t it?”“No, Malfoy.”“I wouldn’t be so terrible, would I?”“You’re a virgin.”“Something else to be remedied,” Draco replied with a grin. “And sweeter the victory for you.”“No, Malfoy.”Draco chuckled. “I wonder if masochism is a common Gryffindor trait.”“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Harry snapped. “Your problem,” Draco murmured as he stood to his feet and gathered his robe, “is that you know you’ll enjoy it too much.”Harry stared hard at Malfoy, glad that the desk was between them…though, all things considered, it may not be enough if Draco kept looking at him that way. “I will not be another tool for you to defy your lineage, Malfoy,” Harry said in a low voice. “Your rebellion is your own.”That cruel smile that set Harry’s blood on fire curved Draco’s regal mouth. “Regardless of my game, Potter, the fact remains. You want it too.” Harry closed his eyes against that smile that made the ghosts of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place shriek like banshees through his mind, and when he opened them, Draco Malfoy was gone. “So, seduce me,” Harry whispered to the cold, empty space Draco Malfoy left behind. However…Harry was quite certain he already did. ~~In Wisconsin…**“Hello, Mister Deans,” a Betty called out from the Receptionist’s desk in front of Dr. Laeverton’s Office. Deans paused in his steady stroll towards the Doc’s office to smile pleasantly at the plump woman and her bleached and teased out hair. “Mary,” Deans greeted. “How are you?”“Could be better, of course, if I wasn’t here,” Mary responded with a flirtation grin that Deans had to fight to not grimace at. Her bright red lipstick was smeared all over the front of her teeth. “Oh?” Deans inquired, leaning against her desk. “When do you get off?”The Betty giggled shrilly and tried to cross her legs gracefully; and failing, of course. “In ten minutes or so.”“Fantastic,” Deans said with a charming smile. “Go doll yourself up while I drop off something for the Doc and I’ll take you to coffee; how does that sound?”Mary’s eyes widened a fraction and nearly fell over herself trying to find her bag and standing up. “That sounds wonderful! I’ll be right back!”Deans’s smile instantly disappeared when the Betty turned the corner and he felt his lip curl. When a woman, Muggle or otherwise, said she was going to be right back, it instantly gave the man a window of about thirty minutes. Deans turned back to the office. He had plenty of time. Inside the Doc’s office, whose usual retainer had been home sick for the past few days on a mysterious bout of influenza he had contracted—from the American Aurors, no doubt, Deans thought, to give a reasonable amount of time to clean up the mess the British had left behind—Deans turned in a circle, his eyes searching for the document. Frowning slightly, Deans retrieved the wand he always kept hidden within his sleeve. It wasn’t his, of course. His wand had been broken by Headmistress Deliverence Dane of Seqouia School of American Wizardry and Witchcraft when he had inadvertently caused the death of another student from Salamen House. The wand he held was the deceased boy’s wand, kept with him to remind him of his greatest sin and to, of course, enable him to use magic in secret as a he lived as a Muggle. “Accio journal,” Deans muttered and immediately John Smith’s notebook—the accurate one—floated up from beneath a pile of papers. Deans tucked the wand safely back into his sleeve and walked briskly from the office, the notebook clutched securely in his hand. Outside St. Mary’s, the mysterious man who had contracted Deans’…skills…some four to five months ago waited patiently under the shadows of a large oak tree. Deans handed him the notebook and watched as the man’s bright blue eyes gleamed covetously at the sight of it. Then the man handed him a briefcase and Deans checked it for the owed money. Satisfied, Deans closed the briefcase and straightened to watch the man slowly walk away from him. “When are you going to tell me your name?” Deans called after him. “Never,” the man said over his shoulder, his voice low and indistinct. “I’ll need to have something to call you,” Deans pressed, leaning against the tree. “What if I am questioned?”The man paused and turned back to Deans, a slow, malicious smile stretching the glamour that distorted his actual features. “Then call me The Gatherer.” ~~Back at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place…**Harry shifted in the chair, trying and failing to find a comfortable spot so he could fall back to sleep. The remainder of the day had been uneventful and Draco had left him alone. The desired effect, however, was not what Harry had wanted. Harry had found himself bothered and distracted, glancing up every half a minute, expecting Draco to come sauntering back into his study but he never came. Eventually, Harry became tired and settled in for the night. He had slept a few hours but had woken abruptly in the witching hours of the night and unable to fall back asleep. Of course, his mind was fixated on Draco and Harry was too tired to try and think of something else. Annoyed, Harry shifted again before throwing off the blanket he had wrapped around himself and stood up. Harry supposed it wouldn’t hurt to go check on the Malfoy heir and made his way down the hall. Harry paused before Draco’s bedroom door, a battle raging in his mind, before grasping the handle and opening the door. Harry frowned when he saw Draco’s rigid form standing directly in front of the window, the front of his body and his tilted face pale with the moonlight that streamed through the window. “Malfoy?” Harry called out but Draco didn’t move. Harry went and stood in front of him, his blood suddenly cold as he gazed down into Draco’s wide open eyes. His gray irises had all but disappeared and his pupils were black and empty. Harry felt his skin prickle with goose bumps as he stared down into the abyss of Draco’s eyes, knowing that the void led somewhere Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to go. Harry grasped Draco’s shoulders and shook him. “Malfoy, snap out of it!”Draco still did not respond and Harry began to worry. “Draco!”Draco blinked and his pupils shrank to a normal size. Suddenly, Draco shook himself and peered at Harry, confused. “What?”Harry breathed a sigh of relief. “Do you always sleepwalk?”Draco, beginning to shiver, laughed softly. “Not that I can remember; at least, not before I came here.”“Huh.” Harry placed a hand on the small of Draco’s back and led him to the bed. “Are you cold?”Draco slid beneath the covers and pressed his cheek into a pillow. “I don’t think so.”“Then why are you shaking?” Harry asked, standing by the bed still. “I don’t know.”Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment before turning towards the door. “Potter?”Harry turned back and Draco gazed up at him, the quivering in his limbs belying the confidence and strength in his gray eyes. “Stay,” Draco murmured and held the sheets back in invitation. Harry considered for a moment before moving forward and lying next to the Malfoy heir. Harry stared at the ceiling as Draco shivered beside him for half a moment before turning his face to Draco’s. Draco stared back at him, a simple question behind that perfect grey.Harry slid his arm beneath Draco’s waist and pulled the shivering Malfoy towards him, wrapping him in a protective, warm embrace and running his fingers soothingly through Draco’s white hair. Slowly, Draco’s shivering subsided and he was lulled to sleep by the comforting touch in his hair. Soon, as Harry became accustomed to Draco’s forehead pressed into his cheek and a third leg resting comfortably between his, Harry felt his eyes droop; his last thought remembering how much better it felt to fall asleep in someone’s embrace...and in a bed. ~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~The Risking Whispers~ “It’s a crime……You let it happen to me……Never mind……I let it happen to you……I don’t mind……There’s nothing left to lose……Except my mind…and all the things I wanted……How can I believe…?…When this cloud hangs over me……You’re the part of me that I don’t want to see……Forget it, forget it, forget it, forget it……Just fade away……Please let me stay……Caught in your way……I can live forever here…” ~Forget It, Breaking Benjamin. The next morning…~~As dawn light crept through the branches of the old oak tree outside the bedroom window, Harry fought to stay asleep, a defensive instinct telling him that it would be better to keep his eyes closed and not open them to the image of Draco Malfoy sleeping serenely beside him. However, because perhaps masochism was indeed a common Gryffindor trait, Harry opened his eyes and automatically focused on Draco’s peaceful face. Harry swallowed against the swell of frustration that tightened in his throat, the more common battle in his mind about how he should feel about his old school nemesis and what he thought he was actually beginning to feel raging with a vengeance. While Harry was almost certain Draco Malfoy would always be the annoying, snobby prick he always took him for at Hogwarts, Harry was beginning to grow accustomed and actually almost endear those traits of the Malfoy heir’s that used to make his blood boil and want to punch Draco in his delicate, sneering face until his knuckles were raw. The things that had made Draco seem utterly despicable and justified Harry and his friends’ loathing of the Slytherin Prince seemed more and more untrue. Well, perhaps not untrue, but simply left to skewed perception. Simply put: Draco Malfoy wasn’t as horrid as Harry had once thought. And now Harry was sleeping next to him, protecting the Malfoy heir in every way Harry had ever protected a person, and was left wondering why it didn’t feel as wrong as it should. Draco was on his side, curled towards Harry, his hand resting in the space between them and, while they weren’t touching, it seemed intimate to Harry, as if it were the most comfortable and natural thing to wake up in bed with this man, facing him, and watching the heave and fall of his chest as Draco slept. Harry gazed on as Draco shifted slightly and a lock of shining white hair fell across his proud yet delicate cheek; and Harry considered, for the thousandth time, actually taking Draco as a lover. Of course, ethically, it was a terrible option to consider, and morally, worse; however, again, it felt too natural for Harry to ignore. Objectively, Harry understood that the ever-present challenge between them was a part of why he knew taking Draco as a lover would, in the very least, be interesting by default. Also, Harry was beginning to realize that Draco’s unforgiving faith in Harry being a human and not some god of a wizard was something Harry craved, as well as the cruel honesty and their snarky exchanges. And, of course, there was the simple fact that Draco Malfoy encompassed a sexiness that was deep and dangerous and proud. Harry rarely termed men as beautiful, but if he had to, Draco Malfoy would be on the list, as near to the top as expected. It was impossible to fight his automatic reaction to those sharp, laughing gray eyes and those thin, cruel, knowing smiles. And, then, there was the magic between them. It was a raw energy that seemed to have an intention of its own, drawing them together and connecting them without permission. Magic was something that had always awed Harry; however, he had learned to control it at Hogwarts and use it at his will. This crackling, spiking, ancient magic between them seemed to ebb and flow with its own volition and controlling it only seemed to happen when Harry was completely out of control and working on pure instinct, as he did the night Draco slit his wrist. Not understanding this thing between them frightened Harry to no end, more so, perhaps, than the growing attraction to the pale, snobby Slytherin Prince he had practiced loathing for years. Yet, the more Harry fought it, the more surrendering to it seemed opportune; even if Harry knew Draco Malfoy was playing his own game. The game…Harry wasn’t exactly sure what it detailed, but he did recognize the excitement in Draco’s eyes when they blazed with rebellion against his heritage. Harry was certain that Draco Malfoy lived and breathed with the sole purpose to aggravate someone, and, at the time being, Draco’s vendetta still seemed to be centered around the lies he had to swallow and become for his heritage and the people and circumstances that led up to his mother’s death. Harry knew that Draco liked the idea of taking the Boy-Who-Lived as a lover because what better way to piss off purebloods and Death Eaters alike in one go? Whatever else Draco had in his head, Harry couldn’t fathom. There was still so much of Draco Malfoy that was still a mystery to Harry. Harry reached and pushed the lock that whispered against Draco’s check gently to the side and froze when a pair of clear, gray eyes fluttered open and stared back at him, his fingers still hovering above Draco’s cheek. Draco’s eyes were alert and unwavering as they stared at one another and Harry finally withdrew his hand. Draco’s eyes moved with the motion of Harry’s hand but he remained still, assessing and Harry became nervous. “Malfoy?” Harry whispered, wondering if this was like the night before when he found Draco staring out the window. Draco raised a brow. “Yes?”Feeling foolish, Harry shook his head and made to stand up, unnerved by the intensity of those sharp, gray eyes. Draco reached out and pulled him back down, his mouth curling into a bemused smile. “It’s early yet,” Draco murmured, the boldness in his eyes becoming more pronounced. “I was just thinking about how you were awake and still here. That’s all.”Harry didn’t respond, peering across the space between them cautiously as he pulled the pillow under his head again. Draco’s smile became wider and a flash of perfectly white teeth added to the insufferable charm of his curving mouth, and Harry, watching, knew those teeth were just as sharp as they looked. “Good morning, Harry,” Draco said and held back a laugh when Harry blinked at the use of his first name. “Not ‘Potter’ today, is it?”Draco’s smile became even wider and Harry’s blood began to burn in his veins. “Well, I should think it would be a bit strange now that we’re sleeping together.”Harry glanced away, that knowing smile sending thoughts echoing madly through his brain. “Oh, come now, Harry,” Draco murmured facetiously. “Shyness really doesn’t become you.”Harry looked back at Draco, his green eyes burning holes into the Malfoy heir and his smile faltered and nearly slipped. “You really think we’re so close, Malfoy? Some things are simply physical.” The cruelty in Harry’s voice made Draco flinch but his smile gathered strength. “True,” Draco whispered. “Some things do have to be earned, I suppose.”Draco reached and grabbed a handful of Harry’s shirt, pulling him closer. Draco bent his head and pressed a long, feather-light kiss to Harry’s lips before pulling away. Harry leaned in automatically when Draco pulled away and this time Draco did laugh, knowing all too well the effect he was beginning to have on Harry Potter. Scowling, Harry rolled on top of Draco, pressing his leg in between Draco’s, and placing his hands on either side of Draco’s head. Glaring down at Draco and seeing his triumphant expression, Harry realized that he had very much waltzed right into Draco’s trap. “For Merlin’s sake,” Harry growled. “You have to stop teasing me, Malfoy.”“Then give me what I want,” Draco replied, his tone not entirely unkind. “You’re insatiable,” Harry muttered, relaxing his stance and pressing his forehead into Draco’s shoulder. “And I don’t know what you want.”Whether it was from pity or compassion, the energy around Draco shifted and he wrapped his arms around Harry, who fell against him instantly, and held him, running a hand soothingly in circles on Harry’s back. Finally, Harry surrendered to the comfort and reprieve from their constant mind game Draco had offered Harry and nearly swooned at the relief he felt when he realized he didn’t have to fight in this moment. Inexplicably, Harry’s mind quieted and he relaxed into Draco’s embrace. “Potter?” Harry looked up, his eyes tired and defenseless. Draco dipped his head and pressed his lips against Harry’s, this kiss entirely different. It was…almost sweet; but, then, Malfoy’s are never sweet. Harry kissed back, allowing Draco’s tongue into his mouth and his fingers in his hair. The kiss was slow and searching, their fingers touching every part of one another they could find with their eyes closed, until finally, their fingers locked and they set to memorize the others’ hands. Harry didn’t realize the kiss had ended, so mesmerized was he by the simple, feather-light touches, until Draco hands moved away and cupped Harry’s face. Harry opened his eyes and looked deep into Draco’s, finding a vulnerable uncertainty there that was like a rare, precious gem. “I’m ready to answer your questions,” Draco whispered, his voice wavering slightly. “But I cannot promise you that you will like them all or if they will even really help.”A thousand sarcastic replies flickered through Harry’s mind but every one of them died on Harry’s lips as he realized Draco was quite serious and, more importantly, afraid of Harry’s judgment. Harry nodded and tried to think of all the unanswered questions Harry had had since before he took Draco’s case, none of them forthcoming. “My mind just went blank,” Harry whispered with an apologetic smile. Draco traced the line of Harry’s jaw and the curve of his neck with an index finger. “Take your time,” he answered. Harry closed his eyes, trying not to focus too much on Draco’s touch and how it left a trail of fire burning on his skin, but not have the desire to ask him to stop. When Harry finally opened his eyes, he had his first question. “How did you know about the Horcruxes and that my scar was the final one?”Draco brought his hand up and gently pushed the messy jet-black locks away from Harry's forehead before thoughtfully running the tips of his fingers over the skin that used to bare the lightening bolt scar. “You, actually,” Draco began. “I overheard you speaking with Granger and Weasley about Horcruxes in sixth year. I did not begin my research on them until after the Dark Lord remarked me and did not realize your scar was the last until I found Regulus Black’s journal in the Malfoy Library and read it through some time after my exile.”Harry frowned. “Regulus Black’s journal?”Draco nodded, taking special care to trace the lobe of Harry’s ear before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot behind it. “Black spoke of a pendant Horcrux that shattered the night Voldemort killed your parents. He remade the necklace and stored it in the prepared spot—some cave somewhere…I can’t remember—and he etched his initials into it so that the finder would know it wasn’t real. Then he put the shattered necklace back together and hid it among the Black Fortune, sealing it so it could be opened from the outside. I believe you found it here, yes?”“Molly did,” Harry answered. “Ron’s mother. So you knew the necklace’s Horcrux was transferred some where the night my parents died because of the journal and that the scar was the new one because…?”“Because you were alive,” Draco said simply, tracing the lower curve of Harry’s mouth while he waited for Harry’s next question. “The Time-Turner,” Harry said. “What about it?”“How did you find it?” Harry met Draco’s kiss instinctually before settling back to hear Draco’s answer. “The Room of Requirement,” Draco said before placing another kiss against the hollow of Harry’s throat. “When I discovered the VCE Elixir, I knew I couldn’t complete it in time. I snuck into Hogwarts and the Room showed me what I would need to make the potion. I stole McGonagall’s Time-Turner, went to Asia, and the rest is history.” Draco began to spread his kisses lower, unbuttoning Harry’s shirt as he went. Harry closed his eyes, trying to concentrate as his blood began to quicken with Draco’s ministries. “And your will? Why would you give Hermione the library?”Draco glanced up, incredulous. “I had thought that would be obvious. To anger my relatives and, frankly, because Granger would put those dusty books to good use.”“And giving Molly Weasley the Malfoy Manor?”Draco paused and glanced away. “While it would be poetic justice to give the Manor to Blood Traitors simply for the pleasure of knowing how it would affect the Wizarding World to do so, it was mainly because the Weasley’s were the only Pureblood Family that managed to stay a true line without becoming…like me.”Harry’s eyes softened. “What do you mean, like you?”“Horrid, wretched, pompous…” Draco shrugged. “And don’t say I’m not. I can be whatever I choose; it is just easier for me to be those things. I am more used to being a Malfoy than otherwise.” Harry did not answer but ran his fingers softly through Draco’s hair as he continued his small, teasing kisses along Harry’s chest, his mouth seeming to be everywhere at once. Harry thought hard about his next question, wanting to make sure it was worth causing Draco to stop to answer it. “Why didn’t you tell Snape what you were doing or where you were going?” Harry nearly moaned when Draco lifted his head, the warmth that had spread along Harry skin growing cold with the absence of Draco’s mouth. Draco chewed on the inside of his cheek, choosing his words carefully. “Because, after my mother died, Severus’ grief seemed heavier than mine. I couldn’t bare it. I had let everyone down and, Merlin save me, I was going to make it right again. And I had to do it on my own.” When Draco finally met Harry’s gaze, an understanding seemed to leap into the energy between them. That, Harry could relate to. He understood, he really did. And, in that moment, Draco knew he did too. Harry sat up and initiated a kiss that rivaled any they had shared to date. It wasn’t violent, but it was passionate; it wasn’t sweet, but it was tender, and when Harry pulled back slightly to understand the wetness he felt on Draco’s cheek, he saw the tears streaming silently down Draco’s proud face and tried to catch them as they fell, kissing them away. Then, their kisses were slower, saltier, and more deliberate as they tried to seal the new understanding between them. A half an hour later, Slightly appeared and took their breakfast order, leaving her master and Harry Potter with a happy smile stretching her face. She, too, noticed the calmer energy between them and the frictionless silence. Today was going to be a good day. ~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~A New Scent~The following day…~~U.S. Magical Law Enforcement Division, Madison, Wisconsin. Muggle Affairs.*Drew Williams met with his partner, Joe Byrne, early that morning—earlier than usual, at least. Williams and Byrne were in the last throes of cleaning up what they had come to affectionately call the ‘British Blunder’ and were hoping that today would mark the last day of IFO—In Field Obliviation—before paperwork and completely wrapping up the case. It was somewhat humorous at first, giving them plenty of material for inane jokes and smirking comments about the British Ministry and how they must train their Aurors to afford such…interesting outcomes. After a week, however, the humor lost its flavor and now they were just tired and very much ready to move on to the next case. Drew Williams was a young father of two girls and husband to Martha Lane, his sweetheart from Seqouia School for American Witchcraft and Wizardry, where he had graduated a year before her from Faraday House, and had been an Auror for MLED, Ontario, California before transferring to Madison when his first girl was born. At Madison, he had been partnered with Byrne and had worked with him for a full five years now. Joe Byrne was an older, and much shorter, Auror with an ailing wife, Madame Kate Galeoanne, and no children. Despite a somewhat somber life at home, Byrne maintained a sense of dry humor and steady grounding to their partnership. Williams often wondered if he hadn’t specifically asked for a younger partner to help him keep his mind off of what awaited him when he went home. The younger energy helped Byrne forget the mortality of them all; at least until he clocked out at five to be reminded all over again. Williams handed Byrne a cup of coffee—black, the way he always drank it—and to a sip of his own—cream, but no sugar—as they peered over their regimen for the day. After Williams finished reading, he glanced balefully at his watch and then over at his partner. “All we have to do is go over footage, Byrne? Why the hell did we have to be here at 6:30 in the godforsaken morning?” Byrne sipped at his coffee and peered at Williams over the rim of the Styrofoam cup. “Cause Madame Molta’s happy hour starts at three today, Williams. We finish early; we have more time to celebrate.”Madame Molta’s was the bar Madison’s MLED’s Aurors always went to after finishing a case. It was bad luck to begin another case without sealing the last one with a schooner of ice cold lager. Williams paused. “Fair enough,” he said finally with a shrug. Minutes later, they approached Phil Lackey’s office, one of the very few Aurors in Wisconsin who understood Muggle technology. Entering, Williams and Byrne never failed to be surprised by the piles of…stuff* that littered the office. Muggle machines and contraptions seemed to seep from every corner and crevice of the tiny room. Carefully edging their way into the room, they searched with their eyes for Lackey, afraid to touch anything with their hands. After nearly a full five minutes of searching for him without avail, Byrne frowned and took a deep breath. “Lackey!” he shouted. A pile of metal rubble in the corner jumped sharply and a middle-aged man with a shirt that really…didn’t…fit him and pants that were too large emerged. Lackey always looked as if he tried to shave his stubble in the dark because patches of longer facial hair grew in no particular order along his wide jaw. His laughing beady eyes were framed by thick, black framed glasses that had three or four extra spectacles attached to the frame, ready to enhance or detract his vision on a moment’s notice. His head was bald and his skin tanned and smudged with dirt and grease. All in all, Phil Lackey was a likable fellow. Albeit strange, but that’s what happened when Wizards became obsessed with Muggle artifacts. They sort of…fall off their rocker a bit. “Phil!” Williams greeted cheerily. “How’s it hangin’?”Phil smiled solemnly. “A little to the left, actually.”Byrne coughed as Williams’ face went slack before he blinked and shook himself from a most unwelcome image. “Phil, we need to review the footage taken a week ago at Willow Station.”“The B and B?”“No,” Byrne said, shaking his head. “The British Blunder.”Phil nodded to himself. “The B and B.”Williams exchanged an exasperated look with Byrne, whose face was the very mask of tolerance, while Lackey dug through a pile of contraptions and pulled out a sort of projector. Then he plugged some wires into some other things and pushed a small, black, rectangular object into a larger, black, rectangular object. Abruptly, Lackey snapped his fingers and the lights went out. Then, pushing a switch, a moving projection began playing on the far screen. Byrne and Williams watched dispassionately as the crane shot focused in on the young British Wizard wrap himself in a cocoon of magic and worry the Muggles around him into a panic. Soon, Muggle Law Enforcement surrounded the station and the scene unfolded a bit more dramatically. The power surges from the young Wizard caused some static in the footage, disrupting the cleaner images. Suddenly, Lackey squealed and pointed. “By me! Is that Harry Potter? It is, isn’t it?”Williams and Byrne exchanged another glance. They had spoken of that at great length. While they had only communicated directly with British Auror Ronald Weasley and the woman from the Ministry of Magic’s Muggle Affairs division, Hermione Granger, they had realized some time later that the man who had walked through the imploding magic around the blond Wizard had, in fact, been the infamous Harry Potter. They had seen him, of course, but had not recognized him at all. The lightening bolt scar and his trademark round spectacles had been missing and, to top it off, he hadn’t looked at all like a Wizard nor an Auror. It wasn’t until they began filing paperwork with the British did his become noticed and the connection made that the black-haired young man who had saved the blond Wizard and Apparated them away had been The-Boy-Who-Lived. Even more interestingly, the blond Wizard had been Draco Malfoy, the man who had killed the Dark Lord who had terrorized Europe some few years back and had been in a coma ever since. To be truthful, the whole story seemed a bit fairytale-ish and Byrne didn’t even believe the Malfoy boy to exist until he had seen him with his own eyes at Willow Station. They had decided that whatever was going on in England with Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, and the Ministry of Magic must be a-whole-‘nother-pickle. Of course, they had wondered why Draco Malfoy would have taken residence in a mental institution in the middle of nowhere Wisconsin in the first place. Even the events that had led up to the spectacle at Willow station had been kept very quiet and left to speculation with the Aurors at MLED, Madison. “Isn’t it?” Lackey pressed. Williams nodded before holding out his hand and ordering Lackey to pause the recording. Instantly, the image froze and Byrne stared over at his young partner as Williams squinted at the screen. “Phil,” Williams said. “Can you zoom in?”Lackey pressed a few buttons and the image shot forward. When it became focused and clear again, Williams stepped closer, peering at the men that surrounded Harry Potter as the two British Aurors, Anin and Mackle, approached. “Phil, keep that picture and move it back a few minutes.” Byrne watched closely as Williams squinted at the screen, the whirring noise of Phil rewinding the recording slowly humming in the background. “Stop,” Williams said bending forward and pointed at a curly haired, olive-skinned man that had driven Harry Potter to the sight and remained near him all the way until Harry Potter decided to brave the storm of magic that surrounded Draco Malfoy.“I recognize this man,” Williams whispered. Byrne studied the man on the screen. The man’s eyes seemed to be everywhere at once whenever no one was looking at him. Byrne didn’t like the way his face changed so often. Byrne had a sinking feeling this case wasn’t quite finished yet. “Who is he, Drew?”Williams bit his lip. “I can’t remember. I swear, I know him though. And I’m certain he is no Muggle. Did you see his expression when they first arrived? You can tell he’s seen magic before. And look at the way he watches Potter.”Byrne nodded and took a deep breathe. “Alright. Contact Weimster and Drasin. I want to know his name, what he does, where he lives, and the exact number of freckles he has on his right hand by lunch time.” “Yes, sir.”~~Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.*Harry looked up from a scroll he was studying from behind his desk and smiled as he saw Draco reading quietly in the corner of the study. The past two days had been good. Good. Harry used to hate the way that word sounded, thinking that nothing could be described so simply. Except now, thinking back at the few short hours between that private moment they shared in Draco’s room and his confession all the way to this moment, Harry knew the best word to use was ‘good’. Good and quiet. Yet, it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. They were beginning to feel more comfortable in one another’s presence and filling up the space with words didn’t feel necessary. “Potter, I can feel your eyes on me. Cut it out.”Scratch that. Never mind. Harry grinned and looked back at his scroll. “What do you want for dinner?”Draco looked up. “Why? Are you cooking?”“Um,” Harry glanced over at Draco again, his smile light. “I really don’t think you’d want me to.”Draco snickered and bent back over his book. “Slightly makes a wonderful soufflé.”“Does she?”“Mmhhmm.”“Sounds great.”“You must be tired of reading.”Harry sighed and rolled up his scroll. “You caught me. I am.”Draco set his book down and sent one those* looks towards Harry. “So what do you want to do?”Harry felt a shiver run down the base of his spine but he matched Draco’s stare boldly and said nothing. Draco stretched before standing and strolling over to Harry’s desk. Draco placed two hands on the desk and leaned forward. “Would you like me to guess, Potter?”A slow smile stretched Harry’s lips and he stood as well, coming around the desk and standing behind Draco. Harry wrapped his arms around the Malfoy heir and pressed him full against his body. Draco’s eyes fluttered closed and Harry could actually see Draco’s pulse quicken in the vein of his throat. Harry bent his head and lightly kissed the vein before biting down, not hard enough to draw blood, but just enough to leave a mark. Draco groaned throatily and Harry felt himself harden at the sound. Harry slid a hand down the flat of Draco’s stomach and grasped one slender hip, pulling Draco closer so he could feel exactly what kind of effect he was having on Harry. Draco rolled his head back onto Harry shoulder and arched his neck, his whole body practically pleading for a kiss. Harry obliged with less control than he had anticipated and a soft growl escaped passed Harry’s throat and disappeared somewhere inside Draco’s mouth as their tongues dueled and sparred. So much and not enough, Harry abruptly pulled away and placed a small kiss on the back of Draco’s neck before stepping away. “After dinner,” Harry said before leaving the study. Tantalized, Draco made some indiscernible noise as he whirled around and watched Harry walk from the room. When he heard Harry’s soft laughter echo down the hall and drift back into the study, Draco couldn’t help but smile. “He’s learning,” Draco murmured wickedly to himself before righting his clothes and following Harry out the door. Good, indeed.~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~Of Mice and Men~“Don’t fret, precious; I’m here……Step away from the window……And go back to sleep…”Minutes later…*Number Twelve Grimmauld Place…~~Dinner was quiet as they ate in the kitchen, stealing looks of barely-masked anticipation. Harry knew Draco must be nervous because his usual back-handed innuendos had all but disappeared and the blond Slytherin Prince was unusually silent. Harry was surprised to find how calm he was despite the inner battle that had raged in him about even considering taking Draco as a lover. Yet, when he had decided the day before, Harry felt languid, the game suddenly turning in his favor. The history of his experience versus Draco’s virginity gave him a sense of control; the upper-hand perhaps. Although, as Harry finished his soufflé—which was delicious, by the way—he was grounded, knowing that he needed to take a care with what the night would bring. Harry would not shatter the fragile trust they had built between them. After Harry placed his dish in the sink to be cleaned later by Slightly, he turned back to Draco, who was still seated at the kitchen table and pushing his unfinished dinner around on the plate. Walking around the table, Harry picked up Draco’s plate and put in the sink as well. When Draco put his fork down and raised his eyes to Harry’s, Harry couldn’t read the feeling that perfect grey was exuding. Harry reached out and entwined his fingers with Draco’s and urged him to stand with his eyes. Then, still gently holding Draco’s hand, Harry led them both back upstairs. **“Safe from pain and truth and choice…”U.S. MLED, Madison, Wisconsin. Muggle Affairs…~~Byrne glanced up when Williams dropped a file on his desk. “The man goes by the name Michael Deans,” Williams said and, though his voice was controlled, years of being his partner told Byrne that Williams was livid. “And that’s bad?”“Michael Deans is dead,” Williams said through his teeth. “Killed in his second year during a Potions accident at Sequoia’s School for American Witchcraft and Wizardry.”“The school you went to,” Byrne said with a nod. “But I thought you recognized the guy? Did he go to the same school?”“Not only did he go to the same school,” Williams said, “he was the student responsible for the accident. His actual name is Maximus Cure. He was expelled and his wand confiscated. I was in my seventh year at the time. That’s how I knew his face.”Byrne scratched at the stubble on his chin. “Is he using magic?”Williams dropped another file on his desk and Byrne picked it up, thumbing through it as he listened to his partner speak. “Nothing on file,” Williams said with a shake of his head. “However, there is a potion called the Inversion Enchantratem that causes the drinker to lose control of his or her magic and it is forced outside the body, separating itself from form. This is what killed Deans. Cure had experimented with the forbidden potion at Sequoia.”“Is that what happened to Malfoy at Willow Station?” “So it seems.”“’So it seems’ isn’t the answer I’m looking for, Williams.”“Yes, Joe, it was. We thought it was a psychological defect. But no, all the evidence points to that potion.”“Does the potion always kill?”“No.”“Explain.”“It renders the drinker harmless and the magic, transferable. It is extremely harmful to children and can kill as with Deans. It’s illegal not because it’s harmful but because it is a way for someone, even a Muggle, to steal magic.”“Merlin’s Balls,” Byrne swore.“My question is,” Williams continued, “how did Cure know that Draco Malfoy would be at St. Mary’s? Why him? Why now?”Byrne gave Williams a shrewd look. “You think someone hired him.”“I do.”Byrne ran a hand through his sparse hair and sighed heavily. “If someone is interested in Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, that someone is interested in Lord Voldemort’s surviving army. We can’t let that mess from England come onto our soil. Find Cure. I want answers.”“You got it.”**“…And all those poisoned devils……See? They don’t give a fuck about you……Like I do…”Number Twelve Grimmauld Place…~~Harry and Draco faced one another in the darkening bedroom. A single candle on the nightstand sent shadows flickering across the room and their faces as they stared at one another. Harry lifted a hand and ran a finger down the side of Draco’s face. Draco’s eyes fluttered closed and he leaned his cheek into the touch. “Are you frightened, Malfoy?” Harry whispered, no trace of mockery in his voice whatsoever. “Oxymoronic,” Draco murmured, turning his face in and placing a kiss on Harry's palm. “Malfoy’s are never frightened.”“Are you frightened, Draco?” Harry uttered, the syllables slipping passed his lips in a breathy whisper. Draco opened his eyes and let Harry see the fear in his eyes. “A little.”Harry closed the space between them and slid his fingers beneath the folds of Draco’s robe, pushing it off and letting the robe pool at their feet. Tenderly, Harry ran his fingers up the length of Draco’s neck and curling them into the blond hair at the base of Draco’s neck. Harry pressed a kiss to Draco’s temple and felt Draco begin to relax against him. “Don’t be,” Harry murmured. **“Count bodies like sheep……Count bodies like sheep…”Fifty-Fourteen Waldemere Way, Madison, Wisconsin…~~Maximus Cure, otherwise known as Michael Deans, felt the prickling on his skin of approaching magic before the two Aurors Apparated inside his studio apartment. Smiling, Cure waved lazily at them and stood from his seat on the couch. “I had expected you sooner,” Cure said. “We have much to discuss, I expect.”The older, shorter Auror, whose badge marked him as Byrne, stepped forward, his wand raised. “Maximus Cure, you are under arrest for the illegal use of magic, for the attack of Inversion Enchantratem on one John Smith, and suspicion of taking a deceased Wizard’s identity. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you…”**“Count bodies like sheep to the rhythm of the war drum……Count bodies like sheep…”Number Twelve Grimmauld Place…~~Undressing one another was a deliberately slow process. Harry took care to kiss every bared part of Draco’s skin as he shed layer after layer of clothing and allowed Draco to dominate his mouth as nimble fingers quickly undid the fixtures of his own robes, shirt and trousers. Despite their unrushed pace, they were breathless as they stood naked in front of one another, the flickering light of the sole lit candle causing shadows to dance upon their skin as they drunk one another in with their eyes. Harry tried to concentrate on his breathing to control himself as Draco’s eyes roamed over his naked skin, that piercing gray caressing his body with more effect than anyone’s fingers ever had. Hesitantly, Draco lifted his hands and placed them on Harry’s chest, gazing up into Harry’s forest green eyes with a question in his own. Harry placed his hands over Draco’s pressed his touch more firmly onto his skin. His courage building, Draco ran his hands down the length of Harry’s bared chest and flat stomach and stepped in to kiss Harry full on the mouth as his hands wrapped around Harry’s waist. Harry groaned when their erections pressed against one another, the feeling electric and sudden, no fabric to bar the sudden spike of arousal between them. Harry growled into the kiss and nearly crushed Draco to him when Draco rocked his hips slightly, pressing closer and tipping his head back to allow Harry more of his mouth. Harry moved away from his lips and begin a trail of kisses down the side of Draco’s neck and shoulder and Draco’s hands found themselves tangled in the thick tresses of Harry’s black hair. Harry bent lower and ran his teeth over a nipple, taking it into his mouth and sucking slightly, eliciting a sharp gasp from the Malfoy heir, a sound the made Harry's blood feel like fire. Harry’s kisses continued to move lower and Draco’s entire body quivered as his mind tried to process where, exactly, Harry was headed. Then, Harry was on his knees, his kisses small and sweet on the inside of Draco’s thigh, his cheek brushing against the length of Draco’s erection as it bobbed, aching for more touch. Draco’s fingers clutched painfully in Harry’s hair as he waited for his hot mouth to engulf him; however, Harry continued his small teasing kisses, his eyes raised towards Draco’s upturned face, watching and waiting. Finally, Draco opened his eyes and looked down; only then did Harry turn his face in, keeping his eyes locked on Draco’s, and pressed a tender kiss to the base of Draco’s aching phallus. Draco shivered, fighting to keep his eyes open and on Harry’s as his mouth moved over, almost reverently, his erection. However, when Harry tongue emerged from that teasing mouth and flicked inside the slit on the head of purpling erection, the muscles in Draco’s neck turned to liquid and his head fell back with a groan. Draco’s fingers tightened even more painfully in Harry’s hair as he continued to use his tongue and lips in slow, reverent patterns up and down the base of his phallus and Harry was certain Draco nearly ripped his scalp clean off when he took all of Draco into his mouth in one sudden movement. The heat of Harry’s mouth was nearly impossible to bear and Draco found a new respect for Harry’s talented tongue as it continued to work around his erection, swirling, sucking, and dancing, the movements reminding Draco of how Harry used to fly in circles around him on the Quidditch Pitch until he was dizzy and thoroughly defeated. The moans escaping past Draco’s throat was music in Harry’s ears, urging him onward with a growing passion to make the movements of his mouth, tongue, and throat as he took in more and more of Draco’s weeping erection to be perfection. Harry brought a hand up to run his fingers lightly under Draco’s balls, his mind singing with the sound Draco made when he pressed against that sensitive spot behind them, and his other hand ran up Draco’s stomach, the quivering muscles of Draco’s abdomen dancing beneath the flesh of his palm, and then around his waist to grip his hip and hold him steady. The heat in the pit of Draco’s stomach was becoming unbearable and the muscles of his entire body quivered uncontrollably. Abruptly, with a gasp, Draco’s knees buckled and Harry immediately removed his mouth and caught him. Standing and in three quick strides, Harry had laid Draco on his back among the sheets of the grand four-post bed and resumed his task, the leverage allowing better angles and a faster pace. Knowing Draco was close, Harry gripped the base of Draco’s erection and pumped while working the head lavishly with his lips and tongue, the noises the Slytherin Prince was making beneath his ministries causing his own erection to become excruciatingly hard and impossible to ignore. Abruptly, Draco’s hips convulsed and he gripped the sheets until his knuckles were white. A sharp cry was Harry’s only other warning before Draco came with hard, short spasms, his semen shooting down Harry’s throat in spurts. Harry swallowed greedily before pulling away and crawling beside Draco to wait for him to calm from the high of his orgasm. “Are you still frightened, Draco?”“Oh, yes,” Draco replied hoarsely. Harry could hear the definite smile in his voice. **“Go back to sleep!Go back to sleep!Count bodies like sheep to the rhythm of the war drums!”U.S. MLED, Madison, Wisconsin. Muggle Affairs…~~“Do you deny the charges?”Cure smiled, his handsome face becoming cold and tight with the seeming innocent expression. “Even if I did, I’m sure you people would find a way to find me guilty.”“Who hired you?”Cure blinked. He had expected the question eventually; however, not nearly so quickly. “Who hired you, Cure?” The same question but with more vehemence. “The Gatherer.”The younger Auror, Williams, slammed his fist on the table. “No games, Cure. I want to go home to my wife and kids tonight. Give me answers so we can end this.”Cure pursed his lips. “So sorry to inconvenience you.”“Cure,” the older Auror warned. “He never gave me his name,” Cure said with a shrug. “He wore glamour, so he could be anybody. And he was only interested in Draco Malfoy. He called himself The Gatherer.”**“Don’t kiss me, don’t touch me, don’t kiss me, don’t touch me……Go back to sleep……Count bodies like sheep to the rhythm of the war drums…”Number Twelve Grimmauld Place…~~Butterfly kisses on Harry’s cheek told him Draco was wincing at the invasion when he pressed a finger into the Slytherin Prince’s entrance. Harry immediately pulled his finger out and, instead of re-lubricating it, shifted Draco’s legs to hook around his neck. Again, Harry had forgotten that Draco was a virgin, so active had he been in their foreplay thus far. And, again, Harry wanted it to be perfect. So, pushing his own need aside, Harry bent his head between Draco’s legs, lifted his slender hips, and began coaxing Draco’s puckered entrance to relax with his tongue. “Shit,” Draco swore as Harry laved at his entrance, and rolled his eyes into the back of his head, electricity shooting up his spine. But damn, it felt good. When Harry pressed a slender digit back into Draco, the Malfoy heir barely noticed it. Harry moved above Draco again and pressed his face into Draco’s shoulder, their breathing labored and their skin slick with sweat. Draco caressed Harry’s back and moaned periodically as Harry worked a finger, then two, and finally three fingers in and out of him, carefully stretching the tight ring of muscle. Harry smiled against Draco’s shoulder when the body beneath him jolted violently and Draco cried out. Memorizing the angle mentally, Harry removed his fingers and Draco’s cry became one of disappointment. Positioning himself above Draco, Harry gazed down at his lover with passion clouded eyes before bending his head to kiss him slowly. “Trust me,” Harry whispered against Draco’s mouth. Draco wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck and pressed his forehead against Harry’s sweat-dampened brow. “I’ve never trusted anyone.”“Trust me,” Harry repeated, feeling the magic between them become more energized and spike in red and white bolts of electricity around them. Draco closed his eyes and nodded. The world seemed to come to a stop when Harry pressed his throbbing, impossibly hard phallus in. The magic between became thick and nearly oppressive as Harry continued to slowly press in until he was buried to the hilt. Then, when he pulled out and pushed back in, the dense energy exploded and lights danced and sped around them, flashing, spinning and crashing, faster and faster until they were lost in it. Draco’s shout was swallowed by the magic when Harry hit that spot and drove into it, over and over, losing himself to the energy that was wrapping them in a vortex of exploding magic, crackling, dangerous, passionate, everything white, and gold, and red, and black, and green, and no color at all. They were deaf, hearing their panting only in their minds, their moans only in their bodies, as the vortex swallowed them and lifted them higher and higher, faster and faster. Too much and not enough. Too much. Draco clutched Harry’s back, holding on against the spinning sensations and biting down on Harry’s shoulder against the dizzying energy that finally exploded into a brilliant expanse of nothing. Harry and Draco found themselves holding one another tightly, their breath coming in hollow gasps, and bodies spend and uncoiling in exhaustion.Eyes wide, Harry pulled back slightly and ran a hand through his damp hair. “Fuck me,” he whispered. “What the hell was that?”Draco blinked as he tried to catch his breath. “It’s not like that every time?”As Harry shook his head slowly, Draco managed to look very smug indeed. Too exhausted to begin a row, Harry untangled himself from Draco’s limbs, muttered a quick cleaning spell, and collapsed against the sheets. Harry’s green eyes watched Draco do the same, albeit with a little more care, and smiled when he settled against the pillows and curled in towards Harry. Slowly the smile faded as Draco shifted, and then shifted again, each time wincing as he tried to find a comfortable position. “I tried to be careful,” Harry murmured after a while. “I’m not sure what happened towards the end but—““Shh, I know,” Draco said, his eyes drooping and his lips curving into a sleepy smile. “I know.”**“I’ll be the one to protect you from……Your enemies and all your demons…I’ll be the one to protect you from……A world to survive and a voice of reason…”London, England…~~The Gatherer read the last page of John Smith’s journal twice before tossing it lazily into the fire. The angry flames ate the notebook greedily as they danced in the reflection of The Gatherer’s pale blue eyes. Soon, the Dark Lord would return. Soon, His army could be rebuilt. Soon. **“I’ll be the one to protect you from……Your enemies and your choice’s sun…”Number Twelve Grimmauld Place…~~Harry awoke in the small hours of the morning, his skin prickling with the cold air that washed over him in harsh gusts. Harry sat up straight, knowing instantly that Draco wasn’t in the bed and saw him standing before the window, the pane open and the curtains fluttering as the cold, night air swept into the room. Harry immediately hopped off the bed and approached Draco. “Draco!” Harry ordered. “Snap out of it!”Draco turned, his eyes dark and lifeless, and regarded the black-haired man before him. Harry took a step back. “Draco?”Those dark, colorless eyes stared on, dead and hollow and oppressive. Harry moved forward and backhanded Draco across the face. When Draco’s head snapped back, it was Draco’s eyes, not the dark hollow ones, which regarded Harry with confusion. “Draco?”Draco looked around, his limbs beginning to shiver uncontrollably, and finally stepped into Harry arms. Harry led Draco back to the bed and curled under the sheets with him. Tenderly, he pushed stray strands away from Draco’s face and gazed worriedly on as Draco shivered beside him. “What the hell is happening to you?” Harry whispered. Draco tried to smile but failed, the muscles around his mouth refusing to work past the shivering. “What the hell is happening to us?” Draco managed finally. Harry bit his lip and pulled Draco closer. “I don’t know.”**“One and the same and I’ll isolate you……Isolate and save you from yourself…” ~Count Bodies Like Sheep to the Rhythm of the War Drums, A Perfect Circle.~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~Black Horizon~“I hope we're not trying to figure out who he is and more figure out who we are.”—Gwendolyn, 9/11: The Falling ManThe following morning…~~Harry watched the pale dawn trickle through the thick curtains in thin beams of light across Draco’s narrow face and had no desire to dispel the lazy grin that had fixed itself on his features as Draco began to stir.Harry wondered at the overrated nature of color when Draco's sharp gray eyes focused on him and sent a remembered shudder through his body. If a color so pale around a set of pupils that made black look bright could make Harry’s blood feel hot and burning beneath his skin, would a red rose or a perfect blue sky begin to fade in comparison? Harry was beginning to think so and his smile grew fonder. Draco smirked back at him. "You're not getting all soft on me now, are you, Harry?"Harry’s smile turned rueful but he did not respond. Draco gingerly sat up against the pillows, the sheets slipping down his naked torso to pool around his waist, and ran a hand through his platinum locks. “Have you figured out what happened last night?” Draco asked as he curved an arm around Harry’s shoulders and pulled him against his chest. Harry laid his head back, resting it on Draco’s shoulder, and shook his head. “Something shifted, though,” Draco continued, his voice quiet. “Can you feel it?”Harry thought of the near two hours he had spent silently waiting for Draco to wake up and felt his heart twist a little—in a pleasant sort of way…like sucking on spicy, sweet cinnamon candy. “Yes, I can feel it.”Then, as reality is wont to do during pleasant times, memories of the more disturbing part of the night before thundered through Harry’s critical mind, forcing a terrible frown to replace the good-natured smile. “I don’t like it when you sleep walk,” Harry said suddenly. “It doesn’t feel right.”“If only the world revolved around Harry Potter and all that he feels is right,” Draco murmured with a smile in his voice.“I’m serious,” Harry said, pushing off of the body he leant on and twisting so he could see Draco’s face. “You’re different. It’s hard to breathe when you get like that.”Draco’s gray eyes darkened. “What do you mean?”“It’s your eyes,” Harry murmured somberly. “They’re not your eyes.”~~The Ministry of Magic…**Ron stifled a yawn as he pulled another stack of paperwork towards him. That’s all it’s been for the past two weeks. Paperwork and then more paperwork. Ron finally knew how it felt to be the newbie. By rights, he should have endured this already, being one of the youngest Aurors the Ministry had ever employed. Yet, when he was partnered with Harry Potter, his life-long best mate and the Hero of the Wizarding World, he completely forewent the Newbie Harassment—filing everyone else’s paperwork, taking out the trash, being sent on pointless and ridiculous errands, and otherwise being treated like a common House Elf.Now, Ronald Weasley was sick unto death of paperwork. Yesterday, at a quarter to five, Ron had seriously considered burning every tree on the planet so that paper would no longer exist to lend a hand to creating paperwork. Luckily, after enduring the slowest fifteen minutes mankind has ever known, the clock struck five and Ron escaped the Ministry with his sanity; thus trees still exist and all is right in the world. It was Friday and the last day of the two-week suspension. Ron could barely wait to go and celebrate with Hermione and Harry. Ron would be able to see his fiancée at work again, he wouldn’t have to be the red-haired House Elf to Ministry any longer, and Harry could come back to work. All things considered, Ron mused as he dipped his quill and began writing on the top sheet, Ron was just glad he wasn’t the one who had to live with a slimy Slytherin Brat Prince for two weeks. Ron would choose the accursed paperwork any day. Ron glanced up when he heard a familiar voice speak a rushed apology amidst a crashing noise across the room. Raising his eyes above the line of cubicles separating him from the Minister of Magic’s office he spotted Hermione and her wild curls rushing towards the office with a letter in her hand. Hermione rapped on the Minister’s door and turned and met Ron’s bewildered gaze seconds before Scrimgeour admitted her inside, immediately closing the door behind her. Ron slowly stood to his feet and warily made his way towards Scrimgeour’s office, concerned by the frazzled look in his fiancée’s eyes. Upon reaching Scrimgeour’s door, Ron raised his hand to knock, curious and a little timid, afraid he would get in trouble for this too, when suddenly the door flew open.“WEASLEY, GET IN HERE!” Scrimgeour shouted before registering that Ron was merely inches away from him. Shell-shocked and mildly irritated, Ron wiped the Minister’s spittle from his freckled face and stepped into the office, where his fiancée tried—and failed—to hide her smile.~~Number Twelve Grimmauld Place...**Draco’s smile was quiet and secretive as he accepted his plate from Harry, who had insisted on making breakfast. The meal was light--eggs, fruit, and a bit of cheese--yet it was the endearingly forceful way that Harry had taken it upon himself to dismiss Slightly and make their morning meal himself. Of course, Harry’s words weren’t any less brittle and his glare any less shrewd, but his actions spoke volumes of how much he had softened towards Draco and what their relationship was evolving into seemingly of its own accord. It was as if what had transpired the night before had broken an invisible barrier inside of Harry; that maybe the cage the Boy Who Lived kept himself locked up in was finally open and a gentler side of him was peeking out. Draco had wondered, for years, what this side of Harry was like and had spent an entire Hogwarts education teeming with jealousy that Granger and Weasley were of the seldom few who had the privilege to experience it. That being said, Draco’s victory seemed abruptly bittersweet. Draco could never explain to Harry how terrified he had been seconds before Harry had broken his trance. Draco could not find it within himself to break the spell with the frightening news that he had heard Voldemort’s voice mocking him in his mind mere moments before Harry had struck him or of the unbearable pain that blossomed across his back as his limbs began to tremble when his eyes focused on Harry’s concerned face. Or, Merlin save his soul, the sweet, tantalizing voice belonging to a lone figure standing beside a roaring bonfire that called to him, urging him to go. Go where, Draco wasn’t sure. However, it petrified Draco to think that the closer he became to Harry, the more the mystery around his being thickened. Draco couldn’t and wouldn’t speak of this to Harry. How could he when his memory was supposed to have the answers and more than apparently didn’t? How could he when the sweet side of Harry Potter was finally being offered to Draco and this new mystery could possibly destroy everything fragile and bittersweet between them? How could he when it was Voldemort’s voice mocking him? Voldemort was supposed to be dead! He was supposed to have destroyed him for good!Draco had painstakingly planned and executed the assassination of the Dark Lord. He couldn’t have failed. Was the ghost of Tom Riddle haunting him? Was that his price now that Voldemort’s death somehow didn’t claim his life? Or was there a more terrible price to pay for cheating Prophecy? “Come back to earth,” Harry said with a rueful smile as he snapped his fingers in front of Draco’s face.“Hm?”“Do you like it?” Harry asked slowly as if he were repeating the question.“It’s truly scrumptious,” Draco replied as he picked up a strawberry and bit into it.Harry nearly choked on his orange juice at the odd reference to the Muggle film and shook his head. “What on earth is so funny?” Draco inquired with a quirk of his brow.“Nothing.” Harry glanced over at Slightly when she popped into the room. “Mr. Harry Potter sir,” Slightly murmured, “a letter for you, sir.”Harry nodded. “Let her in.”Slightly snapped her fingers and Hedwig flew into the dining hall, a letter attached to her leg. The Snowy Owl landed on Harry’s waiting arm and accepted a bit of cheese for her worries. Harry detached the letter, freed it from the envelope, and read it through.When he was finished, Harry stood to his feet and told Slightly to fetch his Auror’s cloak. Frowning, Harry met Draco’s gaze. “What is it?” Draco asked, suddenly feeling very cold. “It was from the Minister,” Harry said. “I must return at once.”Draco looked away. “Our two weeks is up, then?”Harry smiled a little. “I’m still the head of your case.”Draco nodded. “I’ll see you when you get back.”Harry accepted his cloak from Slightly when she popped back into the room and threw it on. “Would you like to come with me?”Startled, Draco raised a brow. “Ah, no. I’ll take you up on that offer when I am significantly less sore, thank you.”Harry grinned, despite himself, and shrugged. “I did try.”“I know you did.”“I’ll be right back,” Harry said after a moment, flashing a charming smile Draco hadn’t known Harry was capable of.~~The Ministry...**“He’s back.”The whispers echoed loudly as Harry made his way through the first level of the Ministry. It surprised him, and would never cease to, that so many would mark his comings and goings and the space of time in between. Of course, Harry would never let it show and his face remained neutral as he continued down the halls of staring faces and pointing fingers. By rights, he should be used to it by now. Finally, Harry reached Scrimgeour’s office and knocked once before the door opened. Inside, Harry permitted himself half a second to ponder why Hermione, Ron, and every Auror that had accompanied them two weeks ago in Wisconsin--Boyle, Nadger, Mackle, and Anin--were in the Minister’s Office waiting for him.Harry looked over at Scrimgeour, who was seated behind his desk, his hands clasped in front of him, and saluted, waiting for him, or anyone, really, to drop him a bone. Scrimgeour regarded Harry for a moment before nodding at Hermione.“Harry, the Americans have closed their Apparatal Borders.”“They, what?” Harry whirled around and stared hard at Hermione. The last, and only, time in Wizarding History that any country anywhere had closed their Apparatal Borders was when it was confirmed that Lord Voldemort was back from the dead and gathering his army some five years ago. Anin stepped forward, in his quiet sort of way. “That man at the Muggle station, the one you arrived with—““Deans,” Harry said immediately. “Yes, well, actually, his name is Maximus Cure,” Anin said. “And he was expelled from Sequoia’s School for American Witchcraft and Wizardry in his second year.”Harry’s mouth fell open seconds before he pressed his lips into a thin line, his green eyes blazing with understanding. “For what?”“Using the Inversion Enchantratem on another student and thereby causing the child’s death,” Nadger said. Scrimgeour watched Harry carefully as he took in this information. “That’s what happened at Willow Station,” Harry said. “Isn’t it?”Ron nodded solemnly and held Harry’s eye for a long time. Ron had read the report Harry had written about the hours before the accident at Willow Station. They both new that Draco had only been in that apartment for two days and Deans was present for both of them. In fact, Deans had expressed to Harry that “Smith” had convinced him to make his supper. Real nice. Harry took in a deep breath and turned back to the Minister. “Okay, so Deans is not a Muggle and tried to kill Malfoy. Why would the Americans close off the Borders over that?”Hermione stepped forward. “That’s just it, Harry. The Inversion Enchantratem isn’t designed to kill. It’s designed to separate a wizard from his magic.” “But Malfoy didn’t—““Draco Malfoy had focused so intently on recovering his memories,” Hermione interrupted, “that it was his memories that kept him connected to his magic.”“Though, I dare say,” Boyle interjected. “The Inversion Enchantratem was working hard to sever the connection. Remember those pulses of energy?”Harry nodded, still trying to piece the other puzzle together in his mind.Nadger lifted his chin. “What we have concluded is that something in the Horcrux you share with young Malfoy saved, not only his life, but his magic as well. If you hadn’t acted as you did, Malfoy would really have been a Muggle.”Harry frowned. “What on Earth would anyone want with Draco’s magic?”“Cure is a Wizard who cannot use his magic, Potter,” Mackle said. “If he used Malfoy’s, the Americans wouldn’t be able to tell when he was breaking the law.”“Which all seems a bit less severe than you are all making it out to be,” Harry said quietly. “Why have the Americans closed their Apparatal Borders?”Scrimgeour smiled approvingly and flicked his wrist to no one in particular. Ron stepped forward and the severity in his gaze made Harry apprehensive. “Cure spoke of one called The Gatherer,” Ron murmured. “The Gatherer hired Cure to separate Malfoy from his magic and kill him. Think, Harry, what would The Gatherer be gathering? Think.”Finally, Harry shut his eyes and heaved a sigh. “Merlin, its Death Eaters, isn’t it? The Gatherer is gathering Death Eaters.”“The Americans think so,” Ron answered. “And so do we.”Harry nodded and opened his eyes. “Interesting.”“What is?” Scrimgeour asked, the first thing he had said since Harry had arrived. “That The Gatherer wouldn’t just call himself the Dark Lord.”The Aurors present glanced around the office at one another. “Explain,” Anin demanded. “You think You-Know-Who is coming back? Why?”A darkness fell over Harry’s eyes. “Of course not. Voldemort is dead. My point is that this Gatherer rounding up Deatheaters seems suddenly separate from the assassination of Draco Malfoy. As if it is just on their to-do list. Why would they be re-assembling their army without a Dark Lord? Why now?”Scrimgeour pointed to Mackle and Anin. “Figuring that out is their job. Nadger and Boyle will be their seconds and in control of civilian distress. Potter, you and Weasley will continue to keep Mr. Malfoy safe. Of course, if there is any information to be had from young Mr. Malfoy, by all means, get it out of him. Granger will continue to monitor the Apparatal Borders. Anything new arises, inform me immediately. Questions?”Silence.“Good, now get out of my office.” Scrimgeour sat back in his chair and watched with shrewd eyes as Harry lingered near the door until everyone else had gone.“Potter?”“Minister, Voldemort’s not coming back,” Harry said, his eyes blazing with green fire.“And if He does?” Harry was silent for a fraction of a second before he smiled grimly. “I’ll take care of it.”~~Number Twelve Grimmauld Place…**Severus Snape, his godfather, had warned him against the portrait of Lady Walburga Black, Draco’s great aunt. And Draco had heeded it. Knowing that stirring up the ghosts of his mother’s line would be less than opportune unless absolutely necessary. The Black Legacy was long and pure, due to their watchful eyes and merciless, unforgiving ways. The Legacy reached far into history and knowledge that seemed to be lost to mankind, the Black’s knew. All he needed was a clue. One clue and he could unravel the rest of this mystery himself without disturbing the ghosts of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. One clue. She would know he was a Blood Traitor. She died long before his birth, but she would know all the same. It is their way, the dead communing with the dead. His aunt had shown mercy once, the day he was exiled. And if there was anyone in the Black Legacy who had the most right to loathe Draco Malfoy, it was Bellatrix LeStrange. Perhaps, just perhaps, Lady Black would show mercy too. All he needed was one clue.Just one.Draco pulled back the curtain and regarded the portrait.~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~A Secret Prophecy~Later that afternoon…~~“Narcissa’s boy.”Draco wasn’t altogether certain what he expected the woman to do or say when he pulled back the heavy curtain. Scream, perhaps, as she was rumored to do. His godfather had told him of the incoherent screeches she would afford the Blood Traitors that had taken over her household at Sirius Black’s behest and was surprised at the heavy calm that surrounded her being. Walburga Black wore a heavy laced Victorian gown, the colors dark and somber, and an exquisite cameo fixed at her throat. The tilt of her chin was cultured, her smile quiet but not pleasant, and her hands delicately laid over one another atop her lap as she sat in a beautiful Henry IV chair, the gilded base elegant but not overbearing. Purebloods always knew exactly how to arrange their surroundings to accentuate their own majesty and never over-shout it.“My lady,” Draco murmured respectfully, affording her a courtly bow before straightening, his hands clasped tightly behind him. “The Lion whispers to me of a growing closeness between you and the Blood Traitor that has inherited my estate,” Lady Black said, her eyes cool and piercing. “Yes, my lady,” Draco replied, years of training keeping his voice level and his body calm even at the revelation that the painting of the lion in his room had been gossiping to his great aunt. “It is true then?”“Yes, my lady.”“A passing dalliance, no doubt?”Draco wondered where this was going. “Of course, my lady.”“And you will break his heart, then?”Draco relaxed his features. “Certainly, my lady.”“I see.” Lady Walburga Black turned her face away, suddenly looking younger. She almost seemed disappointed.Minutes passed and Draco waited for Lady Black to say something else. Finally, after nearly ten minutes of watching Walburga Black stare off into the distance, Draco could no longer contain himself. “Lady,” Draco said, “Does my mother visit you?”“She speaks to me,” Lady Black murmured, her piercing gaze returning to rest on Draco’s upturned face. “I am but a painting, dear boy, but I can hear her.”“Lady, please,” Draco said, trying not to sound too earnest. “How fares my mother?”Lady Black’s eyes softened into something more akin to sadness. “She grieves for you.”Those four words hit Draco like a slap in he face and he stepped back. “Pardon?”“Narcissa grieves for you, boy,” Lady Black repeated, the sadness gone and replaced by something shielded and cruel. “Her son will pass soon…in accordance with the Prophecy.”Draco frowned. “What Prophecy?”Lady Walburga Black’s eyes blazed, as if his words were a direct insult to her. “Insolent boy! The Host doesn’t know his own Prophecy?”“Forgive me, my lady,” Draco said, giving her another bow, one lower and apologetic. “I have been asleep for many years.” His heart raced and his blood beat in his ears as he waited for Lady Black’s next words.“A Pact is made on the Quest for Immortality…a God of Darkness relinquishes the Seven Keys…a Promise fulfilled in a Pure Womb…a Child born to Heal severed Lines…a Marking of the Near-Man…when the Dark Lord perishes at the Hands of Love half-remembered…The Gatherer is hosted and calls in the Night…a Sacrifice is laid on the Alter of Justice…and Purity wears the Face of Maul…Darkness reigns over the Land of Men…so be quiet Child…for the Black Tulpa fears only the Eighth Key.”~~The Ministry…**“So…do you want to take Malfoy in shifts now?”“What?!” Harry exclaimed a little too loudly, his head jerking up to look at Ron incredulous.Ron spread his hands. “Well, I just figured you’d want a little time off with the little git. Two weeks is a long time.”Harry forced a laugh and ran a hand through his jet-black hair. “No, its not nearly as bad as all that. I need you to be my eyes and ears here at the Ministry, Ron. I’ll inform the minute anything comes up.”“All right,” Ron said, not even slightly attached to the idea of babysitting Malfoy when he could be spending quality time with his fiancée. “Even if you are a glutton for punishment.”“If you only knew. How is Hermione?”Ron leant over his desk and plucked a paperclip to fasten a set of papers. “Oh, she’s fine.”“She still vexed with me?”Ron shook his head. “You should know by know that staying angry at you is one of the hardest things she can do.”“True,” Harry said with a smile as he sat on the edge of Ron’s desk. “Are you sure Malfoy’ll stay put if you leave him alone for this long? How do you know he won’t take off or something?”Harry hesitated before answering, knowing he couldn’t possible tell Ron he was shagging him. “I trust him.”“You’re completely mental.”“I am not.”“Mad. Utterly, mate.”“Ron…”~~Number Twelve Grimmauld Place...**Lady Walburg Black would speak no more on the subject and left her portrait, leaving Draco trembling in the middle of the hall. His mind was blank save for the words of the Prophecy ringing through his mind. He was shocked, realizing, even as Lady Black was uttering the words, that they were the same that Voldemort had mocked him with the night before. Soon, his trembling became violent and his anger grew. Shouting, Draco picked up a chair and threw it across the hall. Seconds later, the entire hall was a mess as Draco tried to spend his rage by breaking and hurling anything within reach. When there was nothing left to break, Draco collapsed to his knees and wept. His tears were angry, defiant at what that Prophecy meant, knowing, as he had always suspected, that he was not merely born, he was bred. He was the fulfillment of a promise, the host. He would become the one thing that he had fought to destroy. The Dark Lord. Unless…unless he could find the Eighth Key. The Eighth Key. Abruptly, Draco’s tears vanished and he set his chin. That’s it, then. He would have to decipher the Prophecy, find the Eighth Key, and figure out a way to stop this whole thing before it took him over. No use crying. Draco stood to his feet and called Slightly to clean up the hall. He had no idea how long he had…but if he ran out of time, he would make sure Harry Potter killed him. Therefore, he would have to keep Harry close and thinking everything was fine. He needed Harry’s resources and protection. Draco smiled, knowing that Harry’s hate for evil would make him the perfect candidate to end it all of things went astray. It was perfect, in a strange sort of way. Bad faith.~~Number Twelve Grimmauld Place...**Harry hung up his cloak in the hall and strolled quickly to the staircase. “Malfoy!” he called but received no answer. Harry jogged up the steps, taking two or three at a time. He found Draco in the Study up to his elbows in scrolls and dusty books. “Looking for something?” Harry asked when he entered the room. Draco sent him a guarded look but shook his head as he stood to his feet. “No, just humoring myself.”“Ah.” Harry walked over to his desk and picked up a file, flipping through the pages intently.Draco stood to the side and waited patiently.Finally, Harry pulled a photograph from the file a lifted it up. “Do you remember this man?”Draco raised a brow. “Of course I do. He was my Social Worker, Michael Deans.”“His real name is Maximus Cure.”“Oh,” Draco murmured after a moment. “He was hired to steal your magic and kill you.”Draco snorted. “He failed then, didn’t he?”“Miserably,” Harry conceded with a grin. Harry put the file away and went to stand before Draco. “Here’s the fun part. The American Aurors have Cure in custody and claim that he was hired by someone calling himself The Gatherer.”There are many skills necessary to tell and maintain the perfect lie. Some would even claim it to be a science. Severus Snape claimed as much. His ability to convincingly lie kept him alive when he had the most dangerous role in the Order of the Phoenix as a double spy. Severus passed down the secrets to his godson, teaching him how to maintain an even heartbeat, to control the iris dilation in his eyes, and school his features into one of mild interest but complete innocence. Severus had taught him to look up and to the left as if trying to recollect some vital fraction of retainable memory that may, even in the slightest, be helpful, and then look the opposite person directly in the eye whenever actually delivering the lie. The eye contact is never to convince the recipient of honesty, it is always to challenge the recipient to disqualifying their claim. Most are ashamed of eye contact and the challenge is often misinterpreted as confidence. And so, when Harry asked Draco if the name “The Gatherer” meant anything to him, Draco’s reply was even and convincing; the perfect delivery of a lie. And Draco’s heart twisted guiltily. It’s for the best, he reminded himself. “And what is this person gathering,” Draco asked.“Death Eaters, we think,” Harry replied, turning away and pouring himself a glass of water. “Death Eaters to kill me?”“A few think so.”“But not you,” Draco stated.Harry shook his head and took a sip of water. “I’m beginning to think there’s more to it. I was one of three who devised the plan to send you to America. That someone knew you were there outside of Ron, Hermione, and I must mean that there is a spy inside the Ministry. Why spend so much time and effort turning you into a Muggle?”Draco looked suddenly as if he had eaten a bug. “I beg your pardon?”“Oh, right, Cure poisoned you with the Inversion Echantratem in an effort to steal your magic.”Draco almost smiled. Irony at its best. “Oh, I see. No magic tends to mean Muggle. Quaint. I’ve never heard of the Inversion Enchantratem.”“Before today, neither had I,” Harry replied. “Well, again, it just all seems so much more involved for it to be just an attempt to assassinate you.”“I agree,” Draco murmured, inclining his head a little. “And the Americans have closed their Apparatal Borders.”Draco was silent for a moment. “That ought to keep the world nice and calm.”“Do you think they overreacted?” “I don’t know enough about anything to say.”“You seem awfully calm.”Draco’s eyes were blazing when they met Harry’s. “What do you want me to do? Dance a jig or tear my hair out in fear?”“I just thought your interest would be slightly more piqued at the notion that someone is organizing the surviving Death Eaters into an army,” Harry said slowly, wondering why Draco seemed angry all of a sudden.Draco shrugged. “Am I not safe here with you, oh hero?”“It’s not about you, Malfoy. It’s the possibility that these Death Eaters think their Dark Lord is—““Don’t you fucking say it,” Draco interrupted heatedly. “Voldemort is dead. I killed him. He is never coming back.”“What has gotten into you?” Harry asked, reaching out a hand that Draco brushed away. Draco paced for a moment, trying to reign in his temper. He must have less time than he thought. It was all happening way too fast. When he finally looked back at Harry, his heart twisted again at the look behind Harry’s brave, green eyes. “I wish to see Pansy.”“I don’t think—““I am not asking for your permission, Harry,” Draco said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m asking for your help. I wish to see Pansy.”Draco watched Harry take his words like blows and a confused, helpless look crept into that true green of his eyes before something stony and hard replaced it. “Fine, I can arrange that,” Harry said, turning to leave the study. “We’ll leave at dawn.”~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~Understanding Pansy~“It breaks my heart, this illusion of separation. Look at what happened today.” ~Tim Randolph, watching the Massacre at Virginia Tech coverage. April 16, 2007. “We are all angels with a single wing. It is only when we embrace one another that we can truly fly.” ~Anonymous, 1999. Graffiti painting in Korea Town, CA. The next morning…~~By ten o’clock, Harry was ready to strangle one Draco Malfoy. Harry had risen early, before the sun had come up, and Apparated to the Ministry to get the necessary permission to move Draco. Even with the early start, Harry had been in high spirits. Of course, Draco would never apologize for something as small as hurting Harry’s feelings, but, in his own way, Harry felt Draco did so silently when the blond had urged him to return to the bed they shared the night before, holding him sweetly until he relented. It made Harry smile, even as Scrimgeour lectured him on the necessity to take every precaution if Malfoy was insisting on visiting an old family friend, that Draco would feel the need to do…something to ease the near stifling tension that had sprung up between them the instant Pansy Parkinson’s name was mentioned. Although, in all honesty, Harry had no real right to be upset that Draco would choose to confide his secret distress to his ex-fiancée. And Harry knew something was bothering Draco, it swam like murky water behind his gray eyes. Harry supposed it was a Pureblood thing. Perhaps whatever it was that upset Draco was only something that Pansy would understand. Or…maybe it was that Draco knew Harry wouldn’t. Either way, after bartering Scrimgeour for the Portkey that would transfer them directly to the Parkinson estate Pansy and Pandora now lived and sending the Parkinson women an owl alerting them to a visit, Harry had cooled his temper and re-established his patience, knowing that anything that would happen, would happen, and that Harry could expect nothing less than the continual ‘touch-and-go’ until this whole mess was sorted out. However, upon returning to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Harry discovered Draco standing by the door with two brooms, insisting that they fly to the Parkinson estate. “I haven’t been outside in two weeks, Potter,” Draco had said, setting his chin in that insufferable way. “I am going to milk it for everything its worth.” Instantly, Harry’s black mood slid back into place and, with an exasperated sigh, he Apparated back to the Ministry, bartered once again with the Minister of Magic, had to endure yet another lecture, and returned to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place fairly steaming. Wisely, Draco did not speak a word to the irritated young Auror until they were astride their brooms and flying smoothly through the air towards the countryside. “Did you eat breakfast?” Harry shot Draco a single baleful look before resuming his glower in the direction they were headed. Pursing his lips, Draco leaned forward on his broom and twisted upside down, edging over until he was flying directly beneath Harry. “Look, Potter,” Draco said slyly, carefully locking his ankles around his broom and releasing his hands from the neck of the broom until he dangled beneath Harry, upside down, by his knees. “No hands.”“Knock it off, Malfoy,” Harry muttered, trying not to grin. Truly, it was probably the funniest thing he had ever seen Draco do. “Race me,” Draco demanded, pulling himself up and twisting again so that he flew parallel to Harry’s broom. Below them, the city began to shrink smaller and smaller and the clouds darted between them. Harry snorted. “It won’t be much of a race.”Draco sighed. “All right, I’ll be fair. You can have a head start.”“Please; you haven’t flown in nearly three years.”“Natural talent never dies, Potter.”Harry laughed, feeling his terrible mood begin to recede. “You’re such a prat. Try to keep up.”Suddenly, Harry leaned in and his broom surged forward. With a knowing smile, Draco followed, using every trick he knew just to keep the pace Harry was setting. They spiraled, twisted, dodged, and dropped, the race becoming more and more like a Seeker competition as the morning faded to midday around them. The air was cool on their faces and the wind just on the one side of harsh, but on they flew; relishing in their competition, their need to be first, their love for flying, and all the rest. At one point, Harry paused in the air, glancing around him to gather his bearings. Draco reared in next to him, his impeccable hair wild and askew, his cheeks rosy and his eyes bright and alive. Finally spotting the Parkinson Manor, Harry grinned once at Draco before bending his angle on the broom and plummeting towards the ground in a sheer drop. “Bloody show off,” Draco muttered, rolling his eyes, before following suit…albeit, at a much less severe angle. ~~Draco’s senses were overwhelmed the instant they stepped inside the manor. As they followed their House Elf guide—a likable little fellow with bright green eyes and trimmed ear hair—through the main hall, Draco was buffeted with memories of his own home and, Merlin, the way it smelled during times of mourning. Around every corner, there were sticks of incense, heavy with the scent of frankincense and myrrh, lit and smoking, candles burning brightly, and the draperies black and deep, deep purple velvet, causing the trademark Parkinson gilded furnishings to bask in a wallowing, somber glow. The figures in the tall paintings of the main hall gazed down at them sternly, watching their passing with alert and thoughtful eyes. Draco could feel the grief in this place seeping into his skin and, glancing sidelong at Harry, he knew the young Auror was oblivious to it. Yet, it felt like coming home. The likable, green-eyed House Elf instructed them to wait inside a reserved sitting room near the back end of the East Wing, furnished in earthy tones of green and gold, and Draco wasted no time to find a gilded mirror and fix his wind blown hair. Harry strolled over to a small table and poured himself a cup of tea, hoping it would warm him from the chill of the wet spring outside and snickering a little at Draco’s vanity. Minutes passed as they waited. Eventually, Harry frowned and became irritated. Pandora had never had him wait this long. Turning towards the door, Harry froze when he heard the sound of glass shattering and the distinct hiss of a woman’s gasp. In the doorway, the light from the hall behind her illuminating her frame, stood Pansy Parkinson, her blue-black hair coiled at her neck and twisted into a loose caul and her dark eyes as wide as saucers. Guiltily, Harry glanced towards Draco, knowing that in the letter he had sent the Parkinson’s, alerting them to their visit, he had not specified his guest. As far as Pansy knew, prior to this moment, her ex-fiancée was still in a coma at St. Mungo’s. Draco did not return the look and gazed steadily at Pansy, waiting for her to process through her shock. He knew there was an enormous quantity of things that could be said, but some things should be left to the silence. “Draco,” Pansy finally breathed. Draco’s severe gray eyes softened a fraction and he inclined his head. “Hello, Pansy. You look well.”In three long strides so quick, Harry barely saw her move, Pansy was in front of the Slytherin Prince and hitting him so hard across the face the sound reverberated through the room with a loud echo. Shocked, Harry watched Pansy step back and observe Draco wipe the blood from his mouth with a knuckle, her intense glare like dark fire. “You scared me to death!” Pansy hissed. “Why would you do something so stupid?”Draco opened his mouth to reply but Pansy struck him again with equal force. Sighing, Draco turned his face back to her, his eyes stern and unrepentant, silently musing on how one week could have him being struck in face so frequently, as she continued to glare. Pansy raised her hand again, but this time Draco caught the blow by her wrist. A battle of wills ensued and on they stared, seemingly forever. Then, without warning, Pansy Parkinson burst into tears and collapsed into Draco’s embrace. Draco held her tightly and stared straight ahead of him, the pain in his eyes wrenching. Pandora, whom Harry had not seen enter the room, quietly touched Harry’s elbow and led him into the hall. Draco did not once meet Harry’s gaze. Silently, Pandora closed the doors behind her. ~~The Gatherer was cold and wet as pale eyes watched the contact return to the Ministry of Magic, but did not feel it. The Gatherer could tell the spy thought it would be disconcerting to know their target was on the move. But, no. Every mouse should have the chance to at least try and find the cheese. Their chase hadn’t even really begun. At least not on The Gatherer’s part. The Dark One, however, was already making His move. ~~Draco watched, half-interested, while the likable little green-eyed fellow of a House Elf popped in and swept up the broken glass of Pansy’s tea cup as the young woman continued to sob and tremble in his arms. His heart twisted, knowing that her relief was so bitter, it was nearly unbearable. Draco knew he had been a coward towards his only two…somewhat friends. Not friends in the fashion one would usually consider, but, for a Pureblood Prince, they were the best money could by. It just happened that three of them grew fond of one another. That is to say, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson. A coward indeed, Draco thought miserably as a shaking Pansy clung to the folds of his robes and buried her face in his neck. He had not confided in them his plan. He had simply disappeared, knowing that they both would persuade their families to hold him in the sanctuary of their homes had he asked…knowing that they would fear him dead and grieve him when he was gone. He had left for Asia without a note nor an owl. And upon his return, Draco knew with utter certainty that he would not have to pay for the mistakes of his severed friendships because he would die a martyr and never, ever have to see the look of betrayal and pain on their faces. Draco Malfoy believed himself to be an iconic fool. Draco had avoided the subject of Pansy Parkinson since the second his memories returned to him for this very reason. And Blaise…Well, Merlin save him if Blaise Zabini held a grudge. Though, Draco mused as Pansy’s sniffles began to quiet and she relaxed her death’s grip on his robes, Blaise was of the loyal sort. And he was also of the eccentric sort, which might have a wild card hidden in there somewhere. Perhaps that wild card may one day save their friendship. Then again, maybe Draco would never know. Pansy gently stepped away, her eyes lowered, and dabbed at her face with a handkerchief until her tears were fully dried. Then…she smiled at Draco in a quiet, muted fashion. “You’re alive,” she murmured. “I am,” Draco said, and his heart nearly broke all over again. “For how long this time?” Pansy’s voice was soft but her eyes were hard as stone. Pansy Parkinson can never be accused of being weak. Draco smiled sadly, but to Pansy, it was the sweetest thing she had seen in many years. “You can never rid yourself of me, Pansy. I imagine that is what your tears are about.”“You’re lying to me,” Pansy stated, her whole body suddenly becoming alert. Pansy peered at Draco through her dark, thick lashes. “You know I can always tell, Draco.”“That’s why I’m here, actually,” Draco said quietly, holding her gaze in a way only Draco Malfoy could. “I need to tell you something.”~~Pandora watched Harry feign calm for many minutes but caught his uneasy glances towards the door. Smiling in her alluring way, Pandora conjured a fire in a fireplace near the end of the hall and invited Harry to sit with her beside it. Conceding silently, Harry continued to seem distracted by whatever thoughts raced through his head and around again. Pandora could see the shadows of those thoughts flickering behind the young Auror’s bright green eyes. Such lovely eyes. “He’s smitten you already, has he?” Pandora said, breaking the silence with her melodious voice. Harry snapped his head towards her, startled nearly out of his skin. “Excuse me?”“Really,” Pandora said, leaning gracefully back into her seat, her dark blue eyes luminous and knowing. “It isn’t so surprising. You’ve been fascinated by him since he saved your life.”Harry’s lips flattened into a straight line before he answered. “Pandora, don’t go opening your box of tricks. I’m trying to keep him alive.”Pandora laughed, the sound like tinkling crystal. “No, dear boy. This isn’t about my box of tricks, is it?”Confusion flickered through Harry’s bright beryl eyes and Pandora leaned forward. “Tell me,” Pandora said in a throaty whisper, her smile deep and mysterious. “Has Draco been cruel?”~~“Well, let’s see it then.”“See what?”“The Mark the Dark Lord branded your spine with,” Pansy said with an impatient tap of her foot. “Why would that be important?” Draco asked as he slipped from his flying robes and set them to the side. “’…The Marking of the Near-Man…’” Pansy quoted. “Maybe there is a reason why the Dark Lord had you Marked so young. Also, you said it hurts when you sleep walk and you can still see it when you look in the mirror.” “”Why would me seeing it be strange?” Draco asked as he began to unbutton his shirt. “The Dark Marks have faded, Draco,” Pansy said in a quiet voice. “When Voldemort died, when you killed him, the Dark Marks on Death Eaters began to disappear. That’s why it’s so hard to catch them all.”“Really?’“Potter never told you?”“Oh, he may have,” Draco said with a slight smile as he shrugged out of his shirt and stood before Pansy bare-chested. “He says many things.”“Are you fond of him now?” Pansy asked with forced nonchalance as she circled around Draco and observed his back. “Would it matter to you if I was?” Draco inquired as Pansy pressed her cool fingertips between his shoulder blades and traced the tattoo with them softly. “It shouldn’t, should it?” Pansy replied. “I refuse to be the person to tell you how to feel, Pansy,” Draco said as Pansy removed her fingers and wrote something down on a bit of parchment. “But I stand by what I said to you at Hogwarts.”Draco turned around and looked at Pansy, who refused to meet his gaze and stared unseeing at the parchment in her hands. “I will always carry a part of your heart,” Pansy recollected, her head bent and her lashes sweeping low on her cheek. “But I can never have the whole of it.”Moments passed in silence before she finally looked back at Draco. Surprisingly, her eyes were soft but dry, the epitome of the brave face she always wore for him. But her voice, when she spoke, was hard and unwavering. “Your honesty is crueler than your lies, Draco Malfoy,” Pansy said. “I almost pity the one you do give your heart to. You have yet to relinquish your hold on mine. Here.” Pansy handed the parchment over Draco. Draco took it and his eyes swept over the page. Runes. Old runes like none he had ever encountered were written on the scroll. “What is this?” Draco demanded. “They run the length of the coiling serpent,” Pansy explained before singling out some other markings. “These runes here are inside the eye sockets of the skull. I don’t recognize the markings, but I do know no one else’s Dark Mark had these.”“You’re certain?”“Yes, I am.” A knock sounded and they turned in time to see Pandora pull open the gilded doors. She smiled sweetly and asked if Draco would stay for dinner. Draco did not answer right away. His arm was frozen half way on its journey to retrieve his shirt and his eyes were locked with two icy green orbs belonging to one Harry Potter who stood some ten feet behind Pansy’s aunt. Draco cursed himself silently, knowing Harry would come to a million conclusions for why he was without a shirt while alone with Pansy Parkinson before allowing him to explain. Draco took a deep breath and finished collecting and putting back on his clothes. It didn’t matter. It wouldn’t, would it?But then, that’s what Draco told himself about Blaise and Pansy before he left for Asia. “No”, Draco said as he righted his robes around his shoulders. “Potter and I must pay a visit to Hogwarts before our return.”The surprised look on Harry’s face was actually quite worth the sour mood his old school rival turned sometimes-lover immediately slipped into; at least, in Draco perspective. ~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~Nostalgia, An Even Darker Journey~“A further major way to distinguish different memory functions is whether the content to be remembered is in the past, retrospective memory, or whether the content is to be remembered in the future, prospective memory. Thus, retrospective memory as a category includes semantic memory and episodic/autobiographical memory. In contrast, prospective memory is memory for future intentions, or remembering to remember (Winograd, 1988).”Shortly after…~~The flight to Hogwarts was quiet. Very quiet. Wisely, Draco let Harry fume. Well, wise as Draco would consider it. If he instigated yet another argument with Harry by trying to explain, Draco knew he might end up telling him about the Prophecy and the runes and the whispers of Lord-fucking-Voldemort in his ear. Draco couldn’t think of a single thing worse than doing that and, in his mind’s eye, could already see that cold, hateful Harry Potter that he had loathed for years slide back into place. Something twisted inside Draco’s stomach when he thought of that and he shuddered as they neared the castle. Despite himself, Draco was quickly becoming attached to the young Auror. In fact, a part of him was less interested in finding the Eighth Key for his own sake and more interested in finding it so the one flying on his left would never be disgusted with him again. Draco didn’t like to think of what that meant or even what Harry less-than-subtle but silent jealousy meant either because protecting him with this lie could permanently sever whatever they may have had if the present situation had not made itself known. Draco was more than aware of the consequences his actions with Harry could have but could not fathom another way. Or, rather, another way where his bloody pride wasn’t at stake. And no one could claim that Draco Malfoy didn’t have his pride. He had killed Voldemort once, he could stop him again. He could do it and he did not have to endanger anyone else while doing so. At least, of course, this is what Draco told himself to keep the guilt at bay; though, the burning in his lightening bolt scar had returned and ached the entirety of their flight to Hogwarts. Silently, Harry landed outside of Hogwarts’ Northern Gate and did not glance behind his rigid shoulder as Draco followed suit behind him. The air was thick between them and the Horcrux they shared continued to burn and tingle as they made their way to the castle on foot. Upon reaching the castle’s entrance, Harry hung back as Draco entered. Briefly, Draco closed his eyes and saw the Quidditch Pitch burning in Harry’s mind. Nodding, he too continued forward without looking back as Harry headed to the Pitch. Draco made his way through the castle, avoiding students so as not to be recognized, and descended into the Dungeon where he found Severus returning to his office from a Potions class. Severus pursed his lips and regarded his godson with disdain. “Have you terrorized Potter so fully that you are already escaping his establishment?”Draco’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes and he shrugged minutely, picking up the picture of his mother that Severus kept on his desk, glancing at it briefly, and set it down again. “Actually, he’s headed for the Quidditch Pitch.”“I see.”“Do you?” Draco walked the expanse of his godfather’s office and studied the books lining the far wall. “Draco, what are you looking for?” Severus asked directly, in absolutely no mood for his godson’s games. “A book.”“I can see that. What book?”“A book with restricted information,” Draco replied coyly, continuing to peer at book after book. “That is what the Restricted Section is for,” Severus said, feigning wit.“Precisely,” Draco said, turning to face his godfather with a false smile. Severus regarded Draco suspiciously. “What do you want with the Restricted Section?”“I’m studying runes.”Severus snorted. “Runes do not exactly qualify for the Restricted Section, Draco. No more of this. What are you doing here?”Draco pointed an accusatory finger at the Hogwarts Potions master. “This is exactly why I do not bother being honest. No one ever believes me. I’m look for certain runes and their meaning. I need the key.” “What runes?” Severus demanded, holding his ground. Severus never doubted or mistrusted Draco, but his godson was, in fact, a Slytherin Prince. Better to err on the side of caution with this one. Draco made a show of sighing. “I promise I’ll show you the runes only once I am ready to leave.”“For time.” It wasn’t a question. They both knew how their minds worked. “What’s a five minute advance to you, godfather?” Draco asked with deceiving softness. “You are awfully clever.”Severus rolled his eyes and pulled a key from his desk drawer. Then, the Potions master jotted a note onto a small sheet of parchment and closed the message with his personal seal before handing both to Draco. “Be sure I do not regret this, Draco,” Severus said in that deadly quiet of his voice. “It is too soon for you to be starting trouble already.”Draco merely smiled and left, a shadow as dark as the one trailing his feet swimming behind his eyes. ~~Outside, letting the cool breeze ruffle his flying robes and sift through his messy hair, Harry Potter stood on the Quidditch Pitch and lifted his face to the sky. In his hand he held the Golden Snitch, whom Madame Hooch had entrusted to him for a bit of therapeutic flying. Of course, the look Madame Hooch had given Harry had been on a certain side of dubious when he had arrived for the Snitch, but then, being Harry Potter did have its perks and she handed the Quidditch Case over to him without any interfering questions. Harry took in a deep breath, trying to dispel any thoughts of Draco and the unwarranted feelings of frustration that had surfaced sense the day before, only to be heightened by the sight of him and Pansy so comfortable* with one another. And what was more, Harry’s signature temper was beginning to slip past its restraints at suddenly being just someone along for the ride as Draco went on his own little mission of secrets and whispers. A part of him felt used, another part felt ridiculous for feeling so, and the rest shook with frustration. After all, Harry had known it would mean nothing but trouble to sleep with Draco Malfoy. He had known it. What he hadn’t expected, however, was that it would be him, not Draco, who would have the emotional attachment. Harry had really thought that it would be like Cruent and purely physical consent to a heightened sensation for an hour two, not amazing sex with feelings and tenderness thrown into the messy mix. Harry hadn’t been prepared for that. And now Draco seemed to be changing yet again right before his eyes. It almost seemed he was turning back into the Malfoy that Harry had always took him for. Why would he do that?Harry opened his eyes and released the Snitch. ~~Blaise Zabini uncrossed his legs and stood, putting out his cigarette as he did so. He glanced once at the pair of women sleeping serenely in his bed before strolling across the room and opening a far window, where an owl perched with a message for him. Nodding his thanks to the owl, Blaise took the letter and read it. Slowly, Blaise’s handsome face concentrated into a deepening frown as his eyes roamed down the handwritten scroll. It was a letter from Pansy Parkinson. Draco was awake and wandering around London with one Harry Potter in tow. Idiot. Blaise shook his head in mild disbelief as he finished the letter and burned it when he was through. Locating his pants and putting them on, Blaise decided it was time to return to England. Pansy had, after all, urged him to go “Underground”. ~~Draco turned in a circle, eyeing the stacks of forbidden books and scrolls that piled high in the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts Library, and tried to decide where to begin. The Prophecy replayed in his head for a thousandth time, teasing him with a hidden answer just out of reach, holding back the key as it held back its laughter. “A Pact is made on the Quest for Immortality…a God of Darkness relinquishes the Seven Keys…a Promise fulfilled in a Pure Womb…a Child born to Heal severed Lines…a Marking of the Near-Man…when the Dark Lord perishes at the Hands of Love half-remembered…The Gatherer is hosted and calls in the Night…a Sacrifice is laid on the Alter of Justice…and Purity wears the Face of Maul…Darkness reigns over the Land of Men…so be quiet Child…for the Black Tulpa fears only the Eighth Key.” As his clear grey eyes took in his surroundings, Draco breathed in deeply, filling his lungs with apprehension and stale air, and stepped forward to begin his search. For the first hour or so, Draco concentrated solely on puzzling out the strange runes that were etched into his back. A few of the symbols were actually quite simple; being rustic connotations for words such as ‘of’ and ‘the’. The easy transliteration pretty much ended there, however. It took Draco longer that he would have liked, poring over cracked and brittle pages and squinting against their pluming clouds of dust, to translate one rune into ‘chosen’ and then the next rune into ‘host’; which, really, could pass for three symbols that damn near overlapped one another into the Land of Indecipherable. A rune further down the list finally turned out to be ‘black’, once Draco found the common thread of vowels per swish. The remaining two runes seemed nigh impossible to translate and Draco, muttering to himself in irritation, pushed the pile of runic documents he had collected away from him at the desk he stood over, causing a cloud of dust to rise and nearly suffocate him. Draco dropped his head in his hands and groaned. When he lifted his silvery head, Draco’s pale eyes fell on a large vellum book that had toppled over. Frowning to himself, he stood and retrieved the heavy book. Turning the pages, Draco read a few lines here and there about this dark creature and that evil force and all manner of foreboding presences until his hands stilled over a torn page. There, at the top of the aged and ripped document, was a sequence of runes identical to some of the markings on his back…and one of which he had already translated. Beneath the runes was written: “Maul, the Black Tulpa.”Draco heart thudded in his chest as he recognized the words and peered closer to read the rest that wasn’t missing. “Maul, whose name must not be spoken aloud, is the Black Tulpa. When tainted souls of evil unmentionable are released from bodily confines, it is directed to the Black Tulpa; where it swirls in an abyss of darkness. This darkness was so dense that it spawned a mind like a demon, bearing a heart of hatred and contempt. This being was named Maul, which must not be spoken aloud, and given the Seven Keys. The Seven Keys…”And there, it ended. The rest was torn and missing. Draco cursed aloud and turned the page in an attempt to track the information. Failing, Draco turned back and used the translation to piece together the markings etched into his skin so long ago by Voldemort. When he finished, Draco’s mind became a muddled blanket of terrible fear and his blood ran cold. The translation read: “Chosen Host of Maul, the Black Tulpa.”Draco stared at the words written in his thin scrawl across the scrap piece of parchment, blood roaring in his ears, his mind screaming denial while his heart sank hard and heavy with acknowledgment. “All things considered,” a snaky voice whispered in his ear, “you’ll probably make a better Dark Lord than you did a Death Eater.” Draco whirled around, eyes wide and heart pounding. There was no one there. “Your father’s greatest pride,” the voice came again, “was that you would become the host of Maul.”Draco stood shaking in the middle of the Restricted Section, the hairs on the back of his neck raised as he recognized Voldemort’s voice. “Who is Maul to you, Voldemort?” Draco hissed through his teeth. “Already you,” the ghost of Voldemort whispered again, the sound seeming to come from everywhere at once, echoing madly through his mind. “Already you.”“Where are you?” Draco demanded, turning around again and expecting Voldemort’s ghost to materialize. “In you,” Voldemort whispered, those to words seeming to reverberate off the walls and dance in circles around Draco, the Chosen Host of Maul. “In you.”Draco clutched his head and clenched his eyes shut. “No.”Somewhere, Voldemort laughed. “Bellatrix knew. I never expected her to care. She mourned you.”“No,” Draco said again. “No.”“You will become a darker Lord than I ever was, little dragon.”“Get out of my head,” Draco spat, panic closing his throat. “Get out of my head!”~~A searing pain laced through Harry’s forehead and he missed the Snitch yet again. Truth be told, Harry was chasing the Snitch half-heartedly anyway; but, of course, that was no reason not to become even more irritated with one Draco Malfoy, who was undoubtedly the cause of the pain in his mind. That being said, faster than it had come, the pain receded to a small ache; and Harry continued to fly in lazy circles around the Quidditch Pitch until he spotted Draco approaching the field.Nimbly, Harry shot further into the sky and arching to the left to catch the Snitch before making his decent to greet his ward. Landing, Harry stood in the center of the field and watched Draco come towards him. Draco’s usually impeccable locks had fallen forward to shadow his eyes and his robes hung limply around his hunched form. Draco continued his even, seemingly defeated, pace and did not pause in front of Harry but, instead, walked straight into the young Auror’s arms, which came up automatically to hold the Malfoy heir. Draco buried his face in Harry’s shoulder and trembled, the shock of his new-found knowledge hanging about him still. “Did you find what you were looking for?” Harry asked softly, any trace of irritation or resentment he might have felt completely gone. Draco did not answer and Harry held him tighter. “I wish you would tell me what’s going on, Malfoy.”Draco stiffened in Harry’s embrace and pulled away. Harry peered at Draco, trying to catch his gaze. When his worried green eyes met Draco’s slate ones, Harry took in a sharp breath. Aside from looking completely miserable, sheer terror and wrath seemed to battle for the upper hand in Draco’s hard grey eyes. “Draco—““I need you to swear an Unbreakable Vow,” Draco interrupted, his voice sounding hoarse and pained. “What?” Harry blinked. “Hell no. Why?”“Please, Harry,” Draco whispered, the urgency in his voice allowing the sheer terror in his gaze to resurface. “I’ll tell you everything, I swear it. I wouldn’t ask you to do this if it wasn’t important. The last time someone swore an Unbreakable Vow in my presence, Albus Dumbledore ended up dead. I understand better than anyone the seriousness of the Unbreakable Vow and I’m asking you to swear one now. Please.”“Tell me what’s going on and I’ll consider it,” Harry said slowly. Draco shook his head. “No, you must swear.”“Draco, I won’t—““Harry!” Draco all but shrieked and another bolt of pain shot through Harry’s mind. “There is more going on here than you and me! A lot of people could die! You need to swear it. Swear it now!”“Swear what?” Harry shouted exasperatedly. “Merlin!”“Swear the Unbreakable Vow and I’ll tell you what you swore.”“Malfoy, have you lost your damn mind?”“TRUST ME!”Harry clamped his mouth shut, his mind swimming. Draco had never asked for his trust before…nor would he, Harry thought, unless it was truly important. Harry lifted his wand and swore the Unbreakable Vow. The spell was yet unfinished and Harry waited as Draco took in a shuddering breath and let it out slowly. Then, Draco closed his eyes and spoke the terms, completing the Vow. “Harry Potter, you hereby Vow to terminate my life should I become a danger to any Innocent Creature by any means necessary. This Vow will last for the entirety of one year.”“No…” Harry breathed. “Ah, no…Draco, what…no…” But it was done. An Unbreakable Vow was an Unbreakable Vow.“I promised I would tell you everything,” Draco said, and when he opened his eyes again, Harry could see that the boiling wrath was shifting past the terror, making his eyes blaze a strange silvery color. “And I will…as I burn my father’s body.”Truly shaken, Harry conceded with a small nod. ~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~Father, Be Proud~That night…~~Severus Snape stared at the parchment Draco had left on his desk. True to his word, Draco had scrawled a series of runes across the parchment with what Snape decided was an unsteady hand. Whatever these runes meant, it had frightened his godson when he had discovered their translation. Robes billowing behind him, Severus made his way across the castle to the Restricted Section and set about tracing Draco’s steps.~~Lucius Malfoy had been buried in the weed-strangled cemetery outside of Azkaban called Dementor’s Circle. Draco, who had refused to speak for the entirety of their journey to the dreaded prison, quietly located his father’s marker. Upon reaching it, Harry trailing worriedly behind him, Draco took the shovel they had found in a nearby shed and shoved it into the ground. Placing one foot on the shovel, Draco buried it deep into the earth and pulled out a chunk of dirt. Harry watched for a few minutes, wondering why Draco, of all people, was not using magic for the grizzly task at hand. At one point, while Draco continued to labor silently over his father’s grave, Harry turned to retrace his steps to the shed, fairly certain that there was another shovel in there somewhere. Behind him, Draco shoved his tool into the dirt again and read Harry’s thoughts. “No, Harry. This is something I need to do alone.”Harry turned back and watched the blond Slytherin resume his task. “Why won’t you use magic? You weren’t exactly built for hard labor.” Harry wasn’t sure what had made him say something cruel but Draco seemed to shrug it off with a harsh laugh, pulling another clump of dirt from atop his father’s grave. “If you had been in China with me,” Draco murmured, grunting softly as he shoved and heaved pile of dirt after pile of dirt, “you would not say such things.”Shamed into silence, Harry did not speak for a long moment. Then, “Draco, maybe you should let the dead rest.”Draco paused and let out a shout of despairing laughter before setting to work again. After that, Harry did not bother Draco again. Finally, Draco’s shovel hit the coffin and the Slytherin Prince disappeared into the hole he had made. After some sounds of scuffling, Draco pushed the lid of Lucius Malfoy’s coffin over the edge of the hole before, literally, dragging his father’s body out of the grave. Harry watched, somewhat horrified, as Draco hunched over his father’s corpse, panting and glaring at him with such a sickly expression Harry thought Draco might lash out at Lucius’ lifeless body. Which he did. With a shout, Harry clutched Draco’s robes and flung the Slytherin off of the corpse. “Malfoy, what is wrong with you?!”Their eyes met and something in Harry’s emerald green graze seemed to subdue Draco’s wrath. “Help me build the fire.”Slowly, and without magic, they built a large bonfire; all the while, Harry shot Draco wary sidelong glances. After pulling Lucius’ corpse atop the pile of wood and lighting it afire, Harry and Draco stood side by side, breathing hard against the stench of burning rotting flesh and watched the entire thing burn. It was hot; hotter than Harry would have thought, standing next to a funeral pyre. Harry wiped a few droplets of sweat from his brow as he gazed at the roaring fire. Yes, it was hot and it smelled terrible…but it was beautiful, in its own way. Harry watched a great billowing of smoke rise from the fire and twirl into the night sky, dancing within the space between the stars. Harry could not see the moon and it bothered him. “Do you know what a Tulpa is?” Draco asked quietly, the sound of his voice nearly lost in the roaring of the fire. “Residual spirit energy?” Harry answered uncertainly, trying to place the word. “Condensed to a certain focal point? Am I close?”Draco stole a wry sidelong glance Harry’s way. “Surprisingly,” Draco said dryly. “What do you know about Maul, the Black Tulpa?”Harry frowned, the word sounding foreign to him. “Nothing.”“There was a Prophecy,” Draco murmured after a long moment, staring at his father’s burning body. “Walburga said it was the Prophecy of my birth.”“What Prophecy?” Harry demanded, turning to Draco. “The portrait,” Draco explained patiently. “The portrait of Walburga Black spoke to me when you went to the Ministry. She spoke of a Prophecy.”“What Prophecy?” Harry repeated through clenched teeth. “A Pact is made on the Quest for Immortality…a God of Darkness relinquishes the Seven Keys…a Promise fulfilled in a Pure Womb…a Child born to Heal severed Lines…a Marking of the Near-Man…when the Dark Lord perishes at the Hands of Love half-remembered…The Gatherer is hosted and calls in the Night…a Sacrifice is laid on the Alter of Justice…and Purity wears the Face of Maul…Darkness reigns over the Land of Men…so be quiet Child…for the Black Tulpa fears only the Eighth Key.”Silence clapped in their ears like thunder after Draco had finished the recitation. Harry swallowed and opened his mouth to speak; yet, nothing came out. Draco continued, angry words spilling from his mouth as he watched the Harry Potter he’d always despised slide back into place…just like Draco had predicted, judgmental and full of spite. “I thought perhaps Pansy would know something. That perhaps Pandora had divulged a family secret I could use to my advantage as I searched for the Eighth Key. But, no. The only thing she found was that I had strange Runes etched into the Mark on my back.” Draco glanced at Harry as a muscle worked in the young Auror’s jaw. “Then, at Hogwarts, I learned the meaning of the Runes.”“The Restricted Section,” Harry remarked, less than amused. “Yes, well.” Draco fell silent, staring into the flames, his entire body quivering as the rift between them grew wider and wider. Finally, Harry turned to the Malfoy heir. “What do the Runes mean?”Draco didn’t answer right away. Then, “’Maul, whose name must not be spoken aloud, is the Black Tulpa. When tainted souls of evil unmentionable are released from bodily confines, it is directed to the Black Tulpa; where it swirls in an abyss of darkness. This darkness was so dense that it spawned a mind like a demon, bearing a heart of hatred and contempt. This being was named Maul, which must not be spoken aloud, and given the Seven Keys.’ That’s all I found about Maul. The rest was torn and missing.”Harry ran a hand through his hair and fixed Draco with an intense look. “Malfoy, you’ve dragged me all over the countryside, confused and worried the fuck out of me, made me swear an Unbreakable Vow to kill you, desecrated your father’s grave, and now you’re telling me loads of mad bollocks about Prophecies and evil spirits. You have about thirty seconds to start making sense—““The Runes translated into ‘Chosen Host of Maul, the Black Tulpa'.”Draco and Harry stared hard at one another. “No,” Harry breathed as Draco continued to speak. “When Voldemort marked me the second time, he marked me for possession. This Maul is already inside me Harry—that’s why I had you swear the Vow…I…I can feel him…”“The sleepwalking?” Harry whispered, closing his eyes. “That thing behind your eyes?”Draco looked away but stood his ground even as he swallowed his pride. “I need your help to find the Eighth Key. I don’t think I can do this on my own—““No shit, Sherlock!” Harry exploded. “You are such a witless, self-absorbed prick, you know that?”Draco fell silent and watched as Harry fumed and paced. Draco braced himself for the possibility that Harry might give up on him. After all, Harry Potter’s mission was to keep him safe from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemort. Now that Draco had forced him to swear an Unbreakable Vow to end his life, should it become necessary, the terms of this case have drastically shifted. Harry quit his pacing and turned to Draco, their silhouettes against the angry fire stark and black. “Why did you lie to me? You shouldn’t have lied to me.”“Why didn’t you tell me who I really was when I woke from my coma?” Draco shot back quietly. “Why did you send me to America as some Muggle?”“To protect you.” Harry looked suddenly tired. “Draco, I don’t need protection.”Draco would have disagreed, but he didn’t need to; Harry read it in his face. “Malfoy, it is my job to protect you.”“So, protect me, Potter!” Closeted emotion made Draco’s voice raw. Something tremored deep inside him and Draco couldn’t put a name to why he suddenly panicked.Harry shook his head and Draco clenched and unclenched his fits, that tremor playing nervous music on the erratic beats of his heart. Minutes passed and they said nothing to one another. Anger, guilt, and fear shrouded Draco like a cloak while Harry managed to look very, very tired. Finally, a whisper worked its way passed Harry’s full lips. Three words. “I hate this.”Draco cracked a wry, hopeful smile and lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. “It always gets worse before it gets better.”Harry eyed his Slytherin comrade. “Did your mother used to say that?”Draco smiled genuinely this time, a flash of perfectly white teeth. “Ah, no. Dumbledore, actually.”Harry took in a deep breath, his green eyes large and wary. “If this is going to work, we have to always be honest with one another. No more lies.”Draco nodded minutely, his eyes hard with understanding; though, secretly, his heart leapt. Harry looked back at the funeral pyre. “So, what’s next?” Draco asked, coming to stand beside the young Auror. “To the Ministry?”“They need to know,” Harry conceded with a nod. “Especially that the Gatherer seems to be under Maul’s command and his Death Eaters are no real threat to you…and that the Death Eaters refusing the Gatherer’s call could be friend or foe and there is no real way to know for sure…”Draco blinked. He hadn’t thought of that.“But…no. I’ll take you back to Grimmauld Place first. If I take you straight to the Ministry with this crazy story about you turning into the most evil creature mankind has ever known, you might just disappear within the Ministry and some story about you breaking your neck in Asia will show up in the Daily Prophet.”Draco nearly choked on his own saliva. “Truly?”Harry smiled gently. “I’ll be able to protect you from Grimmauld Place. Anyone who can get in is either loyal to you or me. I’ll go to the Ministry and make an official report.”Draco nodded and they turned back to the fire, watching it burn itself into small embers. “I really do hate this,” Harry said with a sigh.Draco shuddered. “But not me?”Harry caught his eye. “No, not you.”Draco watched the smoke plume skywards and thought of his father. ~~Underground.To a Wizard, that meant without the use of magic…so that travel would go unmarked and undetected. To Blaise Zabini, that meant strictly horseback. Except, of course, the few times he had to cross a river or a bit of ocean. A pureblood would never be caught making use of a Muggle contraption unless it was a dire emergency. And truly, as much as he and Draco Malfoy were near-cousins, one ambiguous letter from Pansy Parkinson did not qualify as a ‘dire emergency’. So, Blaise made good time changing horses every hundred miles or so. Pureblood or no, Blaise was not so pretentious as to never use Muggles to his advantage. His network was spread all over Europe, Asia, and the Americas…which made him quite unwelcome at most Death Eater parties during the war, though he was often used as a spy nonetheless, and from both sides. However, regardless of his usefulness to the Ministry during the war, he was blacklisted when the warrant for Draco’s assassination came and he, Blaise Zabini, just happened to be at the top of the list of suspects. With his shady reputation, and no desire to bring unwelcome light to his best friend’s unusual predicament, Blaise had fled to Italy and waited. Now, he raced; hell for leather, northbound on a chestnut bay. The animal beneath him sweated above the churning muscles that carried her master ever-onward. White frothed from the bit clenched between the bay’s teeth and her eyes rolled as Blaise steered her through a dense forest at a faster pace than was probably wise. Blaise’s sharp eyes darted around them as he steered, wondering if the bay would make it to the next pick-up point where another steed waited, fresh and fully fed and watered, for Blaise to run it into the ground like the countless animals before it. It wouldn’t be the first time he had to put down a horse. In the mountains, Blaise’s spotted stallion had crushed his foreleg on a crest of sharp rocks hidden by a thin layer of snow. Blaise was a hard master, but not a cruel one. After the stallion had thrown him, Blaise had circled back for an extra water skin and to slit the poor beast’s throat. Blaise had trudged the rest of the distance to the next pick-up point on foot, stopping only to make blood-tea enough to sustain him for another long trek. But, no; the bay lasted and after nodding to the Muggle who waited patiently with the next steed and mounting the fresh horse, Blaise was off again, racing up the French coast like a thousand demons were after him. It was raining hard by the time Blaise reached the part of the French coast where one could barely see the English coast from across the straits if it were clear and sunny out and he was as bone weary as his steed when he dismounted. Bellatrix had warned him about a strange Prophecy before she had set off to retrieve a Horcrux for Voldemort and Blaise, squinting across the sea against the downpour, hoped against hope that Pansy’s letter didn’t hold a hidden warning about the only thing that could deprave sleep from the most jovial Pureblood ever to grace English Wizarding circles. Yet, a chill crawling up Blaise’s spine told him he was running out of time.~~The flight back to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was prickly. That unstable, crackly tension had returned and Harry shivered whenever Draco glanced at him. They found themselves staring at one another in the hallway, energy crackling between them. “My worst fear,” Harry said at great length, “was that I would become like Voldemort.”“At Hogwarts,” Draco murmured with a nod, remembering. “I saw.”Harry sighed and swept a hand around him, gesturing at the house around him. “I’m not sure I’ve done much more than buy us some time. If they order me to bring you to the Ministry, I might have to.”Draco nodded again, his eyes burning with something unsaid. “I understand.”“I hate this,” Harry muttered for the third time that night, making to move past Draco towards the door. Draco grabbed his arm and pushed Harry against the wall, pinning him there with his own body. “You bought us some time, Harry,” Draco whispered, his lips pressed against his ear. “Let’s use it…we may not have another chance.”Harry made a sound somewhere between a sob and a groan before clutching Draco’s face and crushing his lips against his, kissing him like a drowning man. It was violent; filled with desperation and passion. Draco shoved his tongue passed Harry’s teeth, moaning as Harry’s tongue rose up to meet his, velvety and insistent. Harry clung to Draco’s shoulders as he pressed his leg between Harry’s. Their minds were swimming, fingers ripping at clothes, tripping over buttons and ties, trying to breathe against the awful, wonderful pressure of each other’s bodies. How they became naked, Harry wasn’t sure. Perhaps their wandless magic helped where their fingers were useless. It didn’t matter, not really. They were unspeakably hard already and they rutted against one another, gasping into each other’s mouths. Draco pressed in as much as he could, wanting to touch every part of Harry’s body, breathe in every possible scent, taste every possible flavor. Pinned against the wall, Harry let Draco ravish him. He hadn’t submitted in a long time. Draco’s mouth and hands seemed to be everywhere at one, reverent and thirsty, making sounds of wonderment at every touch that elicited a moan from Harry’s lips. Draco left a trail of sweet saliva as he kissed down Harry’s throat. He murmured soft prayers against the skin of Harry’s chest, taking time to pay homage to each taut nipple before moving ever-downward. Harry quivered when Draco dipped his tongue into his naval and placed a firm kiss on his lower abdomen. When Harry found the strength to open his eyes and glance down, his eyes locked with Draco’s bright gray ones and nearly wept. Slowly, reverently, like the severity of temple worship, Draco kissed the bobbing head of Harry’s erect phallus. Harry’s neck turned to water and his head rolled as Draco continued his tortuous worship. Lips and tongue worked the impressive length of Harry’s shaft, tasting with long sweeps of the velvety muscle and placed a kiss to cool the discovered area. Soon, Harry was quivering and moaning above Draco's kneeling form as if every harpstring was being plucked. Then, when Harry thought he couldn’t stand it any longer and the growing heat in his stomach was going to explode, Draco took Harry’s entire length into the warmth of his mouth and throat. Harry gasped, swearing obscenities under his breath, and clutched at Draco’s silvery head as it bobbed over his phallus. Too much and not enough; the swirling, crackling energy was back, surrounding them and penetrating them and with a shout, Harry spent himself into Draco’s surprisingly talented mouth. Draco rocked back on his heels, eyes filled with wicked laughter, a wry smile hovering over his glistening lips. “I’ve never done that before. How was I?”Harry groaned and his eyes fluttered closed, Draco’s clear laughter ringing off the walls of the hall. And then it was quiet again as Draco waited for Harry to catch his breath. “You look so beautiful like that,” Draco murmured as his eyes soaked in Harry Potter, gloriously nude, cheeks flushed and lips parted, breath coming in pants as he leaned against the wall with his eyes closed. A slow smile curled Harry’s lips as he cracked an eye open, watching as Draco stood, lithe as a cat and twice as predatory. “Thanks.”Draco pressed in close again, wrapping his arms around Harry’s lean waist. “I want to fuck you,” Draco whispered in his ear. Harry turned his face and kissed Draco. Harry could taste himself on his lips. “Do you think you can handle it?”Draco swept his arm across a small table laden with candlesticks and small adornments, sending them clattering on the floor. Pushing Harry down on the table and watching his face change from languid pleasure, to surprise, and back to a minxy little smirk, Draco situated himself between Harry’s legs and placed another kiss on Harry's stomach. Draco stumbled through the preparation, listening with rapt attention as Harry guided him with his own fingers through the stretching and searching for and stimulating the prostate. When Draco’s trembling fingers hit their mark, he marveled at how Harry hissed and arched off the table, smiling a little to himself. “Yeah,” Harry gasped. “You’ll want to aim for that.”Whispering a quick lubricating spell, Draco positioned himself between Harry’s legs and pushed in slowly. Draco was larger than average and Harry winced at the intrusion, but he hid his expression until Draco had filled him completely. Draco’s features were open with awe and passion. “Fuck, Harry…you’re so hot…and tight…”Harry smiled gently and touched Draco’s wondering face. “Move, Draco.”Draco placed his hands on either side of Harry’s face and pulled out slowly before pushing back in, beginning the ages old rhythm. “I’m not hurting you, am I?” Draco asked, concerned when he saw Harry wince and bite his lip. Harry met his worried gaze. “No, Draco. You haven’t hurt me; not yet.”“A passing dalliance, no doubt?” Walburga had inquired. “Of course, my lady.” “And you will break his heart, then?” “Certainly, my lady.” Walburga had seemed disappointed in his answer. Draco was beginning to agree with her. He pressed a fierce kiss against Harry’s mouth, latching with hungry lips that ravished as Draco slammed into him, over and over, no longer concerned with being gentle. This nameless thing between them wasn’t gentle. It grew large, so all encompassing, that it made to swallow them whole. It burned them and claimed them and latched them together. It did all these things, but it wasn’t gentle in its doing. Draco understood at least that much. He understood what it was to be cruel. And so did, it seemed, Harry, who met his harsh thrust each and every time, grunting and gasping and biting down on Draco’s shoulder when the pain became too much to bear alone. And then the sweet, blessed magic between them reared up and danced around and through them again. Swirling with lightless color and pranced and twinkled until their screams were lost in it. Too much and not enough. It would never be enough. Afterward, Draco watched Harry slowly get dressed, taking care to mend his ripped clothing as he did. Draco pulled on his trousers, feeling slightly guilty at giving Harry such rough treatment. “Don’t,” Harry said, breaking the silence. “What?” Draco blinked, startled. “Don’t feel bad. I wanted it too. I was gentle with you the first time, but it’s not always so.”Draco took in a deep breath. “Really?”Harry nodded and put on his Auror’s robes. “Well, it’s fitting, then.”Harry smiled sadly. “It is, isn’t it?”.Draco stood to face Harry and the young Auror gathered him in his arms. “I hate this,” Harry hissed.Draco stirred and lifted his head. “But not me?”Harry pressed a chaste kiss to Draco’s lips and shook his head. “No, not you.”Draco pried himself loose of Harry’s embrace, sick unto death of heart ache and things left half-said, and did not watch Harry leave for the Ministry. ~~Severus Snape, up to his elbows in ancient documents and sick with worry, cursed aloud as he re-read--for the third time--the translation of the Runes.Severus took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. This was bad.It always gets worse before it gets better. ~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. A/N: By request--and rightly so--I have revised Chapters "All that is Unholy" and "Deny the Martyr". Now, they are one, single chapter under the title "Deny the Martyr". I hope this abates any further confusion. Feel free to ask questions if you do. Enjoy. The term martyr (Greek μάρτυς "witness") initially signified a witness in the forensic sense, a person called to bear witness in legal proceedings.Martyr is also a term in psychology for a depressed person with a very negative, pessimistic attitude about everything in life. ~Wikipedia"III id. ian. Romæ, in cymiterio Callisti, via Appia, depositio Miltiadis episcopi""The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose."- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), The Merchant of Venice, I.iii"Better to light a candle than curse the darkness."- Chinese Proverb ~Deny the Martyr~Later…~~Elbow deep in ancient parchment, Severus Snape shuddered to the depths of his core. His mind raced beneath his unruly, oily locks and despair settled itself like a cold rock in the pit of his stomach. Maul.Draco was researching Maul.Severus knew of only two other people who knew what Maul was and what that blasted thing held in its keeping--both of whom were dead. Albus Dumbledore and Tom Riddle...Lord Voldemort. And when Voldemort had unearthed the secret of Maul, he had discovered the secret to ensuring his own immortality.The Seven Keys. Or, as Dumbledore called them, and later Harry Potter--who destroyed them--Horcruxes.Only Maul has the power to bestow the Seven Keys...and only Voldemort had attempted to create all seven; shredding his soul into pieces through murder and darkness, storing them into trinkets and...other things...and keeping them hidden. A locket, a ring, a cup, a headdress, a journal, a snake, and a boy...Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. Again and Again.The exact art of it, the actual formula in its entirety, was Maul's to horde. The ancients made sure of that. But Voldemort had wrested the secret from the Black Tulpa somehow and used it to his own means. Was Draco Malfoy thinking to create Horcruxes for himself?That thought alone made cold sweat break over his brow. Severus had been concerned about his godson ever since Narcissa had passed. The years when Draco was in St. Mungo's had allowed Severus to breathe a little easier, knowing at least he was safe...from himself as well as others. How much could one person take before they broke? Severus Snape feared he may have passed that point already...if he was following in Lord Voldemorte’s footsteps and looking to shred his soul into pieces. ~~"Ah, Pansy, you're looking well," exclaimed a weary-looking but nonetheless suave Blaise Zabini as he swept through the main hall of the Parkinson Manor and into a sitting room where a fire blazed to keep out the late night chill. Pansy and Pandora Parkinson followed close behind, the former gritting her teeth against her irritation at being woken at the unseemly hour of three in the morning, and the latter blinking blearily and trying to be gracious as she conjured lights and murmured short, crisp orders to the House Elves to bring light refreshments and tea. "And Lady Pandora, lovely as ever."Pandora nodded, exchanging a glance with her niece. "I swear," Blaise continued, plopping down on a couch and propping up his feet. "For summer, it's awfully cold. All this rain, chills to the bone it does--""Actually, we've had fair nights for some time," Pansy tried to interject with an impatient flick of her wrist. "The Straights were a right bitch to cross, all that wind," Blaise continued, unperturbed. "In any case, this place is quite charming. Cozy. I like a bit more green in my palette. Truly, Lady, you could use a few plants here and there. Did I mention? The hyacinth is in bloom all over the south and France positively reeks of lavender, the mists and rain is making it all permeate something awful. And the heat! Truly, with or without a few plants, ladies, do stay inside! Way too uncomfortable for your fair conditionings. My poor horses--""Zabini!" Pansy shrieked."Pansy, not so loud," Pandora admonished softly."Blaise," Pansy said in a more even tone. "Really..."Blaise and Pansy regarded one another until Blaise flashed his impenetrable grin, hard white teeth glinting off the firelight. "So," Blaise said quietly. "Draco's in trouble."Pansy exchanged another glance with her aunt, who nodded, blue-black hair shimmering in waves. "Were you aware," Pansy inquired, grave as a courtier, "that Draco had been re-marked by Lord Voldemort, in the center of his spine?"Blaise's brows arched, but he made no other response. "Well," Pansy continued, "his Mark is still quite visible and there are runes, ancient runes, etched along the edge of it.""Still visible, you say?" Blaise rubbed his forearm uncomfortably. "And ancient runes?" Blaise stood to his feet and regarded the fire, his face unwontedly sober as he stared into the flames. "Where is he now?""I don't know," Pansy murmured. "He...he was here yesterday morning. He and Potter were headed for Hogwarts when they left.""Hogwarts..." Without warning, Blaise lashed out and punched the mantle, whirling on the two women standing a healthy distance away. "That doesn't help me, Pansy! Where. Is. He. Now? He wouldn't still be at Hogwarts.""What's going on, Blaise? I knew you would know more than me. He said something about a Prophecy--""Pansy!" Blaise growled, his features turning a certain shade of dangerous. Pandora placed a warning hand on Pansy's elbow and stepped forward. "I overheard Potter speaking to the young Malfoy about a 'grim old place'," Pandora said evenly. "In reference to returning there.""Grim old place," Blaise echoed slowly. "Grim old place..." Suddenly, Blaise's irrepressible grin was back. "Ah, well." Blaise took a cinnamon candy from a nearby table and popped it into his mouth before reaching out with a slender finger and caressing Pandora's regal chin. Madam Parkinson tried to suppress her shiver but, well, they are what they are and Blaise knew it as well as she did. Blaise's golden eyes gleamed wickedly before lowering his hand to grasp hers. "Thank you, my lady," Blaise murmured, dropping a kiss on Pandora's wrist. Blaise turned to Pansy and offered her a mocking, sweeping bow. Then, he was gone as quickly as he had come. Grim old place. Try, Grimmauld Place.~~Harry felt the familiar lurch in his stomach as he Apparated outside the Ministry and took a moment to catch his breath before beginning the long, somewhat--no, very--odd and arduous journey into the large magical building. Finally, forcing each step in front of the other, he entered, dodging charmed paper air planes as he headed for the elevator. He recited the speech he was going to present to the Minister, over and over, in his mind. And every time, Harry knew he sounded insane. At best, Scrimgeour would demand that Draco be reprimanded into the Ministry's custody and Harry removed from the case. At worst...Harry didn't want to think about the worst that could happen. He wouldn't think about it. Harry entered the Auror's Division and looked around, feeling dizzy. Squinting, he could make out the Minister's Office across the valley of cubicles. The door to the office opened and Hermione Granger walked through the doorway, followed closely behind by his partner, Ron Weasley. Harry's scar began to ache and he shook his head to dispel the familiar feeling. No, wait. Harry no longer had the scar. The Horcrux scar. Now, the lightning bolt brand, courtesy of Lord Voldemort, was imprinted on Draco Malfoy's forehead. Whom he left alone and unprotected at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Harry made out Hermione and Ron turning towards him as the Auror's Division swam in his gaze. The ghost of his scar began to burn fiercely and Harry heard a furious scream that echoed into despair. Harry wasn't sure if it was him, but, Merlin, it sounded like Draco. No, no, no...ah, no!Aurors rushed up to him as Harry clutched his head, fisting his hair against the fierce pain. The sound of a violin, haunting laughter, cold, so cold. That scream again. Rushing, rushing, rushing, the Aurors were rushing at him, the floor was rushing at him, the pain came from all around him...and then erupted from the center of his spine. Bone-shattering pain that he thought would never end. He writhed against it, shouting unintelligibly.Then, there was nothing but a pit of never-ending blackness. And the sweet, awful sound of a bow running across the strings of a violin. ~~ Maul smiled, lips, new lips, young lips made for pleasure and cruelty, stretched over perfect white teeth that were not his own. That Riddle had made a perfect choice for him. This body was perfect. Perfect. Yes, perfect. Youthful, slender muscles coiled under pale skin, hiding secret physical strength beneath the seemingly frail anatomy. Maul stretched out his hand, gazing at the long fingers with well-manicured fingertips, and slowly closed the digits into a fist, feeling himself fill every limb of this young, beautiful body. The soul of the body's owner struggled valiantly against him and Maul knew he wasn't strong enough to possess this body completely for very long. But his strength was returning quickly and his Gatherer would be able to seal him inside the body and cast away the soul that fought with him. Strange memories of the young soul filtered and mixed with his own and Maul shook his head to dispel them, shimmering, silver-white hair falling into the eyes he looked out of. Maul smiled again. Hair the color of moonlight. How wonderful. Yes, this body would do just fine. Maul gazed out of the window of this strange house he found himself in, listening to his Gatherer play the Song of Summoning over and over again on some stringed instrument. He could hear the music, but could not see the mortal who summoned him. He could find him. His precious Gatherer. Maul turned, feeling his ancient power course through him like electricity, surges like sea waves spiking to the ends of his fingers and toes. Ah, toes! How long since he had those? Maul could not remember. All he remembered from before his pact with Tom Riddle, the rash, power-hungry young man who yearned for immortality, was the slow-burning hate, the demanding anger, the irrational wrath that made up the core of his being, that solidified him into a thinking entity, that earned him the right to possess the Seven Keys that so many coveted; and he held them at his center, clinging to their secrets and piously knowing that even though he had no use for this mighty power, it threw so many into pits of unending despair as Maul kept the Keys beyond their reach. Maul smiled again and headed for the stairway, the ears he was using straining to hear the Song of Summoning in the narrow corridor. But his lust for human form, his lust to control more souls had driven him to concede to Riddle's offer. Maul descended the curving stair, marveling at how the ankles curved and the knees bent, how the limber legs supported his form. Another long corridor. And, there, at the end, a door leading to his freedom, to his weapon, to his Gatherer who would aid in the claiming of this body. This marvelous, beautiful body. And then more. More. More, more, more. Ah! How he hungered for it! "Child, where are you off to now?" Madam Walburga Black inquired behind him from her portrait. "Your Auror instructed you to stay here." Maul turned slightly, regarding her over his shoulder. His wonderfully sculptured shoulder. Walburga gasped, a frail hand lifting to cover her mouth. "You're not Narcissa's boy." Maul smiled darkly, even as the young soul roiled against him in his ever-valiant struggle to re-claim his body. "No, painted woman," Maul murmured. "I am not." And for the first time in an age, Walburga Black had the grace to look frightened. Maul reached the door and, with an awe-inspiring twist of his wrist and clever grip of his fingers, the doorknob was turned and the door opened. A fresh wave of music, no longer encumbered by walls and magic, washed over him and Maul breathed in the lovely smell of human stench, pollution, and oil-slickened asphalt streets. Ah, what wonderful creatures, these humans! Maul thought perhaps he had been one once. But he could not remember. Maul followed the Song of Summoning down streets, quiet mostly due to the late hour, through alleys, under a dark highway ramp awash in an orange glow and humming with the few automobiles that drove across it, a small granite tunnel that landed him amidst a thicket of trees, and there, on the far side, was a field of grass dotted with a few more trees--a clipped, molded park of sorts--and a bonfire. Standing before the flames was the black silhouette of a man, a violin perched between his clean-shaven chin and his shoulder. With one last fluid motion, the man brought the bow across the strings, ending the lullaby with a harsh, haunting, resounding note, the shrill sound filling the air between them. His Gatherer. Maul smiled his horrible smile. ~~Harry awoke with a start, blinking furiously and shaking off the hands that tried to help him up. He must have fainted. A blush of red burned his cheeks as he thought of the teasing Draco Malfoy had once scrutinized him with for fainting on the Hogwarts Express when Dementors had been looking for his now-deceased godfather Sirius Black. Draco. Harry jumped to his feet, ignoring the sounds of protest from the Aurors and medics surrounding him, and bolted, running at breakneck speed for the elevator. Distantly, Harry registered the sound of Ron yelling at him for him to come back and Scrimgeour shouting for an explanation. But then the elevator was shut and he was gliding down to the main floor. His head ached and the ghost of his scar tingled. And, Merlin, his back hurt like fury. Finally, the elevator hit the main floor and Harry was off like a bullet again, breathing hard and fast, his adrenaline pumping away the sheer and unexplainable terror that told him something was very, very wrong. He had to get back to Grimmauld Place. Immediately. Outside of the Ministry of Magic's magical defenses, Harry Apparated to the doorstep of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. A horrible sinking feeling settled in his stomach as he realized the front door was ajar. Harry ran inside, ignoring the rampant shrieking of Walburga Black and searched the bottom floor, shouting for Draco. He wasn't there. Harry ran to the stairway, taking the steps two at a time and scoured every room. The window was open in their bedroom again. The only time it was open was when Draco sleepwalked. Harry felt despair coil the muscles in his body, clenching his heart relentlessly. He was too late. Harry sprinted back down the stairs and approached Madam Black's portrait, his eyes burning a furious shade of green. "Where did he go?" Harry demanded. "I know you saw him leave."Walburga paused mid-shriek. "How dare you speak to me, you filthy Half-blood?"In a surge of anger, Harry punched the wall next to the portrait. "Where is he?!"Walburga opened her mouth, a sharp retort on her lips dying with a sigh. "Narcissa's boy is gone.""Where?!""No," she said, her voice trembling. "He has been replaced. He is all that is unholy. The Dark One has returned."Harry clutched at his hair, anger and fear shaking his body. He turned in a circle, spared one last look at Walburga before summoning his broom, and flew from the hall, out the door, and into the night. The Unbreakable Vow he swore itched at the corner of his mind as he flew, following the tingling and burning of the ghost-scar, wind whipping his hair erratically. He had sworn it. Harry just hoped it wouldn't come to that. All that is unholy. Walburga Black's words sent shivers down his aching spine as his eyes darted here and there, searching for the white-haired, grey-eyed Slytherin whom he had grown so many feelings for, the man he might have to kill. Harry wondered if this was how Severus Snape had felt when he rushed into the Astronomy Tower, knowing his godson wouldn't be able to kill his Headmaster. A searing pain struck his forehead and the ghost of his scar burned ever-stronger. Harry set his mouth in a fierce, grim line. He was getting closer.~~Blaise Apparated onto the street called Grimmauld Place and looked around. A simple enough avenue reeking of Muggles; vacated though, due to the lateness of the hour. Blaise walked slowly down the sidewalk, gazing at one building after the other. Pausing, Blaise narrowed his eyes on the space between two buildings. The ones numbered Eleven and Thirteen. Blaise frowned. There was nothing there. Suddenly, a figure emerged from nothingness, right between Numbers Eleven and Thirteen. The figure halted, peering back at him. Then the figure whipped out his wand and, before Blaise could retrieve his own, the figure shouted: "Accio Wand!"Blaise's wand flew from his hand and landed neatly in the hand of the man before him. Blaise scowled. If the man was aggressive, Blaise would be dead already. "Draco?" Blaise called out. The figure approached quickly, frowning back at him with all the irratation and distaste Severus Snape could muster. "Zabini."Blaise snorted bemusedly, eyeing his former Head of House; though, he was silently relieved. "I'm looking for Draco," Blaise said evenly. "Pansy sent me; the Parkinson’s are concerned about him."Severus rolled his eyes. "Are they, now?" he sneered. Blaise regarded Snape stolidly. "He's not here, then."Severus was quiet for a moment. "No," he said flatly. They stared at one another for a few minutes before Blaise sighed, throwing up his hands in an exaggerated fashion. "I think Maul has possessed Draco, Snape. It's quite essential that we locate him immediately."Severus frowned. "Possessed?""Yes, possessed," Blaise repeated with an impatient flick of his wrist. "Bellatrix Lestrange warned me about a Prophecy--""What Prophecy?" Snape demanded.Blaise recited the Prophecy, watching Severus' shoulders slump as he did so. Then, Severus let loose a string of crude incentives Blaise hadn't known he was capable of. Then Severus shouted for Draco's eagle-owl, which came immediately, Hedwig trailing behind nervously. "Pan," Severus said. "I need you to help me find your master." Pan ruffled his feathers and cocked his head to the side. "Can you do that?" Severus asked patiently, understanding that owls like Pan weren't used to taking orders from Wizards who were not their Master. Pan cawed indignantly and Severus smiled, turning to Hedwig. "And you. I need you to send a message to Ronald Weasley at the Ministry of Magic."Blaise stepped forward at that. "Are you sure that's the best idea, to involve the Ministry?""It would be suicide not to," Severus replied seriously, handing Blaise his wand.~~The Gatherer gazed back at his Lord, Maul in the flesh...the flesh of Draco Malfoy. Despite his best efforts to steal Malfoy's magic and kill him, he had fulfilled the Hosting anyway. The Gatherer was partly disappointed, knowing that if he had succeeded in his gamble in America, he would be the Host and not the Malfoy Heir. Ah well, the Slytherin Prince made a striking form for the Black Tulpa anyway. Tall and pale, his features were cold and handsomely aristocratic, limbs long and slender, hair shining pale silver in the moonlight and large black eyes that never seemed to end. Lord Voldemort must have foreseen this effect. No one could deny Draco Malfoy his unnaturally good looks. The Gatherer smiled and knelt, pressing his forehead against the dewy grass at Maul's feet. He waited. Finally, Maul smiled. "Rise, Gatherer. You have served me well.""Thank you, my Lord," the Gatherer murmured, coming to his feet. "It is my life's honor to serve you.""Hmm," Maul's terrible smile never faltered. "That remains to be seen." Maul raised his cold fingers to stroke the Gatherer's cheek, taking in his sunny eyes and mop of sandy curls. Maul's fingertips curled and he dug his nails into the tender flesh, dragging them down to his jaw line and relishing the sound of his startled gasp and the beauty of red, red blood running in thin rivers between his pale fingertips. "We will see." Maul pulled his hand away, his terrible smile still in place. "I certainly hope that scars."Looking hurt, the Gatherer bowed his once-handsome head. "As you wish, my Lord."Maul laughed, the horrible sound cutting through the night air like a knife. "Yes. Yes, indeed.""My Lord," the Gatherer murmured, head still bowed. "The man that the Ministry assigned to Draco Malfoy will be looking for him."Ah, yes. The black-haired one. He had struck him in the face a few nights ago, before he was strong enough to fully saturate the body. Maul remembered. The soul inside the body struggled anew, and Maul was suddenly nauseated by the bright, expanding feeling that exploded from the soul and filled the body. It swelled inside of him like the rising sun, swirling around his heart with unimaginable affection and tenderness. A fierce, protective love. Maul spat, hating the emotion. The very notion of love offended him. Maul spat again, attempting to rid his mouth of the taste of sunlight. Weakened already by the nauseating feeling, Maul stared hard at his Gatherer, a sudden thought coming to mind. "Servant, when the soul retakes this body, tell him that I will spare his lover if he surrenders to me completely.""Yes, my Lord," the Gatherer replied immediately. "Who is this lover?"Maul raised an immaculate, silver brow. "You don't know? The black-haired one. The body-guard. As you said, he would be looking for him."Anger flashed in his Gatherer's sunny eyes, twisting his features with rage. "They're lovers?!"Maul smiled slowly. Oh, yes. "And if you serve me well enough, Gatherer, I will let you have him."The Gatherer nodded, his face still dark with an unexplainable wrath. Well, perhaps not unexplainable; Maul could read his thoughts easily if he wanted to. However, Maul didn't think it was necessary. Then, leaving the taking of this body to his Gatherer, without whom, it would be difficult and take many weeks, Maul faded, shrinking into the depths of the body, a tiny niche beside the soul of Draco Malfoy.The Gatherer watched Maul stiffen in the body of the Malfoy heir and his great, bottomless black eyes faded to frightened grey. Draco Malfoy blinked, trembling so badly he looked like he was seizing. He looked around like a wild animal, his eyes large and terrified. "Where am I?! Who are you?!"The Gatherer tipped his head to one side, regarding Draco silently. His anger was a slow surge and pull inside of him and he had to will his temper in check. "Why did you bring me here?!" Draco demanded, his voice rising to a shout. Draco spotted the gashes in the man's cheek and looked at his hand, his stomach lurching when he saw the bloody flesh engrained in his fingernails. The Gatherer picked up his violin and placed it beneath his chin. He brought the bow across the strings, playing a few chords in creepy succession. Pain erupted from the Mark on Draco's back and he doubled over, falling to one knee. In clouds of black, Death Eaters began to appear in a standing circle around the crouched form of Draco Malfoy. Draco looked up, shaken to his very core, and his mouth ran dry. ~~Harry nearly fell off his broom when the pain in his spine exploded again. This time, however, he did not faint and righted himself on the broom. Harry increased his speed, shooting through the night air on his broom, knowing he was close. Harry squinted through the darkness, spotting a small fire in a park on the outskirts of London City. Speeding like a bullet, Harry plummeted towards the fire. His heart leapt and he grit his teeth when he sighted a pale figure in the center of a circle of black-robed figures. Death Eaters. "Draco!" Harry screamed, wind whipping past him as he sped toward the ground at break-neck speed. Draco's silvery head lifted and his hand shot up. Harry flung out his arm and pulled hard on the broom with his other, grabbing Draco's arm and plucking him from the circle of Death Eaters. Harry swung hard with the arm that Draco clung to and Draco got his legs around the back of the broom, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around the Auror's waist. "Are they following?!" Harry shouted. Draco craned his neck to look, seeing Death Eaters flying towards them, broomless, surging forward like a black cloud. Draco swallowed. "Yes!""Hold on," Harry gritted and leaned forward, increasing their speed as he headed straight for the city. Harry went straight into Quidditch mode as the first red-bolted curse flew over his shoulder. Harry veered sharply left, feeling Draco's arms tighten around his waist as they whipped around a small building. Harry dodged into a tight alley, pulled right at the end of it, and nearly caused a car wreck when he flew into an intersection, hovering dangerously close to the Muggle contraptions. Harry flew lower, still speeding so quickly, their surroundings blurred to smears of color. Harry dodged dangerously between the oncoming automobiles, weaving between them and ducking low when a stray curse cast by a Death Eater struck something near them and exploded. The street widened and the cars became fewer. "Watch the deck!" Draco shouted over Harry's shoulder when a fiery green curse struck the asphalt a few feet in front of them, causing sparks and rubble to explode in their faces. Harry pulled up, shooting them skyward as Draco held on for dear life. "They're catching up!" Draco shouted and Harry leaned forward again, bolting towards the east side of town. "Where are we going?!""Diagon Alley!" Harry called back, keeping his focus on dodging the deadly curses being shot at them and keeping up his dangerous speed that wasn't quite fast enough. "We'll go faster on separate brooms!"Draco was incredulous. "We don't exactly have time to stop and shop for brooms right now, Harry!"Harry didn't respond as he plummeted down into another intersection and cut into another alley. Harry whipped left, and then right. And then right again. Then: "I'm gonna try something, Draco! Hold on!" Harry flung out his right arm, sending them into a spiral, his eyes darting as he searched for the shop he was looking for. "Accio Broom!" Harry shouted suddenly and an explosion of glass covered them. When they emerged from the shower of glittering glass, their flying spiral becoming erratic, a broom hovered near Harry's shaking, outstretched hand, flying alongside them. "Draco! Jump! Now!" "Are you mad?!" Harry growled, his magical hold on both brooms slipping, and reached behind him. Grabbing the cuff of Draco's shirt, Harry all but threw Draco onto the stolen broom. Wide-eyed with shock and with no idea which way was up, Draco grabbed the handle of the broom and wrapped his legs tightly around the end. Their dual spiral began to even out and Draco finally leveled his broom. He glanced to his left and saw Harry flying next to him, his face set and determined. "Draco--” An explosion in front of them ripped the words from Harry's mouth. They jerked in opposite directions to avoid it, becoming parallel again as they gained speed. "Where--?" Draco began."Fly, Draco!" Harry screamed, as another curse flew over his shoulder. "Just fly!"And fly they did, heading ever-eastward, trying to get out of the city. They sped around corners, braved dangerous, nearly, suicidal spirals, and wove in and out of narrow streets as they attempted to shake their pursuers. Nearing the edge of the city, Harry began to draw back, shooting counter-curses back at the Death Eaters to try to give Draco a fighting chance of getting away. Draco began to slow, shouting at Harry to hurry.Harry glared so fiercely, his face was nearly distorted. "Go!!" Harry screamed, sending another counter-curse behind him. Draco turned east again and pressed forward, his heart like a drum in his chest. A shout sounded behind him that made Draco looked back. And his drumming heart nearly stopped. Harry, struck by a blazing red curse, fell, unconscious, from his broom and began a deadly free-fall towards the ground. Draco rounded immediately and rushed back, retrieving his wand from his pocket and screaming: "Suspendo Momentum!" Draco plummeted down to catch Harry's body as the Auror's descent slowed, mindful of the Death Eaters swarming down on them. Draco caught hold of Harry around his chest and landed in the middle of a baseball field in some residential neighborhood. Before he could Disapparate, a masked Death Eater grabbed his arm, while another took Harry's unconscious from and dumped him some few feet away. Draco shook off the hand on his arm and glared around at the masked, hooded figures. "Show yourselves!" Draco commanded. One by one, they unmasked themselves. A dozen faces he recognized...and so many he didn't. Crabbe and Goyle were among the betrayals that hurt the most and Draco spat in their faces. "Couldn't leave well enough alone, could you?" Draco sneered. Goyle grinned. "We wanted to be here to serve you, Malfoy. We thought you would be pleased. Isn't that why you killed Lord Voldemort?"Draco gaped at his stupid, open face before he exploded. "No!" he shrieked. "You fucking idiot! No! You think this is a fucking game, do you?! I cannot believe you didn't consult me before--""You were imprisoned at St. Mungo's," Crabbe interjected. Somewhere behind him, a Death Eater Draco didn't recognize chuckled, and Draco realized that Crabbe and Goyle had been duped for muscle, knowing that these two would follow if they thought Draco wanted this of them and that it was all part of his plan. "Merlin, you stupid fucks! I wasn't--""Draco Malfoy," a rolling voice said, rich with laughter. The Death Eaters parted and bowed their heads to the passage of the Gatherer. A few feet from Draco, Harry stirred and, groaning, sat up. Harry blinked and looked up, taking in the faces around him. His gaze lingered on the Gatherer's the longest and he jumped to his feet, astonished. "Cruent?!!" Harry exclaimed, his voice hitting a shrill, unhinged note Draco had never heard from him before. Cruent, the elusive Gatherer, gazed coldly back at him. "Harry," Cruent said, all the laughter gone from his usually merry voice. "You know him?!" Draco asked, shocked at the exchange. "I thought I did," Harry responded after a moment, his astonishment slowly turning into a trembling rage rooted with betrayal. Cruent turned back to Draco with a roll of his eyes. "Congratulations, Draco. You have become the Dark Lord."Draco surged forward and about twelve hands rushed out to hold him back. "How dare you speak to me, you godforsaken fuck? Unhand me!" he snarled, struggling against the Death Eaters that pressed against him. "I will never be the Dark Lord, you hear me, you prick?! I killed him! He's never coming back!"Cruent smiled, his sunny eyes crinkling, bright against the dark gouge in his cheek. "He's already inside of you; a permanent part of the great Maul who wishes to inhabit your body."A tremor streaked through his body and Draco went limp in the hands that held him, hanging his head because he knew he was right. Cruent smiled. "Release him," the Gatherer commanded. When Draco stood alone, Cruent approached him and tenderly caressed Draco's cheek. "Don't touch him!" Harry hissed, but Death Eaters barred his way as he stepped forward. "Maul has offered you a great gift," Cruent murmured, as if speaking to a lover. "He wishes to relay a message to you."Draco raised his tormented gaze and stared blandly back at Cruent. He trembled under the Gatherer's touch. "I will order the death of Harry Potter if you do not succumb to Maul and offer your body up to him as sacrifice," Cruent said in a soft, sweet voice, smiling into Draco's weary face. "But if you do surrender, he will be spared and the connection that ties you two together will be severed."Draco bowed his head again and Cruent drew away, motioning for his Death Eaters to release Harry. Harry stumbled forward, green eyes darting between Draco's hunched form and Cruent's retreating back. "Cruent!" Harry shouted, raising his wand and walking towards him, placing Draco at his back. "Turn and face me, you bloody coward."Cruent paused and turned. A smile split his face nearly in two. "Coward?" Cruent laughed. Then his face fell, surprise sparking in his sunny eyes as they looked past him. The point of a wand pressed between Harry's shoulder blades and Harry turned quickly, raising his wand at the opponent behind him. Shock went through his body like a gust of wind through an open window. Draco stood before him, wand pointed at Harry's throat, looking sad but determined, eyes dark and shadowy. "Harry, I'm activating the Unbreakable Vow."Harry dodged the green bolt of magic as it shot from Draco's wand. In the back of his mind, Harry was certain the curse wouldn't have actually hurt him all that badly and, as he rolled into a crouch and magicked Cruent's broom into his own grasp, Harry knew Draco really was just trying to activate the Vow. What actually worried Harry and had his mind racing furiously, as he mounted the broom and lit into the air, followed closely behind by Draco and his damned spell-casting, was that Draco's eyes had changed when he first attacked him. Harry knew that when Maul got a hold of Draco, his eyes darkened; and though Draco's eyes had yet to turn that awful, pitless black, this turn of events could easily weaken and distract Draco enough for Maul to push back into his body. Harry raised the Shield Charm--somehow stronger since he used it to save Draco in Wisconsin--and whirled his broom around, causing Draco to rear up, surprise twisting his sad, pointed features. "Draco! Enough!""Hold still," Draco whispered before casting a spell that made the magic of the Unbreakable Vow twist and burn inside of Harry's mind; but the Shield Charm deflected it and the Vow held its peace. "Draco, listen to me--""No." Another spell. A blast of green against shimmering gold magic. Still, the Shield held."Draco--"Another spell. The Shield held. "Draco, stop!" A bright yellow charm, the golden magic of the Shield dimmed, then brightened. And held. Frustrated and despairing, Draco took hold of his broom and flew in dizzying circles around Harry, loosing a flurry of spells against the Shield Charm as Harry shouted back at him in vain. The Shield dimmed again; but, again, it continued to hold. "Are you daft?!" Draco screamed coming to a halt before Harry. "You HAVE to kill me! You know that! Lower your Shield!"Harry shook his head. "There has to be another way, Draco. I won't--""YOU HAVE TO!!!" Draco roared, suddenly clutching at his hair and tucking his chin into his chest. "I see faces, all these faces, Harry. And, I swear, I want to kill every single one of them. I want to hurt people, do horrible things. This demon inside of me is getting stronger! You can't let him out, Harry. You HAVE to kill me before he does terrible things wearing my face, with my hands!" "I will, Draco," Harry responded evenly, trying to keep the tremor from his voice. "But it hasn't come to that, not yet. If it does; I have sworn it. But it doesn't have to be now."Draco screamed in frustration, his silver eyes bulging, and let loose another volley of spells, curses that would actually harm Harry severely if his Shield Charm wasn't protecting him so valiantly. The curses began to ricocheted off of the Shield, flying past the crazed Malfoy in an erratic display. Harry's heart jumped into his throat when a red bolted curse flew dangerously close to Draco's left ear and singed the skin there. Draco didn't even flinch and continued to scream curses at Harry until the young Auror lunged through his own Shield Charm and bodily knocked Draco off of his broom. One, two, three punches to Draco's face and Harry twisted the possessed Slytherin's arms behind his back as Harry managed their descent with his knees. Draco struggled against him the entire way and, even when they landed and Harry shoved him to the ground, Draco attacked. Harry pushed him away angrily. The rage that bubbled up from Harry's core so suddenly seemed to engulf him entirely and he shook with it. "I cannot believe you would ask this thing of me," Harry growled, his green eyes spitting fire. "After everything, you would rather force me to kill you than work with me to find another way."The sound of shouting Death Eaters and their Gatherer rumbled in the distance like thunder."Harry--""No, shut up." Harry grasped Draco's shirt collar and forced him to his feet with it. "I am not just a memory, Malfoy! I am a real person with real feelings and this thing you want of me, this last resort you manipulated me into would tear me to pieces. If you cared about me at all you would know that." "There are bigger things at work here than you and me, Potter!"A scream of laughter shot through the gray dawn like lightning. An answering shout. Maul's army was getting closer.Harry gritted his teeth. "Maybe not."Draco tossed his head with a roll of his eyes. "This is no time to be romantic--"A fourth punch to Draco's face silenced him immediately. Harry released Draco's shirt collar, stunned when he realized he may have over done it. Draco crumpled to the ground in a dazed heap, blood pouring from his mouth and nose and nasty bruises blooming along his eye and jaw. "The connection of the Horcrux scar," Harry whispered as he watched Draco wipe blood from his mouth, "is something we can use against this thing. It's what brought us together and what warned me tonight. We might have a weapon--""Harry." One word, said that way, from him. Nothing could stop his heart and his train of thought like the way Draco said his name. Harry watched Draco get his feet under him and stand. Harry watched helplessly as Draco walked towards him, that terrible, sad expression on his pale face breaking Harry's heart. And Harry watched as Draco raised his wand and pressed it against his throat. Harry did not raise his wand. The shouting grew closer. "There they are!" someone shouted. The sound of running footsteps."Harry," Draco whispered. "Please. Please raise your wand."He couldn't. Unbreakable Vow be damned, Harry couldn't do it. Draco would have to kill him first. Black shrouded Death Eaters could be seen only a few yards away from them, the Gatherer strolling lazily behind them all. Draco's eyes welled in frustration. "RAISE YOUR WAND!" he screamed. Harry shook his head and spread his hands wide. "I won't.""Harry!" The young Auror's name caught in his throat."No."The cold chill of the impending dawn seemed to thicken as the Death Eaters came so close, one could see their evil grins."What I'll become if you don't is so much worse than you killing me," Draco all but sobbed. "Please!""We'll get through this another way," Harry whispered, his eyes full of that terrible kindness Dumbledore had looked at Draco with when the Headmaster explained that he wasn't a killer. Despite it all, he wasn't a killer. "Narcissa Malfoy, a martyr to your soul. And you, to mine. You know I can't do this thing. There must be another way."Draco choked on another sob trying to escape his throat as he heard his own words coming back to haunt him. And, like before, Draco was defeated by his own conscience. He felt it as his arm became unbearably heavy and lowered, seemingly of its own accord. Deja vu swamped at him and the only thing that kept him on his feet was the thought of whether or not a person could play martyr twice in one life. Draco didn't think so. He lowered his wand and stepped into Harry's embrace. The Death Eaters descended upon them like a furious black cloud and Harry held Draco close. But any fel blow that may have come never did. Frightened shouts shook the air and a battle crashed around them. Harry raised his eyes and sucked in a breath at what he saw. Aurors, led by one Severus Snape, engaged the Death Eaters, wizard to wizard, as the brilliance of the rising sun washed them all in a bright orange-yellow glow. Pan and Hedwig circled above the battle, crying out when they spotted their masters among the fray. A blur of ginger and Ron was in front of them, looking flushed and relieved to see the pair alive. Ron grasped Harry's robes and led them away from the battle, expertly ducking curses and counter-curses alike. "How did you find us?" Harry shouted over the din, using his body to protect the young Malfoy as they moved. "Snape showed up at the Ministry with Zabini and your owls," Ron shouted back. "After the way you shot off, quite a few of us were willing to believe something was wrong. Stay here." Ron pointed to a nearby Weeping Willow and began heading back into the engagement with the surrounded Death Eaters. "Ron--" Harry shouted when Draco exclaimed: "Zabini?""I'll tell you all about it when I get back!" Ron shouted over his shoulder before disappearing from sight. Harry and Draco stared at one another in dumbfounded disbelief before a grin fit to split Harry's face erupted and was answered by a small smile of Draco's own. A small smile that completely vanished when another figure approached them. "How perfectly adorable," the Gatherer snarled behind them. "Your little masochistic back up plan didn't work, Malfoy? Undone by your own conscience? Pathetic."Draco straightened, his grey eyes flashing angry silver, and curled his fingers into fists. Harry pointedly pushed Draco behind him and stood between the young Malfoy and Cruent, his once-lover. Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek and was surprised by the the thought that this whole scenario seemed to come straight out of one of those awful soap operas his Aunt Petunia used to watch. Harry squared his shoulders; nevertheless, he somehow created this, he usually did, right? And it was his job to fix it. "Cruent, I'm sorry things didn't work out between--"A deep, unfettered shout of laughter exploded from Cruent, his sunny eyes looking manic and wild. Doubling over in his crazed mirth, Cruent slapped his thigh and gasped. "You think I sold my soul to Maul because of a broken heart?" Cruent exclaimed incredulously, his grin wide and crooked. "You think I was so besotted with you that I somehow found out you were more than professionally involved with the Malfoy case and wanted Maul to wear the face of that snobby prick so I could have you forever? You think I'm some victim of unrequited love?" Another shout of laughter shook Cruent’s body and Harry felt his cheeks redden. Harry glanced back at Draco but he was looking at Cruent with a curious expression...like the way a cat ponders a string before it paws at it. "Really, Harry, I always knew you were hopeless, but Merlin!" Cruent straightened and withdrew his wand . "I slept with you so I could get closer to Malfoy. Things really can be that simple."Harry stiffened, his mind going blank. Harry watched Cruent raise his wand and point it at Harry's chest, thoughts, too quick and fleeting to comprehend, rushed through his brain, a strange painful feeling squeezing his heart, and the image of Ginny's smiling face was all he could think of. It never even occurred to him to raise his own wand in defense. Harry watched Cruent's mouth shape words and burst of color exploded from the tip of his wand. Birch and holly, with a hint of mint root. That was what made up Cruent's wand. The only other person Harry knew of that had mint root in the make up of their wand was Ginny. Stupid. Harry felt stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Ginny.Cruent.Draco! Suddenly, Harry found himself sprawled on the ground where Draco had shoved him; out of the way and feeling very, very stupid. And Draco...Draco was engaged in a duel with Cruent, that beautiful wizard dance of battle that made spectators breathless to watch. Harry got to his feet and fumbled for his wand, watching out of the corner of his eye as ragged--but alive--Aurors made their way towards the spectacle to watch, all Death Eaters accounted for, dead or detained. A gasp rippled throughout the crowd when Draco injured Cruent with a Dark Curse of black magic that had small biting serpents crawling from every orifice of the Gatherer's body. Cruent screamed and writhed, the little green snakes drawing blood with their sharp fangs and spreading venom in tiny, torturous increments. Draco approached Cruent's convulsing body, a pitiless expression in his cold, grey eyes, and kicked away Cruent’s wand. Draco continued to stand over Cruent, watching the Gatherer of Darkness go mad with pain. Somehow, Ron made it to Harry's shoulder. "What's he doing, mate?" Ron asked breathlessly."He's torturing him," Harry whispered, surprised at the sound of his own voice. Shaking himself, Harry stepped forward and raised his voice. "Draco Malfoy! That's enough!"Draco glanced back at Harry over his shoulder before turning once again to Cruent. "It is my body. And you were going to let him have it." Without warning, Draco raised his wand again and shouted the Killing Curse. "Avada Kedavra!" Then, he tucked his wand back in his sleeve and left in his wake the dead body of Cruent Mantle. Harry stared open-mouthed at the corpse, seemingly frozen in time. A Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Hufflepuff Graduate, Eve War survivor, friend, lover, and Gatherer of unspeakable Darkness, first ally to Maul the Black Tulpa, traitor, enemy, Cruent Mantle. Smote by Maul's Host. Draco Malfoy.Black poetry. Bad faith. "Turn away, Harry," Draco murmured somewhere near his shoulder. They weren't Hogwarts students anymore, no one was fully innocent. There were no children here fighting a war against darkness. Not like the last time. This was worse. Harry turned away. ~~Severus Snape and Blaise Zabini stood side by side and watched the Aurors Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley Disapparate Draco Malfoy to Ministry of Magic from a distance. Hard at work, the remaining Aurors steadily combed and cleaned the area surrounding them. Zabini and Snape exchanged a long look. “That was awfully close,” Blaise said, unusually somber. Snape nodded. “Back to the Ministry, then?”Snape nodded again, eyes dark and thoughtful. “I don’t think Scrimgeour is going to like what he is about to hear.”Blaise shoved his hands in his pockets. “Neither is Draco, I don’t think.”Severus regarded his godson’s closest friend. “Draco is no fool. I’m sure nothing the Minister will throw at him will surprise him. It’s Potter I’m concerned about.”“It would be worse if Potter was taken off this case.”“More than you can imagine.”Blaise rubbed at his eyes blearily and shook out a yawn. “Well, then. Shall we?”Severus nodded and Dispparated.Blaise grinned, and did the same. ~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. A/N: Hey all! A reviewer said something about Harry having a Hero Complex. Yes! Yes, he does. At the end of the day, he's got to save it. And so, this chapter was most definitely inspired by that review. You'll see, lol. Thank you and enjoy! "I still have my soul. It's mine; all mine." ~Bruce Cambell; Bubba Ho-tep"Parting is such sweet sorrow." ~William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet"You will stand at the crossroads and choose; and choose again." ~Kushiel's Dart ~A Crossroads~Sunrise...The Hero Complex. Harry Potter had it in spades. Draco Malfoy felt his lip curl as he kept his gaze fixed on the back of his secret lover's unruly head. Four Aurors surrounded him as they walked steadily through the maze of the Ministry of Magic, garnering obtrusive and blatant stares from all directions. Harry and his partner Ronald Weasley led the five of them through the winding halls, neither daring to sneak a glance behind them. Draco could tell Harry was tense by the set of his shoulders and the stiffness of his determined march. A magicked airplane flew directly into Ron Weasley's hand and, after reading its contents, turned his head in to whisper in Harry's ear. Draco's immediate pang of jealousy was muted by his surprise when they abruptly changed direction and headed for the Minister's own office. Draco had assumed he would be held in some sort of interrogation room. The Aurors had already confiscated his wand. Their steps were brisk and purposeful; but, even so, Draco was slightly amazed at how calm he felt. He felt as though he were walking in a dream, that everything was some surreal passage of time that had him fixed at its center even though he imagined he was outside of it all and looking in. "If I take you straight to the Ministry with this crazy story about you turning into the most evil creature mankind has ever known," Harry had said so precious few hours ago, "you might just disappear within the Ministry and some story about you breaking your neck in Asia will show up in the Daily Prophet.”By rights, Draco knew he should be terrified. He had that much sense. Strange, though, that he wasn't. Darkness stirred inside of him like a prodded snake. Perhaps not. They paused at the Minister's door before being admitted. Draco stopped himself from rolling his eyes when he spotted Hermione Granger standing beside the Minister's desk, wringing her hands. Of course, the blasted Gryffindor triumvirate that he personally tormented all those years at Hogwarts would all be present at the downfall of Draco Malfoy. His godfather, Severus Snape stood at the other end of the Minister's desk; and behind him was Blaise Zabini. Draco had spotted him before they had Apparated outside of the Ministry but had not been permitted to speak to him. Draco sent a bland glare in his direction and Blaise returned his gaze calmly. Something strange flickered behind Blaise's golden eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had come and Draco was unable to name it. The coiled snake inside of him stirred but remained quiet. The Minister himself was perched comfortably on the corner of his desk, his hands a relaxed pile on his leg. His expression was pleasant and gave nothing away. And Draco knew, he knew, his godfather had already told him. He didn't know how, but he knew. And Harry did too. Even if he tried to conceal his emotions, Harry was terrible at it and wore everything on his sleeve Including that damned Hero Complex. The four Aurors flanked around Draco, creating a human cage of sorts and Harry and Ron went to stand by Hermione, though Harry seemed as though he would like to be elsewhere. Draco almost smiled. It was endearing, to see him so uncomfortable on Draco's behalf. Ah, well.Nearly a full minute passed before anything happened. It seemed everyone was waiting on Minister Scrimgeour to speak. "I'd like to apologize, on behalf of the Ministry of Magic," Scrimgeour said finally, "for this whole sordid mess. The Aurors assigned to your case were too young and inexperienced to handle this...unforeseeable turn of events and that was my mistake.""Oh, nonsense, Minister," Draco said with a polite smile and a courtly flick of his wrist. "Potter's been nothing but professional, strong, brave, and true. Weasley as well, I'm sure--""Draco," Harry breathed, startled. "Oh, shut up, Harry," Draco replied with a wry smile. "You know I don't mean a word of it." A private grin flashed across Harry's lips and he ducked his head to hide it; but not before Hermione saw it and frowned. Scrimgeour looked between Draco and Harry and pursed his lips. Then he stood and clasped his hands behind his back. Pacing, Scrimgeour sighed. "And what to do now?"To that, Draco said nothing. "Granger and Professor Snape tell me there is a potion they can brew that can keep this...this Tulpa inside of you at bay for a time," Scrimgeour went on to say. The Minister paused and looked hard at Draco. "You do realize you cannot leave our..." Scrimgeour searched for the word. "...'protection' until we've dealt with this thoroughly?"Protection. Right. The snake inside of him raised its head and hissed; the darkness lurched.Draco nodded. "So." Scrimgeour looked around the room, his gaze resting finally on Harry; who was now so tense he could not even look the Minister in the face. "Draco Malfoy, I am very sorry. With all you have done for the Wizarding World, it depresses me that we have to treat you thus in order to take the necessary precautions. However..." Scrimgeour pulled his hands from behind his back and steepled his fingers in front of him, pausing to look Draco squarely in the eyes. He was a brave man, in his own way. Draco had to give him that. "You will be given quarters in Azkaban until we have all this sorted."Draco almost laughed. He was just there a few hours ago, burning his father's body outside the island in the Dementor's Circle."Minister!" Harry shouted. The Aurors surrounding Draco tensed. Draco saw Severus and Blaise exchange a startled glance out of the corner of his eye. Hermione Granger continued to ring her hands. And Ronald Weasley, smarter than Draco ever gave him credit for, eyed Harry warily and unobtrusively prepared to draw his wand. Hero Complex be damned. Scrimgeour raised his hand, demanding silence. "I cannot allow such a danger to roam free.""You can't send him to AZKABAN!" Harry retorted. "I can and I will." Scrimgeour replied calmly; though, Draco saw sadness in his beady eyes. "Take him away." Scrimgeour turned away. Draco felt obligated to burn holes in the man's back, but he wasn't angry; not really. Four pairs of hands grabbed Draco roughly. "Minister!" Harry shouted, his eyes full of fear. It was then that Draco remembered Harry had watched Dementors suck the soul from his father's body in Azkaban. Draco wondered if that would be his fate as well. It would be a sure fire way to rid the world of Maul the Black Tulpa. The Dementor's Kiss. Draco shuddered.Burning magical chains handcuffed Draco's wrists and shackled his ankles. "Minister, may I speak to you alone?!" Harry cried, quickly losing his cool. Four pairs of hands began to drag Draco from the room. "Minister!" Harry seemed trapped, debating whether to pursue the Minister or the Aurors taking Draco away. "May I speak with you alone?!"Scrimgeour remained as he was, silent and unmoving. Three quick strides and Harry was struggling through the four Aurors that surrounded Draco. "Potter!" one said gruffly. "Don't make me hex you!" Draco saw that Weasley had drawn his wand, but continued to watch carefully. Draco envied that trust. Harry's eyes were wild when Draco met his gaze. Draco smiled gently. "No, Harry.""I will not let them take you to Azkaban!" Harry hissed, struggling. "Then don't," Draco replied calmly. "But not this way."Harry shut his eyes briefly. What he thought in those few moments, Draco never knew. But then Harry backed away with his hands raised, looking abruptly calm and collected. "Alright," Harry murmured. "Alright."Then the door was shut in Draco's face and he was led away. ~~Immediately, Snape, Zabini, and Harry began speaking at once, protesting Draco's imprisonment. Scrimgeour, looking suddenly old and tired, walked slowly behind his desk and sat down, resting his head in his hands. "He is a Hero of the Wizarding World," Snape said, hiding his panic beneath his surly disposition. "This decision was ill-advised, Minister.""A Hero who is possessed by a great evil and tortured a man with dark magic before killing him with an Unforgivable--quite illegal--Curse," came Scrimgeour's muffled response."That man was Maul's Gatherer," Blaise reminded him. "Nevertheless."Whatever Harry was saying--which was much of the same--he stopped and looked towards Hermione and Ron. Ron exchanged a glance with his fiancée and then looked back at Harry. Harry tilted his head to one side and Ron shrugged. The two of them had learned long before how to speak without words. "I know how to get it out of him."Everything seemed to stop when the words spilled from Harry's mouth. Harry took a deep breath. "I will tell you if you will reconsider."Scrimgeour lifted his head. "I'm listening."Harry glanced at Hermione. "Maximus Cure."Scrimgeour's eyes drifted to one corner as he tried to place the name. "I'm sorry, I don't..." Scrimgeour's eyes widened. "Oh.""The Inversion Echantratem. We know that it won't kill Malfoy because he's survived it already." "Minister, I wouldn't have a clue how to make it," Hermione interjected with an apologetic glance Harry's way. "Unfortunately," Snape drawled. "Neither would I.""So we need Cure." Scrimgeour shook his head. "Magical borders are closed. We would have no way of retrieving this man."Blaise spoke up at that. "Minister, I can take care of that."Scrimgeour narrowed his eyes. "How?""If you allow that to go unanswered," Blaise replied smoothly, "you can claim plausible deniability."Minutes passed as Scrimgeour mulled this over and Harry's heart raced in anticipation. Finally, Scrimgeour scribbled a note on a scrap of paper, charmed it into a flying paper plane, and sent it out the door. "Draco Malfoy will reside in Cell Block C--""Minister--""--until Granger and Professor Snape have the potion to hold Maul quiet," Scrimgeour finished. The Minister looked up at Harry, a gentle smile in his eyes. "Then he can have my quarters here at the Ministry, provided he does not leave and a guard of no less than four Aurors remain posted."Harry released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Thank you, Minister.""You have one month," Scrimgeour continued, his voice hardening. "Thirty days and no more. If you haven't found a way to destroy this thing once you get it out of him by then, I will send him to Azkaban indefinitely. Have I made myself clear?"Harry swallowed. The Dementor's Kiss. "Transparently, sir.""Minister," Blaise murmured. Scrimgeour nodded and Blaise swept from the office, robes billowing and all the self-importance only a Pureblood could muster. Severus and Hermione spoke briefly to the Minister about the potion--which they called Markaghirelle--and claimed it should be ready within thirty-six hours. Then, they too, were dismissed. Ron and Harry lingered behind and when the door shut behind their old Potions Master, Scrimgeour let out a dry laugh. "Yes, you are still assigned to the Malfoy Case. Get out of my office."Relieved, they obliged. ~~An Auror afore Draco snatched a paper plane from the air. Again, their party abruptly changed direction; and when Draco realized they were headed back within the Ministry, he wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed. Between the bobbing heads of his guards, Draco spotted Blaise Zabini walking briskly past them. Time seemed to freeze when they made eye contact and Draco felt cold all over. Blaise did not slow his pace or give any other sign of acknowledgement but Draco turned in a full circle as Blaise walked by, trying to keep him in sight. Again, four pairs of hands grabbed him and the chains binding his wrists and feet burned fiercely. Draco did not struggle and soon they arrived at their destination. It was, quite literally, a cage. A perfect square of magicked bars, impenetrable from the inside and out; ten feet long, ten feet wide, and ten feet high. Surrounding the cage was an equally square room and Draco jumped slightly when the large iron door shut behind them and was bolted. The Auror who had received the charmed paper plane waved his wand and one wall of bars sunk noisily into the ground. Then, the Auror removed the chains binding his wrists and ankles. Taking his cue, Draco stepped inside and the wall was replaced. Draco turned in a circle and watched, mildly interested, as a small cot appeared, then a sink, and finally a urinal. Draco raised his eyes to his four-man guard, who stood on each side of the cell, gazing impersonally back at him. One was fair, with gentle brown eyes and a haunted look about him that suggested he had seen things too ghostly to ever be surprised by anything. Another, the Auror with the charmed paper plane, whom Draco assumed was the leader of sorts, was gruff and heavy-handed, with a head of balding black hair and sunken blue eyes. He, too, looked like a weary veteran. The third was an older man with a salt and pepper beard and a pair of dark brown eyes, eyes that seemed to see too much and was bitter for it. The last was thin and tall, with a beak for a nose and the kindest, hazel eyes Draco had ever seen. It was when searching his gaze that Draco realized his 'guard' was relieved at their change of destination. "Welcome to Cell Block C, Mr. Malfoy," the beak-nosed, kind-eyed one said. "My name is Heroth. Breakfast will be served in under an hour and our shift will change out. You are ordered to remain here until further notice with no less than four guard at all times. The Minister asks us to extend his personal apologies for the rough hospitality."Draco nodded and offered a rueful smile. "Thank you, Heroth. I'm sure this is a holiday compared to Azkaban. I am not complaining." The gruff, balding, blue-eyed one snorted softly. "You must be nothing like your father, then."Draco's cold grey eyes swiveled over to him and beheld the man with a withering stare. "One must wonder if that is an entirely good thing, Auror." Draco lifted his sleeve and revealed the mangled, scarred Dark Mark still visible in stark black pieces on his forearm. "I may prove to be worse."The gentle-eyed, haunted one approached the cell, a strange look on his face. "Gasse," the gruff, blue-eyed one warned.Gasse ignored him and regarded Draco quietly. "Young man, no one here wants anymore Hell on Earth. It might behoove you to avoid proving anything at all."Inside of him, the coiled snake shifted, lifted its horrible head and hissed, loosing a terrible echo of laughter Draco struggled to keep at bay. He sat on the cot and wrapped his arms around himself, rocking as he pressed his lips tightly against the dark, manic laughter that bubbled inside of him. Draco shut his eyes and his head swam. Evil laughter rang off of the walls in his head, drowning out everything else, and Draco saw the burning of Rome. He saw a Persian army pillaging, the assassination of the Romanoff’s, concentration camps under the rule of Adolf Hitler, a ring of Death Eaters surrounding a tortured pregnant woman. He saw rape and murder. He saw blood and gore and hate and rage. He saw unspeakable darkness running crimson red as it drew a gash through the ages. It filled him up, saturated him. He could taste it on his tongue, feel it on his body. And all he heard was that terrible, terrible laughter. Draco sunk to his knees and clutched at his head. Your Gatherer is dead, Draco thought fiercely. He is dead. I killed him. He is dead. He is dead. He is dead. Slowly, the laughter faded to a loud breathing as it listened to Draco's thoughts. I will fight you, Draco thought. I will. You are weak and your allies are gone. Your Gatherer is dead. I will leave my handprint on your soul, Maul whispered back. There is enough darkness here to sustain me for a lifetime. Not my soul. Yes, your soul. Bitterness of your mother's death. Hatred of your father. Mistrust of your friends. Scorn, apathy, anger. Guilt. Ah, there is much guilt here. And you are alone. Such loneliness. Years of isolation in the wilderness can breed such darkness, such hopelessness. It is all here. All here. It is mine. It is darkness nonetheless. And I will devour it like a babe devours milk. It will make me strong. Then I will have you. No.Oh, yes. You will lose. Even if I do, I will leave my handprint on your soul. It is my soul, my darkness. You may not have it. You may not have me. The laughter returned. It is mine! And Draco pushed with all his might, pushed it down into his depths, burying it with any bright memory he could think of. Maul laughed harder when Draco tried to throw memories of his mother, of Pansy, of times at Hogwarts at him, feeding on the bitterness that came with it. Then, with a gasp, Draco thought of Harry. Harry fighting through the storms of his memory to calm him. Harry eating breakfast. Harry with his mouth all over his body. Harry with his surprising smile, a flash of merry white teeth, a wonderful crinkling at the corners of his beryl eyes. Harry and his godamned, Merlin-forsaken Hero Complex. "I hate this.""But not me?""No, not you."Draco smothered Maul with every sunny, aching, wonderful thought and feeling he could muster, Harry Potter's name a chant in his thoughts. And suddenly, he could breathe again. Gasse was there watching. And so was Heroth. And the other two. Draco climbed onto the cot and laid his head on its meager pillow, willing air in and out of his lungs in slow, steady breaths. His guard did not speak; and whatever they thought, Draco really, truly couldn't care less. Draco stared across his cell and fixed his gaze on the small sink. And thought of Harry. The only beacon of light his memories seemed to hold true for him. ~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~The Seven Keys~Harry's steps pattered noisily on the tiled floor as he moved across the main forum of the Ministry of Magic. Whispers followed him as he passed and Harry ignored them like he usually did. They saw him and Ron Weasley lead Draco Malfoy, caged like a wild thing between four highly trained Aurors, through Ministry of Magic and directly to the Minister's Office. Others also witnessed those same four Aurors conduct him back down to the forum and then back into the Ministry after recieving a memo from Scrimgeour himself. What they thought, Harry knew must be crazy. Somehow, Harry knew none of it would be close to the truth. Ron marched quietly next to him, lifting his head to peer at Harry every once and a while like he was on the verge of sayng something. They had been on their way to the mess hall to snag a bite for breakfast before debriefing; but then Harry had winced, turned on his heel, and took off briskly in the opposite direction. Ron followed.Though, in all sincerety, Ron wonderd if Harry realized that he was even there. For many minutes of following his best mate down three stories and seemingly endless, winding halls, Ron watched Harry march on, his head in some other place. Harry seemed dazed and driven at the same time, his bright green eyes concentrating on something Ron couldn't fathom. However, Ron could see the strain of exhaustion, stress, and worrying all over his dearest friend. His bright beryl gaze was dimmed by shadowy circles lining his eyes, his mouth seemed fixed into a harsh frown, and his very stature seemed rigid and taut, like a bow strung too tight and ready to snap. Ron had seen this before. Finally realizing that Harry was headed to Cell Block C, Ron reached out a hand and stopped Harry with a firm grasp on the young Auror's shoulder. Harry looked over at hm and blinked slowly, like he was seeing Ron for the fiirst time in a long time. "No," Ron said. Harry's frown deepened. "No, what?""You need rest," Ron stated firmly. "Leave Malfoy be.""He was fighting Maul," Harry protested softly, swaying slightly on his feet. "I could feel it. And I heard my name. Draco was saying it. Then the struggle faded."Ron blinked. "Harry, what is it exactly that you think you can do now?""He was calling for me," Harry said stubbornly. "I have to see if he's okay.""You said it faded.""I have to see if he's okay.""Merlin, Harry!" Ron exclaimed, turning the heads of a few passerby's. "Look at yourself. Your exhausted. You need sleep and a few hours to relax. You're in no state to help anybody."Harry turned his face away. "Even so."Beginning to get frustrated, Ron tightened his grip on Harry's shoulder and shook him. "One visit and then you go straight home and take the rest of the day off. You have to promise me. I don't want to see you back here until tommorrow morning."Harry turned back to Ron, looking incredulous. "Are you mad? What if the Tulpa comes back? The potion's not ready yet and we still haven't found a way to kill it once we seperate it from Draco's body. I can't just take a day off, Ron! This is my job!"Ron nodded, looking severe. "You've done your job; now let everyone else do theirs. 'Mione and Snape are working on the potion, Malfoy's not going anywhere and we've got four Auror veterans watching him around the clock. Even Blaise is helping us get Cure. I'll be here in case anything bizarre happens. You can take the day off, mate. The world won't end if you get a few hours rest, Harry." "We need to figure out a way to kill it! We've only thirty days, Ron!""Yeah, and we'll start on day two." Ron set his chin, looking unmovable. Harry sighed. "Fine.""Promise," Ron demanded, adamant."I promise."Satisfied, Ron bowed, sweeping his arm out in a dramatic fashion. The gesture was so out of character for his best mate that Harry actually smiled. Soon, they were at the entrance of the Ministry of Magic's isolated Cell Block. They made short time of going through the screenings and wards that barracaded certain personnel and admitted few others. Being the Head Aurors on the Malfoy Case, they were admitted without question. Once inside, Harry seemed to freeze in the doorway of Cell Block C, his gaze fixated on the perfect square of charmed bars that caged Draco Malfoy. Ron gave him a discreet nudge. Entering, Harry circled the cell at a few paces away, trying to get a better view. Draco appeared to be sleeping. But, no. Draco's pale grey eyes, that seemed frostier against the slate of the iron bars, lifted to meet Harry's when he came into view. Harry hesitated when he took in Draco's haggard appearance. Never had he seen him look so...worn, not even in his Pensieve. If Harry had shadows beneath his eyes, Draco's were deeper and darker. He looked paler than usual, unkempt, and tired. And when he finally stirred, rising to sitting position on the meager cot that Cell Block C afforded him, Harry saw the cut on his lip, the nasty gash above his left eye, and the purpling bruises that stood out so garishly against his pale skin, along his jaw and high on his cheekbone. Harry swallowed guiltily, knowing he had given him those. "Ice," Harry said, his voice hoarse. Ron and the other Aurors stood umoving, glancing at one another questioningly. Harry turned to them. "Bring me ice!" Heroth headed for the door. "I'll get it."Harry turned back to Draco, his eyes roaming over the blemishes he had inflicted on his lover's face and feeling remorseful. He had to hit him. He had to. Harry let the morning's events replay in his mind, remembering the panic in Draco's face as he roared curses against Harry's valiant Shield Charm; and, more importantly, remembering his eyes growing darker and darker. If there was one thing Harry knew about darkness, it was that it fed on despair like nothing else. His own despair was the deadliest weapon Voldemort had once threatened him with. And despair was what was weakening Draco to Maul in those final moments before Harry knocked him off of his broom. Then, it had vanished completely when Draco killed Cruent. Well, executed him was more like it. Even so, Harry could not gainsay Draco's actions. It was obvious that Draco severely weakened the Black Tulpa by destroying his Gatherer. "It is my body," Draco had said as he stood over the tortured Cruent, venomous snakes pouring out of every orifice in his body. "And you were going to let him have it." Harry wondered if there was more to this puzzle than he was comprehending. Heroth returned with the ice and handed it over to Harry wrapped in a cloth. "Thank you," Harry said with a nod. "Now give us the room.""Harry--" Ron began."Give us the room," Harry repeated, a stubborn note to his voice that Ron easily recognized. "Then give me your wand," Ron replied, holding out his hand. Immediately, Harry handed it over and Ron gave it to Gasse. Afterward, they all vacated the room and shut the door, leaving Harry and Draco a small amount of privacy. Only then did Harry approach the bars, handing Draco the ice. "You look terrible."Draco took the ice and held it to his cheek. "You look like you could use some rest yourself."Harry smiled ruefully. "So I'm told."Draco sunk down and sat crosslegged on the cold floor, as if his legs wouldn't hold him upright for vey long. Harry sat as well, liking the nearness of it, and leaned his head against the magic bars. "You're not eating," Harry said, noting the untouched breakfast tray."I'm not hungry.""I came because I felt--""I know."Harry's eyes fluttered closed. "Can you hold out until the potion is made?""Yes," came Draco's answer. "Are you sure?""Yes.""You called my name.""No, I didn't."Harry opened his eyes and turned his face so he could better see Draco's. The Malfoy heir was gazing back at Harry, his eyes soft as he leant his head against the foot of the cot. "I said your name, I didn't call it," Draco said, a secret smile playing at the corner of his mouth. Harry grunted, too tired to play one of Malfoy's games. "What did it want?""The usual.""Ah."A moment passed where neither said anything. "Why was the Gatherer important to Maul?" Harry mused aloud."Because only the Gatherer knows how to cast away souls without ridding the Host of the Black Tulpa," Draco answered, as if this knowledge had always been inside his head all along. However, when Harry turned to look at Draco again, the Slytherin seemed surprised at his own words. "The Gatherer seals the Black Tulpa inside of the Host," Draco continued. "Without his Gatherer, Maul would have to work harder to cast out the Host's soul and claim the body.""'The Gatherer is hosted and calls in the Night...'" Harry said, quoting the Prophecy. "So you threw a wrench in his Prophecy when you killed the Gatherer."Draco was unsure what a wrench was but he nodded anyway. "I suppose so.""'The Gatherer is hosted and calls in the Night...'" Harry quoted again, suddenly feeling sick. "Draco...do you think Cruent was possessed too?"Draco was quiet for a moment, waiting for an answer to pop into his mind like the last one did. But thre was none forthcoming. "I don't know," Draco murmured finally. "Harry, I'm so sorry."Harry turned away, slumping down further. He squeezed his eyes shut against the sound of Cruent screaming as Draco tortured him. Harry didn't like this bitter cold feeling in his chest. Harry jumped when Draco wrapped an arm around his torso through the bars, holding him in a loose embrace. Harry turned into it, rising to his knees and reaching out to hold the back of Draco's neck. Harry pressed his forehead against Draco's lightning bolt scar, the cold bars sparking against the magic their connection elicited. "I'll get you out of here," Harry said. "You just hold out until that potion is ready.""I'm so sorry, Harry," Draco repeated, his grey eyes wide with guilt, searching his lover's gaze for what he felt. "I'm so sorry.""I'm going to study the Prophecy to see if there is any glich we can use against this thing.""Harry, I'm so sorry.""Ron wants me to take the day off.""Harry!" "What?"Draco waited until Harry met his gaze, trying not to read too much into the pain he saw there. "Merlin, I'm sorry, Harry. I'm so sorry. I don't know why I tortured him like that. I don't know why I played with him and hurt him like I did. But I can't say that it was Maul doing it. I can't say that." Draco took in a deep breath. "When I looked at him, I saw the man that wanted to rip my soul out of my body and give me over to this thing inside of me. I saw the man that crept into your bed to get closer to that goal. I saw the man that used you to use me and I wanted to hurt him. It was blinding and irrational, but I wanted it and so I did it. And then I killed him. Mercilessly. I swear, Harry, I didn't feel a thing. I'm so, so sorry. I murdererd someone you cared about and I didn't think--""No, no, shh..." Harry wished he could hold Draco closer, he wished he could do so many things that he couldn't; but there were tears streaming down Draco's pale, haggard face and he didn't know how to comfort him. "I don't know if Cruent was ever worth any of this...or if he was ever more than Maul's tool; but I'll tell you one thing, Draco: I probably would have done the same thing if our roles were swapped."Draco didn't answer as he dashed at his face with the back of one hand, irratibly wiping away his tears as if they were shameful. "I'm so sorry, Harry."Harry pressed his lips to Draco's brow before rising to his feet. "I'll get you out of here as soon as I can."Draco nodded and rose to sit on his cot. Harry crossed the room but paused at the door. "I know in my gut that Cruent's not worth your tears, Draco," Harry murmured. Draco raised his head, meeting Harry's gaze. "But it makes me feel better," Harry continued, "knowing you think he is. It means you're winning against this bastard Maul." "Does it?"Harry offered a faint, encouraging smile. "I think so." Harry knocked three times on the door and Draco's guards were re-admitted. Harry left Cell Block C and did not look back. This time, he didn't feel he needed to. This time, Draco almost wished he had. ~~Ron walked Harry back to the Main Forum, their steps brisk and full of intention. Harry spoke to him in low tones the entire way. "Ron, I need you to brief everyone involved in this case; make sure everyone is on the same page. Draco's gaurd who aren't on shift, the Auror's who aided in Wisconsin, the Minister, Hermione, and Snape."Ron nodded, his bright red hair falling into his eyes. "Yes, I was thinking that. What about Blaise?""To be blunt, mate," Harry said, "I don't entirely trust the man.""I agree," Ron responded, tossing his hair out of his eyes. "What is he doing here?""I don't even think Snape is sure," Harry murmured, glancing over his shoulder. "We might do well to look into that."Ron nodded again. "I want a full update on the progress of the Markaghirelle when I return in the morning," Harry said, adjusting his Auror's robes around his shoulders. "Have Hermione get it on my desk first thing.""Aye aye, your highness."Harry grinned before turning serious again as he paused before the exit. "During your briefing, make sure to analyze and interpret every possible meaning and crux of Maul's Prophecy. It's imperitive that we know how to kill this thing as soon as possible."Ron reached out and laid a hand on Harry's shoulder, squeezing it slightly. "You got it, mate. Get some rest. I mean it.""I really hate to break up such affectionate comeraderie," Snape drawled, approaching in a swirl of black robes. "But, surely, some things are better left for a more private setting."Harry and Ron turned to scowl at their old Potions Master. "Aren't you supposed to be brewing a potion to save our godson?" Ron replied, his lip curling even though his insides began to knot up. He really, really hated this man. Snape sneered. "Oh, yes. However, Ms. Granger brought it to my attention that the two witless wonders that are in charge of my godson's case didn't know what the Seven keys were."Ron felt Harry freeze next to him. "Well, don't leave us in suspense, Snape," Harry grated. "Really, Potter, I had expected more from you," Snape replied lazily, his black eyes sharp and contemptuous. "You had, after all, spent a considerable amount of time hunting them down in order to defeat Lord Voldemort."Harry sucked in a breath. "Horcruxes!" Harry felt a piece of the expanding puzzle slide into place. "Yes," Snape said. "I believe Voldemort promised Maul a Host if he relinquished the secret to the Horcruxes."Harry's eyes widened before he pushed forward, trying to shoulder his way past Ron and Snape and back into the Ministry. Ron shoved him back. "No, Harry! Go home and rest.""How the hell am I supposed to rest now, Ron--""Figure it out," Ron exclaimed, jabbing his finger towards the door, his patience slipping. "Ron--""Go!"Harry took one last look at Ron's face and realized that his partner was prepared to drag him to his flat himself if he had to. Harry sighed, turned, and went. "You," Ron said, gesturing to Snape. "Get back to work. If any more useful tidbits come into your oily head, you send a goddamned memo."Snape reared up, indignant. "When did you earn the rght to order me about, Weasley?""When you began wasting precious, invaluable time to start scenes with Harry Potter in the Main Forum of the Ministry of Magic!" Ron hissed, his temper all but lost and giving him a smidge of courage. "Now get back to saving your godson's sanity. I thought that was important to you!"Snape sent him a withering glare before storming off, leaving Ron to throw up his hands. Across the forum, Dolores Umbridge--demoted after her behavior during the war, but still very, very capable of starting trouble...and enough malice-laced cause to do so--smiled her pink, plump-faced smile. "Well, well, well; what is going on here?" If there were three people she had it out for, it was Hermione Granger, her simpering Auror fiancee Ronald Weasley, and his celebrity, no-good partner Harry Potter. But most especially, Harry Potter.For he must not tell lies.~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. “A Pact is made on the Quest for Immortality…...a God of Darkness relinquishes the Seven Keys…...a Promise fulfilled in a Pure Womb…...a Child born to Heal severed Lines…...a Marking of the Near-Man…...when the Dark Lord perishes at the Hands of Love half-remembered…...The Gatherer is hosted and calls in the Night…...a Sacrifice is laid on the Alter of Justice…...and Purity wears the Face of Maul…...Darkness reigns over the Land of Men…...so be quiet Child…...for the Black Tulpa fears only the Eighth Key.” ~Chapter 31 "A Secret Prophecy" ~The Sword of Godric Gryffindor~After waving the wards he constructed to safegaurd his flat in London, Harry unlocked the front door and stepped inside. Harry closed the door behind him and reconstructed the wards with a flick of his wand. Afterwards, Harry slid his robes off of his shoulders and tossed them over a nearby chair, kicking off his shoes. Unbuttoning his shirt, Harry made his way down the main hall. It was a simple enough flat with one bedroom, one bathroom that had a small plumbing issue Harry had yet to figure out, a living space and a kitchen. Sparse funiture--a couch, a chest of drawers, and a bed. Oh, and a lamp. The fridge had a variety of condiments in it, but not much else. Harry felt uncomfortable with too many possessions. He'd never really had many, so he opted to get by with just what he needed and not much more. So, that included clothes, of course, his collection of brooms, his things from Hogwarts, a single Gryffindor banner, a framed picture of his parents, a photo album, and many, many books. Harry had only read a few of them, but Hermione kept buying him more. Harry finished unbuttoning his shirt and took it off, tossing it to one corner. He paused before the bedroom and decided against going in. Harry turned back and headed into the living room, running a hand through his hair and sighing. Cruent had always said he thought Harry lived like a pauper when he didn't need to. Ron and Hermione always had a guest room available for Harry in their flat if he wanted to sleep there; and this he had done on times too numerous to count. As much as Harry wanted to be alone, he didn't really like it. Harry collapsed onto his couch, moving only to empty his pants pocket of his wand. And what was more, Harry felt strange, falling asleep alone when he had become so used to sleeping in the cradle of Draco Malfoy's arms. Harry kept his wand clutched in his hand as he drifted into oblivion. ~~When he awoke, the day was shadowy with the impending sunset. Harry sat up and rubbed his eyes, blinking away the remaining drowsiness. He was hungry. On a whim, Harry called for Slightly and was surprised when she popped in the room. Slightly's large watery eyes looked around the strange room as she approached Harry timidly. "Master's Harry Potter called, sir. Master told Slightly to always answer to Mr. Harry Potter. Whatever Mr. Harry Potter needs, Slightly will get for you, sir."Something tightened in Harry's chest. "Thank you, Slightly. I didn't know you would come here."Slightly looked at him strangely. "Then why did Harry Potter call Slightly, if he didn't think Slightly would come, sir?"Harry smiled a little. "I don't know."Slightly fidgeted with the hem of the sack she wore. "Did Harry Potter need something in particular?"Harry nodded. "I am hungry, Slightly."Slightly bowed and disappeared. Moments later, she returned with a large steaming bowl of stew. Harry accepted it gratefully and Slightly watched him eat. "How did you make this so quickly?" Harry asked between mouthfuls. Slightly shrugged. "I always make the meals for Master and Master's Harry Potter in case they are hungry. It is good that I do. Then Master's Harry Potter will not go hungry. Where is Master? He has not called Slightly for supper."Harry lowered the bowl. "Draco's at the Ministry of Magic."Slightly's shoulders slumped. "Oh."Harry finished what he could of the stew and put the bowl aside. "Thank you, Slightly."Slightly bobbed her head but did not pop away. "With Harry Potter's permission, can Slightly tidy up here?"Harry looked around his flat. Dishes were piled high in the sink, clothes were strewn everywhere, and everything had a layer of dust on it. Harry nodded. "Couldn't hurt.""Slightly thanks Master's Harry Potter."As Slightly scurried off, Harry took his wand and used it to transfigure a wall in his living room into a chalkboard. "Alright," Harry murmured, taking a piece of chalk and began to write with it. ~~At the Ministry of Magic...*Ron stood before the room full of people he had assembled, feeling somewhat sick but resolved to get this over with anyway. "Analyze and interpret," Ron said, beginning to write on the board behind him. "The Prophecy may hold the secret to killing the Black Tulpa. Those of you assembled all understand what's at stake here?"Two dozen heads nodded. Ron met Hermione's gaze, her confidence in him giving him strength. Snape was there too, a surly presence in the room. Hermione assured Ron that the potion was brewing and they could be excused to attend the briefing. Anin and Mackle were there and so were every Auror that had been involved in the Wisconsin accident. Heroth and Gasse were there with Lanel, Bishop, and all the other Veterans that had been re-assigned to guarding Malfoy, minus the four that were watching him at the present time. The Minister was there with his secretary, a sweet face girl by the name of Mary Heart. Two others were present from Muggle Affairs, Trisha Knockwood and Sam Little. Blaise was already gone and no one attempted to locate him. The air in the room was stifling, and Ron pulled at his collar. "Good," Ron said. "Let's go through this piece by piece..."~~Harry's Flat...**"'A Pact is made on the Quest for Immortality…a God of Darkness relinquishes the Seven Keys…a Promise fulfilled in a Pure Womb…'," Harry murmured as he wrote. "Now known to be the agreement between Voldemort and Maul. Voldemort supplies the Host and Maul supplies the Seven Keys. Horcruxes. Voldemort fails and Draco survives, but is unconscious for three years. During which time a warrant is discovered, offering obscene sums of money for the murder of Draco Malfoy..."~~Ministry of Magic...**"'...a Promise fulfilled in a Pure Womb...a Child born to Heal severed Lines…'," Ron quoted as he scribbled on the board at the front of the room. "Again, seemingly obvious--""Narcissa Malfoy married in from the Black blood-line," Severus Snape murmured. "She was considered 'pure' by default. Her unioun with Lucius Malfoy was supposed to 'purify' the Malfoy line with their heir.""So, Draco Malfoy is the Promise fulfilled in Narcissa's womb," Anin said. "And he is the 'child born to heal severed lines', right," Ron agreed, continuing to write quickly on the board.~~ Harry's Flat...**"'...a Marking of the Near-Man…'," Harry murmured. Harry remembered the vision in Draco's Pensieve of the young Slytherin trying to carve the Dark Mark out of his arm in the presence of Moaning Myrtle. And then the cold, stone room where Lucius Malfoy stood by as Voldemort re-marked his son in the center of his spine, Draco's screams crashing against their ears. "The Dark Mark on Draco's spine..."~~Ministry of Magic...**"'…when the Dark Lord perishes at the Hands of Love half-remembered…The Gatherer is hosted and calls in the Night…'," Ron quoted. "This one seems obvious, but I don't think so.""It kinda insinuates that the Gatherer wasn't 'hosted' until Voldemort was vanquished," Sam Little mused. "I'm still wondering what the Prophecy meant in terms of 'hosting' the Gatherer," Mackle said, crossing his legs. "Later, when it speaks of 'the Host', its emphasized runicly because it pertains directly to Maul; so it's clear that they are two different people. My question is: is it the same kind of possession?" "It's never really clear that there is a seperate entity to possess the Gatherer, or if 'the Gatherer' is that entity and it possesses some chosen mortal," Trisha Knockwood agreed. "What do we know of Cruent Mantle?" the Minister inquired."Graduated our year from Hufflepuff," Hermione said, resting her chin in her hands; and was silently grateful that Harry wasn't here to listen to this. For him, the death of Cruent Mantle must still be too near. "He worked as a Librarian in Diagon Alley. Became Harry's lover a year after the Eve War concluded...and they seperated some months later. I'd say about six months before Draco Malfoy woke up in St. Mungo's.""Cruent attempted to speak to Harry at The Mild Brew before Draco suffered the Inversion Enchantratem in Wisconsin," Ron said abruptly. "Do you remember that?"Hermion lifted her head. "That's right. That was after...after Harry found the Pensieve and spoke to the Parkinson's.""Regardless of what you think all of this might mean," Snape said with a roll of his eyes. "That young man was the Gatherer since the end of the Eve War. For three years at least. And now he is dead." Everyone was silent for a moment. Then Mackle spoke. "So you think that Cruent Mantle was possessed by the spirirt of the Gatherer or was the Gatherer?""I think it doesn't bloody matter," Snape replied with a sneer. Mackle sat back. "Perhaps your godson would think differently.""Do not presume to think you know what my godson would or would not think," Snape said heatedly. Ron pulled at his collar again. This was going no where. "Alright, alright; listen up. I think the most important thing to analyze here is what the Prophecy meant by 'Hands of Love half-remembered'."Again, the room fell silent. Then, for the first time that evening, Mary Heart spoke up, her voice soft and lilting. "I read in the file that when Mr. Potter found Mr. Malfoy's Pensieve, there was a very vivid memory therein of Narcissa's funeral. And then later, when Mr. Malfoy fought You-Know-Who, he made it clear that he was taking revenge for his mother's murder--""That's a good point, Ms. Heart," Grasse interjected softly. "However, Malfoy would not have been returned to us if his actions were spurned completely by vengence."Mary Heart smiled. "Yes, Grasse; that's true. Though I think that revenge was what was in Mr. Malfoy's head but love was what was in Mr. Malfoy's heart. Love for his mother.""Why would it be 'half-remembered'?" someone asked. Mary thought for moment but it was Snape who answered. "Draco was bred into a world of conspiring Death Eaters. 'Love' is a natural emotion for humans, Muggles and Wizards alike; however, in the circles Draco was born into, it is something that is smothered--or, rather--it is replaced by other things. Namely: Purpose, duty, and responsibility. In his heart, I believe Draco does love his mother. In his mind, though, I think he may not comprehend it fully as a feeling. Or, at least, may not have at that time. And, therefore, 'Love half-remembered'."Hermione suddenly looked uncomfortable, but said nothing. Mary nodded and smiled sweetly, her large eyes misting with the romance of it all. "So, Mr. Malfoy's love for his mother saved him like Lily Potter's love for her infant saved Harry Potter."~~Harry's Flat...**"'…The Gatherer is hosted and calls in the Night…'" Harry paused, but the only thing he wrote next to that quote was a few notes on the Song of Summoning. "'…a Sacrifice is laid on the Alter of Justice…and Purity wears the Face of Maul…'" Harry rubbed at his face, smearing white chalk along his cheek. The second vese seemed obvious; but the first? A sacrifice. One could say that Draco sacrificed his freedom to come to the Ministry of Magic and be subjected to its law. But somehow Harry thought it may have more to do with Draco virtually having to sacrifice his soul to be fully possessed by the Black Tulpa. Since that didn't happen--or, at least, hasn't happened 'yet'--the prophetic juxtposition could be the so-called 'wrench-in-the-engine'. But 'Alter of Justice'?How woud it make sense that the ridding of Draco's soul could be laid on the 'Alter of Justice'?~~Ministry of Magic...**"Personally, I think 'Justice' could be in reference to Potter," Scrimgeour said aloud. Surprised, every head turned to the Minister of Magic. "How?" Snape asked, his nostrils flaring. "Well, the Prophecy concerning Harry Potter and You-Know-Who made it pretty obvious that it was one that would defeat the other. When it was Malfoy who finally destroyed You-Know-Who, it may be justified to say that the one archnemisis of Maul would--and should--be Harry Potter.""That's completely ridiculous," Snape muttered. "But if that were the case, if Malfoy had said surrendered to the Gatherer, Harry would have had to destroy him," Ron said. Every head turned to him. Ron look suddenly embarassed. "Well, Harry asked me not to mention it if it wasn't neccessary...but Malfoy had forced him to swear an Unbreakable Vow to destroy him if he harmed anyone. I think this was when he was starting to realize this Prophecy was dangerous and that it could mean he would be dangerous also."Scrimgeour sat back in his seat. "So, Potter would have been, literally, forced to battle Malfoy had he been possesed by Maul. I wonder why Potter didn't want us to know that."Hermione again seemed uncomfortable but it was Ron who offered an answer. "Well, I think it is pretty obvious that, for whatever reason, Harry wants Malfoy to survive this.""That could definitely be said," Heroth murmured, remembering how Harry had acted that morning in Cell Block C after seeing Malfoy's condition. Murmurs of agreement sounded around the room. They had all seen Harry Potter's strange behaviour with the Malfoy Case. Most assumed it was because Draco Malfoy had once saved his life. Only a few knew that that had only embittered the Boy-Who-Lived, believing the vanquishing of Lord Voldemort had been owed to him. "Perhaps it has more to do with Potter wanting to avoid being personally responsible for the death of the man who once saved his life," Snape sneered under his breath. Ron became angry and slammed his fist on the nearest hard surface, which took a considerable amount of time to locate. "Harry Potter is no coward and I will hear no implications that suggest otherwise."Scrimgeour rubbed his double-chin. "On the contrary, Snape, Potter seems to genuinely care for the welfare of Draco Malfoy, despite his numerous blunders. He damn near committed treason in my office this morning, trying to prevent Malfoy from being sent to Azkaban. You saw. Malfoy had to talk him out of acting rashly."Snape looked away. Hermione fidgeted. "I think we should take a look at the next verse," Hermione said. ~~Harry's Flat...**"…Darkness reigns over the Land of Men…so be quiet Child…for the Black Tulpa fears only the Eighth Key."Harry said it aloud over and over again, pacing in his living room. Nothing was popping into his mind. Hours passed and still Harry could not figure out what the Eighth Key could be. If the Seven Keys were Horcruxes, then was the Eighth a Horcrux as well? That seemed impossible. Horcruxes had pieces of Voldemort's soul trapped in them. It was in destroying them that the Dark Lord was destroyed. How could something so evil kill something so evil? There was a big gaping hole in the puzzle that never seemed piece together. At some point, Slightly brought him a cup of tea and ushered him to bed. Harry spent hours on end staring at the ceiling, watching the shadows chase one another. Around three in the morning--the witching hour--his ghost-scar tingled and burned and Harry was tempted to go to the Ministry to check on Draco. But Harry knew Ron would have his ass in a sling if he did. So he watched the shadows and tried to ignore the burning on his forehead. The Eighth Key. The Eighth Key. The Eighth Key.Finally, the first rays of the sun peaked over the Eastern horizon. The second the night outside began to turn gray, Harry jumped out of his bed and began dressing. Sipping the coffee Slightly made for him, Harry stared at the chalkboard, reviewing all the notes he had scribbled on it. Suddenly, a thought hit him. The only House in Hogwarts whose relic Voldemort did not turn into a Horcrux was Gryffindor. In fact, the Sword of Godric Gryffindor had been powerful enough to destroy a Horcrux. So what if...What if...~~The Ministry of Magic...**Harry Potter all but collided into Ronald Weasley in the Auror's Division. Breathless, Harry gripped Ron's arm, green eyes somewhat wild with hope. "The Sword of Godric Gryffindor! If it was powerful and good enough to destroy Horcruxes--the other Seven Keys--what if it isn't that the Eighth Key is the weapon that would kill Maul but that Draco IS the Eighth Key and that the scar is weak to the power of the Sword of Godric Gryffindor? What if Draco IS the Eighth Key, Ron?! What if Maul fears his own Host because we already know how to destroy Horcruxes?! What if we could kill this thing with the sword?!"Ron nodded, bleary-eyed but smiling. "Or with the venom of a Basilisk. Yes, Harry, we thought so too. I thought you were going to rest."Harry looked around the room, thinking as quickly as he could. "Is he safe? They haven't--""No," Ron said, placing a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "We decided to wait for you. Harry, when Draco was under the Inversion Enchantratem, did the scar disappear?"Harry's entire demeanor fell and he looked crestfallen. "No. Ah, Merlin, no. It was our connection through the scar that brought him out of it." Harry began to shake and he sat in the nearest chair, putting his head in his hands. "Harry," Ron said gently. "That can mean that Maul is not actually connected to the Eighth Key and destroying it wouldn't effect him at all; it would just--""It would kill Draco." "Yes.""Ron," Harry said, his voice a deathly whisper. "If that gets out, I swear--""No one in that room wanted Malfoy dead," Ron said firmly. "But I think we ought to concentrate on why Maul fears the Horcrux Scar."Harry bit his lip, thinking. "We decided that we think it's because the Horcrux Scar is connected to you and that you are the Alter of Justice," Ron murmured. Harry's beryl eyes widened in disbelief. "That's ridiculous.""Snape said as much," Ron affirmed with a grin. "But here's what Scrimgeour thought..." And Ron made good time explaining the Minister's reasoning. Harry rested his chin in his hand as he listened, his mind growing quiet. He was beginning to really, and truly, hate Prophecies. "We think," Ron continued, "that if you go into Malfoy's sphere's of magic, like you did before, you could face Maul. Whether or not you beat him would be up to you, but we think that it could be done if we sent you in there."Harry shook his head. "That still doesn't explain why Maul fears the Eighth Key. Why would he fear our connection through the Horcrux Scar?"Ron drew in a deep breath. "Hermione has a theory, but she won't tell anyone but you." "Fine," Harry said, standing. "Where is she?""Muggle Affairs. Harry, wait!""What?""I think you're right about one thing, though," Ron said. "If the Sword of Godric Gryffindor could destroy Voldemort, it could definitely hurt Maul. Horcruxes are a magic that Maul himself lorded over.""Then I'll go in with the Sword.""That goblin has it."Harry paused. "Oh, right. I guess we'll have to go get it from him."Ron hated that particular goblin almost as much as he hated Severus Snape. "Right."Harry turned to go find Hermione.~~"You're sleeping with him!" Hermione accused with a hiss between her teeth. She had just pulled Harry into the privacy of the filing room of Muggle Affairs. "'Mione--""Don't you lie to me, Harry James Potter. You know I can tell."Harry sighed. How the bloody hell did she figure that out? "Hermione, it wasn't like I--""OH MY GOD!""Hermione--""MERLIN, ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?""Lower your voice--""ARE YOU COMPLETELY DAFT?!""Hermione!""Harry!""I didn't plan for it to happen, Hermione," Harry protested. "It just--""You know better than that," Hermione interrupted. "He's your client, Harry. Not to mention it's DRACO MALFOY--but that's not the point. If this got out, it would be the end of your career as an Auror. Do you realize that?""Yes, actually," Harry retorted, beginning to get angry. "I am completely aware. So would you please--""Do you realize how this could effect the case?""I've thought about that and--""You can't stop, Harry."Harry froze. "What?""Do you love him?"Flustered, Harry raised his hands. "What?!""Do you love him?""I don't...I don't know, Hermione. I just--""Well, you should think long and hard about that, Harry, because if you do, it's the one that could save Malfoy's ass."All the air in Harry's lungs seemed to dissapate. "Which is why I'll keep my mouth shut," Hermione concluded. "The darkest curse the Wizarding World knows is the Killing Curse and if the ancient magic of love can deflect it and cause someone to be brought back to life--which we've seen twice concerning that Horcrux Scar--than it certainly can protect the two of you when you face Maul." Hermione paused. "And it may be the only thing that will protect you."~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. "No tears please. It is a waste of good suffering." ~Pinhead in "Hellraiser" ~The Markaghirelle~"You should tell Ron," Hermione had said. "You should tell him."Harry laid his head in hands from where he sat behind his desk. Merlin, he was tired. He and Ron had been working out their trip to find Griphook. It would take them into Germany, where the goblin was last sighted, and they would have to travel on foot because of the Apparatal Border Closures. Well, 'on foot' was a relative term. Technically, they would commute as Muggles. They would leave tomorrow after the Markaghirelle was finished. "He's your partner, Harry. He has a right to know."Hermione's words kept repeating in his mind, like a broken record that never seemed to stop. It was almost time to go home for the day and still her words chanted in his mind. Harry stifled a yawn and groaned as a sweep of utter exhaustion rattled his bones."Do you love him?" "Do you love him?" "Do you love him?"Harry knew he cared for Draco. But love? He had loved Ginny. He would have done anything for Ginny. Until she had introduced Lenor Remuin at the Auror Graduation. Lenor Remuin would never leave her to fight darkness. Lenor Remuin would never place her in danger. Lenor Remuin would never let her go. But Harry did.And Cruent? Harry knew he had never been in love with Cruent Mantle. He had been certain, though, that Cruent had loved him. That's why Harry had left him. Don't love me, Harry had thought. I don't want you to get hurt. Don't love me. "And it may be the only thing that will protect you."Don't love me.Harry laid his head down on a pile of paperwork. It wasn't fair. And Harry certainly didn't like to think that he may have to force himself to acknowledge falling for Draco in order to get them both out of this whole thing alive. Too many people he had loved had been taken away from him. Too many. It wasn't fair. It didn't make sense. Don't love me. Even Cruent had met a terrible end for caring for Harry Potter. He couldn't believe Cruent hadn't cared. He couldn't. It was real, in its own way. He was damned. Harry closed his eyes. Don't love me. ~~"Harry."Harry opened his eyes with a start. Ron was there shaking him awake. "Harry, what on earth--did you sleep here last night?"Harry sat up, rubbing a terrible ache in his neck. Apparently. It was morning. Ron stared at him for a long time as Harry caught his bearings and stood. "Malfoy's asking for you," Ron said at some length. "The Markaghirelle is ready. Snape and 'Mione are waiting for you in Cell Block C."Harry's mind was obviously elsewhere, but he nodded and followed Ron to the Cell Block. They were all indeed waiting for him. Harry stepped into Cell Block C behind Ron, rubbing his neck. Four new Aurors stood surrounding Draco's cage and Draco himself stood calmly by his cot. He looked even more exhausted than the last time Harry had seen him. Draco nudged into Harry's mind when the young Auror wouldn't meet his gaze, but Harry pushed him back and shook his head. "Don't," Harry whispered and Draco looked at him quizzically. Hermione frowned, looking between Harry's reserved figure and Draco's questioning look. Then she took in her fiancée’s ignorant expression. Hermione sighed. Harry had obviously not told Ron...and he's probably second guessing the hell out of himself in regards to Draco. No one scares Harry Potter like Harry Potter scares himself. Too, too true.Hermione stepped forward, holding up a small purple bottle with an intricate silver stopper. "Ron, Harry," Hermione turned and nodded to Draco," Malfoy. We've arranged the dosage so that there will be no weakening of the amount in Malfoy's system; provided he takes the potion every four hours on the hour."Draco eyed the bottle, feeling suddenly repulsed by the idea of ingesting it. Hermione handed the bottle to Harry and Harry approached the cell. "Drink it all, Draco," Harry said, holding it out through the bars. Draco took the bottle, anger bursting up from somewhere inside of him as he unstopped the bottle and stared at the clear, bubbling elixir that frothed vapor out from the top; and he was visited by a brutal urge to fling it away from himself, to smash the bottle into a million glittering pieces. You don't need it. Quiet. You don't need it, Maul repeated, his voice like honey in his mind. Look how you've suppressed me on your own.I can't sleep. I'll let you sleep, Draco. Laughter echoed inside of him. I'll let you sleep forever. Be quiet.Why would you let them drug you? Even your lover wants you drugged and out of the way. No. Oh, yes. See how distant he is? Be quiet.See how he won't meet your eyes? See how he's closed his very thoughts to you?Be quiet!He despises you now. Like he always has.No."Take the Markaghirelle, Draco," Snape said from somewhere in the room. He despises you for murdering Cruent Mantle. No! He said--"Drink the potion, Malfoy."He said that to shut you up. He said it to keep you docile. We both know you are not docile.Quiet! He would have let them send me to Azkaban if--The laughter rolled and crashed like thunder. The bushy-haired one knows. I can see it in her eyes. "Drink it, Malfoy!"What?She knows. Do you think you are really worth his job? Do you think he would really let you take that from him? He is casting you away. Look at him.No."Malfoy!"Look at him!No! Draco raised the bottle to his lips and tossed his head back, draining the elixir in one draught. Then everyone jumped nearly out of their skin when Draco let out a blood-curdling scream. Harry's hand shot out and grabbed Draco's shirt collar, keeping the tormented Slytherin upright as his knees buckled and gave out beneath him. "I thought you said it wouldn't hurt him!" Harry shouted over Draco's errant screaming. "It's not hurting Malfoy!" Hermione protested, her hands tight over her ears. "It's hurting it," Snape said, coming closer to the cage as Draco writhed and veins bulged in his neck. "Draco!" Harry yelled, shaking him. "Draco! Snap out of it!"Then, quicker than the eye could follow, Draco's hands wrapped around Harry's throat, squeezing as hard as the fingers could. Harry stared, mesmerized as those long, slender digits attempted to strangle him, into a pair of bottomless black eyes that shifted and swirled with malice and hate. Around them, everyone had drawn their wands and hesitated when Harry gasped: "No! Don't!"The color drained from Draco's face, giving him a stark grey pallor, blue veins popping out everywhere on his face and neck. Maul squeezed his fingers harder, enjoying the sound of this man struggling for air. "He. Is. Mine." Three words. Then Draco gasped, his color returning and his hands coming abruptly away from Harry's throat. Those bottomless black eyes faded to Draco's cold, cold gray and Harry stumbled back, breath coming in ragged gulps. Draco pressed against the bars, gripping them with both hands. "Merlin, Harry! Fuck, I'm so sorry--are you okay?!"Harry sucked in a few ragged breaths and finally straightened, jerking his head in an informal nod. "I'm fine." Harry turned to Hermione and Snape. Snape shrugged."So, you see now why we must keep the dosage accurate to the minute," Snape said seriously. "We didn't think Maul would like being subdued." Ron shifted, watching Draco out of the corner of his eye. "Conduct regular tests on him while we're away. Make sure your estimates are correct."Hermione nodded and Draco gripped the bars tighter. "Away? Where are you going?"Ron opened his mouth to answer but Harry shook his head at him. "I don't think you should know." Harry rubbed his bruised throat gingerly. "At least until we're sure the Tulpa's completely subdued. That was way too close."Draco looked hard at Harry and tried to push back into his mind using their connection through the Horcrux Scar. Harry narrowed his eyes and pushed back so hard with his own mind that Draco was physically forced back a few steps. "What you know, he knows, Draco. Stay out of my head." The words were delivered so coldly that everyone in the room felt that they were certain the temperature had dropped a few degrees. Draco lifted his chin, refusing to look hurt and opted to look dignified and reserved instead. A wall came crashing down between them as Draco's gaze turned icy and his features quite stony. Then he looked away, turning so his back faced Harry until he, Ron, Hermione, and Snape quietly left the room. ~~"I'm sure there was better way to handle that," Hermione said the second they had emerged from the Cell Block.Harry whirled on her, his green eyes blazing. "I've had quite enough of your input, Hermione!""Hey!" Ron protested, stepping between them. "I'm sure she's only saying that it wasn't really Malfoy who tried to throttle you, mate. It was that thing.""I know what she's saying," Harry grated, glaring past Ron at Hermione. Abruptly, Harry sighed, running his hands roughly through his hair. Hermione kept her gaze level with his, lifting her chin as she watched Harry's anger melt away, leaving only a weary frustration that burned in his eyes like hot coals in a windstorm. "You overreacted," Hermione stated simply. "I overreacted," Harry conceded with a nod, leaning against a nearby wall and letting his head droop. Harry stuffed his hands in his pants pockets. "I want him out of there as soon as the tests are concluded," Harry murmured, his unruly black locks falling into his eyes and casting his features into shadow. "I don't like seeing him in there."Hermione nodded, her eyes full of understanding. Ron looked strangely between the two of them and scratched at his chin. "I've got the strangest feeling I'm missing something here."Harry's shoulders began to shake as he started to laugh silently, a quiet black humor swelling inside of him. Harry pushed off of the wall. "Come on, Ron; let's get going. I'll tell you later." Harry paused only to point back at Hermione. "I want him out of there."Satisfied knowing that Harry would inform Ron of his affair with Malfoy, Hermione only nodded again and watched them disappear down the hall. Snape coughed and Hermione jumped. She had almost forgotten he was there. ~~"You'll both be traveling as Muggles," Trisha Knockwood informed them, handing Ron and Harry their papers. "Everything's there; you're new identities, travel papers, times and dates." Trisha Knockwood from Muggle Affairs had been appointed to help the two Auror's with planning their mission to finding Griphook and retrieving the Sword of Godric Gryffindor because Hermione had been busy with the Markaghirelle. "Thank you, Trisha," Ron said, frowning in concentration as he shuffled through the papers of his new identity--a man named John Doe. Clever. Harry barely glanced at his. He would be traveling under the name James Pieratt. The corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. James had been his father's name. And for the first time since this whole thing began, Harry wondered what his parents would think of his part to play in this madness. "You're welcome," Trisha said with red-lipsticked smile. "I've put two tickets in there for your train that'll take you to the harbor. From there, you'll take the 'Marie' across the Straights. The..."Trisha--bless her heart--droned on and Harry listened with half an ear. His mind, as usual, was elsewhere; and concentrated on a certain blond-haired Slytherin who had pointedly turned his back on him only moments before. Harry no longer felt the constant presence in his mind that was inherently Draco. He had become used to it. When had that happened? And now he felt his absence like a block of ice in his gut. Harry couldn't explain why he didn't want Draco to know about his internal struggle with sorting his feelings for him. He just knew that it terrified him to think that if he looked too closely at what Harry felt for Draco, it would leave the young Auror feeling way too vulnerable for comfort. And Harry knew he didn't like feeling vulnerable. He didn't like it one bit. ~~The next day found Hermione crouched down beside Draco, fingers pressed against the Slytherin's wrist as she timed his heartbeat through the bars that caged him. She had nearly concluded her first round of tests on the Malfoy heir who bore her impersonal poking and prodding by barely acknowledging she was even there, staring above her bushy head at some fascinating speck on the far wall. After confiscating Hermione's wand, Draco's four-man guard had vacated Cell Block C to give them some semblance of privacy. Severus Snape had returned to Hogwarts, claiming he felt he could better aid his students than his godson now that the Markaghirelle was complete, leaving Hermione to perform the diagnostic on her own. When Hermione had finished checking his vitals, she wrote a few neat-handed notes in Draco's file and snapped it shut. Draco withdrew from the bars and rolled down the sleeve of his shirt, propping up one foot onto the cot he sat on. Hermione stood, gathering her equipment and Draco's file and propping them under one arm. Hermione gazed down at Draco, whose face was averted, until he had the urge to scratch the back of his neck. "Is this where you ask what my intentions are?" Draco asked in a bored voice. "Is this when you threaten me to stay away from him, to break it off with him so I'm the bad guy and he can crawl into a dark corner to nurse his wounded heart? Is this where you warn me against causing trouble for your precious Harry Potter?"Hermione frowned, her gaze morphing into a glare. "You really enjoy fucking with people, don't you Malfoy?""I see you haven't lost the knack of poking your nose into other people's business, Granger." Draco let his head rest back against the bars. "No; just one.""What the hell is that supposed to mean?""I couldn't be bothered to explain it to you, Granger." Draco sighed. "Really, what do you take me for?"Hermione balled her hands into fists. "I can't imagine what he sees in you."Draco laughed softly. "You know something, Granger? I never thought I'd see the day when we would agree on something.""Why Harry? Of all the people--""All of what people, Granger?" Draco interrupted, turning his head to look at her for the first time since she had appeared in Cell Block C. "Who else was there? I can only remember Harry being there when the Inversion Enchantratem sought to rip my magic from my body. I can only remember Harry giving me back my memories. I can only remember Harry being there when I burned my father's body or pulling me away from the window when Maul listened for the Song of Summoning. I can only remember Harry facing down a small army of Death Eaters at my defense and doing everything in his power to keep the Unbreakable Vow I forced him to swear inactive."Something softened in Hermione's gaze and Draco hated the sight of it. "I have no sodding clue what he sees--or saw--in me, Granger." Draco laughed again, this time a tad more darkly. "I'm not exactly reformed, you know.""Harry wouldn't have involved himself with you if you hadn't changed somehow--"Draco's disbelieving snort cut her short once again. "Are you kidding me? That man was starved for affection when I showed up. It wouldn't have taken much regardless.""How dare you?" Hermione spat, suddenly angry. Draco tossed his head infuriatingly. "Who do you think you're talking to? Hello! Slytherin!"Hermione took a step towards the cage. "I can't believe he would go for the selfish, spoiled slime ball brat from Hogwarts.""What do you want me to tell you, Granger? That I'm actually all good? That I'm somehow pure sunshine that wore a cloak of darkness to fool everyone? Merlin! I thought you were practical!""No, but--""Mudblood.""Godamn you, Malfoy!"Draco suddenly stood, approaching the bars so quickly that Hermione actually took a step back. "There!" Draco said, pointing at her. "You see? That's how I feel every time someone looks at me and thinks--what was it?--'selfish, spoiled slime ball brat from Hogwarts'! That's how Harry feels every time someone looks at him and whispers, 'Boy-Who-Lived', under his breath! It's not that I'm light smothered in darkness, Granger! It's not that I've changed or reformed. It's just that there's...there's..." Draco searched for the word. "More," he said finally. "Harry's got the stuff of a hero, but there's more to him than that. You know this and I did too. Just like there's more to you than being a Muggle-born witch. It's true, I'm a Pureblood snob...but Harry saw more." Draco sat back down the cot. "And I guess I needed that. I just wish I knew what the 'more' was." Harry had never actually said these things to him, but Draco had sensed it in him when the connection through the Horcrux Scar had been wide open between them. It upset him more than he could express that it wasn't now. No wonder he had lost some of his reserve with Hermione just now. Hermione took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "And your connection through the Horcrux Scar?"Draco thought of swirling, exploding energy that engulfed them every time they shagged. The corner of his mouth lifted in a private smile. "That's definitely a factor." Hermione chewed on the inside of her cheek. "Well, I just hope that whatever this 'more' of yours is...that it's worth all this hassle."Draco thought of the night he had slit his wrist in an attempt to fix the 'mistake' of him returning the night Voldemort died. "I would miss you," Harry had said. "Me too, Granger," Draco murmured, his voice so soft Hermione barely heard him. Draco wasn't entirely convinced that it was; but she didn't need to know that. A few moments of silence passed between them before Hermione spoke again. "Well, I'm concluding the analysis with a full statement declaring that the Markaghirelle is working perfectly.""How nice.""Which means," Hermione continued, doing her best to ignore his tone, "that you'll be moved to your new quarters." His interest piqued, Draco turned back around to face her. "What new quarters?"~~Draco turned in a full circle, taking in the luxurious accommodations of the Minister of Magic's own suite. A hot bath was being drawn for him in the sinfully large bathroom down the hall and Draco was anticipating the long soak more than words could describe. There was also a well-appointed bedroom with a massive, four-posted bed, a living room with lavish, gilded couches and fluffed, fresh-smelling pillows, a dining room, and a foyer--where his four-man guard restricted themselves to provided Draco remained within the suite at all times. A cage still, but a gilded, most comfortable one nonetheless. "Who can I thank for this?" Draco asked Grasse, who had been part of the entourage that escorted him here. Grasse regarded him with a look that said he should already know. "Auror Harry Potter, Mr. Malfoy. He was quite insistent that you be subjected to treatment more befitting your stature."Draco loosed a laugh of sheer delight, knowing, of course, that Grasse probably didn't mean it as a joke. Ah, well. He was what he was. And he was quite shameless. Draco concentrated, taking down the wall he had constructed to shield Harry's presence from his mind brick by brick. When he felt he was finished, Draco sent thoughts of gratitude and felt his lightning bolt scar tingle. Draco didn't feel a response, but he knew in his gut that Harry had heard him. Not quite paradise.But it would do. ~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~Underground~Sailing the Atlantic...*Blaise Zabini hated going underground. He hated it with all the Pureblood passion he could muster. He hated forcing himself to mingle and mix in with Muggles on this cursed cruise liner. He hated the groveling Squib for a ship captain that was indebted to him. He even hated the little iced shrimp and cocktail sauce a Muggle waiter was now offering him on a silver tray. Blaise's lip curled in disgust before he could force himself to be gracious. He knew a dozen filthy Muggle hands must've already pawed all over them. There were three words that separated him from the rest of this Muggle filth. Three words. Swish. And. Flick. And no one knew it better than he did. But true friends were hard to come by in Pureblood Society and Blaise Zabini had only one. Trust, of course, that his luck bid it be Draco Malfoy. The Pureblood Pearl, Slytherin Prince, obnoxious, utterly luckless, snob, Draco Malfoy. Blaise shook his head at the waiting server, dismissing the man, and leant against the railing from where he stood on the starboard deck of the cruise liner taking him swiftly across the Atlantic. Blaise closed his golden eyes and concentrated on how the sea-spray felt on his face. He couldn't remember exactly when they had morphed from shallow alliances into best friends, but...sometime between second and third year, it did. It had been the most relieving point in both of their lives when they had realized they trusted one another implicitly. No lies, no half-truths, no need to prove anything. Even most married couples in Pureblood Society didn't have that luxury. Blaise trusted Draco with his very soul and vice versa. And nothing less powerful could ever compel him to go 'Underground'. So here he was, headed west over the Atlantic to collect Maximus Cure and the Inversion Enchantratem. Blaise opened his eyes. One thing he couldn't puzzle out was why Harry Potter continued to put his ass on the line for Draco. Blaise had an entire childhood of friendship to uphold. But Harry Potter? If nothing else, he had an entire childhood of animosity to do otherwise. But as far as Blaise could tell, Potter's intentions were authentic. Ever-tormented and victimized, but authentic. Blaise peered across the ocean as the wheels turned in his mind until they creaked noisily from the lack of inspiration. Secretly, he wished Bellatrix Lestrange had never confided in him. And if it came to it, Blaise hoped that Harry Potter would be able to kill Draco and destroy the demon growing within him; because, honestly, he didn't think he could ever turn his wand against his best friend. More than that, he hoped that it would never come to that, and one day, all of this would be just a bad memory. Something to store away and gather dust. Blaise Zabini really and truly wanted Draco to survive this. He closed his eyes against the brilliance of the endless sky meeting the endless ocean, thinking maybe he was fool to hope at all. ~~"What?" Blaise demanded, leaning against the doorframe of the Captain's Quarters where that blasted Squib had summoned him. Captain Whistle blanched at the sour glare the bronze-skinned, golden-eyed, irritable Wizard regarded him with. He hated--HATED--the idea of any Wizard, let alone this particular one, being aboard his ship. Especially since so many suspected Death Eaters had been reported using Muggle aid to hop away from the island of the UK. Adam Whistle wanted no part of any of it. But he owed Blaise Zabini a boon, and one he surely couldn't ignore. He wish he could. But he couldn't. Captain Whistle sucked in a breath, steadying himself, and motioned for him to come inside. Blaise shut the door behind him with a flick of his fingers. Whistle felt the shift in the atmosphere, knowing instantly the Wizard had used magic, and felt a fresh wave of panic wash over him. Wandless magic! Since when had Zabini grown that strong? "Well?" Blaise's golden gaze sharpened as his irritation grew. Stupid, blabbering, worthless Squib. Well, maybe not completely worthless. The mutt had his usefulness. "Wedocktomorrowmorning," Whistle let out in a rushed voice."Sorry?" Blaise raised a brow. "Didn't catch that."Whistle took another breath. "We dock tomorrow."Blaise rolled his eyes. "I know that, Captain.""We leave again in three days."A muscle twitched in Blaise's jaw. "It'll take two just for me to reach Wisconsin. Isn't that what you told me?""Well, yes," Whistle said, becoming nervous. "If you travel the Greyhound out of New York."Blaise blinked."The bus," Whistle clarified. Blaise snapped his fingers, comprehension dawning. "Oh, yes. The large contraption on wheels.""Indeed," Whistle nodded. "But it would only take you a few hours if you traveled by airplane--""Out of the question," Blaise grated. "Muggles were never meant to soar the skies. And to suggest a wizard should travel with them as a passenger? You're mad."Whistle took in another deep breath. "We will leave the harbor Sunday evening at 5 pm sharp, as scheduled--""You will wait.""And will sail to Florida, as scheduled--""You will wait--""I will not!" An unseemly vein bulged in Whistle's neck and his hands trembled so badly he had set down his tea cup, but he kept his voice firm. "You asked me to take you to America, and because I was sailing for New York anyway, I consented. But these passengers have paid large sums of money for this cruise--many of whom couldn't really afford it in the first place--and I will not squander their vacations or work to lose my JOB on your account!""It is a shame I didn't think so selfishly when you begged me to keep you disloyalty to Lord Voldemort a secret in his most trying hour," Blaise murmured, his voice like honey. Whistle turned red. "You--""And when he was defeated, It would have been so easy to turn you in as one of Voldemorte's dogs to clear my own name.""Mr. Zabini--""Perhaps I shouldn't have. Perhaps my mistake could be remedied. How much DO you enjoy your life, Whistle?""Please don't--""You will wait.""I CAN'T!" Whistle wiped the beading sweat from his balding forehead. "You don't understand how it works with these Muggles. If I refused to sail, they would replace me and then how would you return to England at all?"Blaise leaned down until he was nose to nose with the trembling Captain. "That, Whistle, is the million pound question.""I...I...I...know a man with a boat...""A boat." Blaise straightened. "I'm listening.""He'll take you back.""Who?""Simon Heil.""When?""Whenever you'll need him. I'll introduce you to him when we dock. I have his number right here..." Whistle rummaged through his desk drawer and pulled out a small book with numbers and addresses scribbled inside. "That means nothing to me," Blaise stated, crossing his arms. "I'll contact him and set up the appointment. He's trustworthy. For enough money, you can trust him to do anything.""How much money?"Whistle hesitated. "A bit.""A bit." Blaise rolled his eyes. "Fine." Abruptly, Blaise snatched Captain Whistle's collar and shook him, his golden eyes blazing dangerously. "If you prove false, and this Muggle does not do as commanded, so help me Merlin, Azkaban will seem like your mother's womb after I get through with you."Whistle swallowed, knowing the Pureblood meant every word.~~Blaise stared at the slop of food on the plate someone had just handed him and gulped past his gag reflex. Perhaps it would have been better after all to never have befriended Draco Malfoy. This was cruel and unusual torture, it was. Twenty-seven hours on that blasted Greyhound already had cramps worked into his body where muscles he didn't even know existed screamed and burned at the raging injustice of pure discomfort. His stomach growled for food, but he couldn't force himself to eat anything Muggle-worthy. And, Merlin!, he was tired. And he was only half-way there. "Personally, I think it's wonderful that the owners here are proud of their faith," a woman said conversationally next to him, pointing at a crucifix hanging on the far wall with her fork. "I was raised Catholic myself and it helps to be reminded to say grace before eating. I forget too often.""Oh, yes, nothing says 'eat up!' like a bleeding Jew nailed to a piece of wood (1)," Blaise replied grumpily, pushing his plate away and plainly ignoring any further comments from the Muggle woman. Simon Heil proved to be a grave, sturdy fellow, quiet and intelligent. Blaise liked him instantly, as far as Muggles went. Even so, he secretly spiked the man's water with Veritiserum before they made their arrangements to make sure he was truthful about the whole ordeal. Blaise would take no chances at being stuck in America with a criminal stowaway. Blaise glanced at the slop Muggles called food and couldn't think of anything worse. One more day and he would arrive in Madison, Wisconsin. ~~It was raining lightly when the Greyhound stopped in Madison City. Blaise couldn't get off the bus fast enough. Once free of the stifling Muggles, Blaise began to pull out the map that would show him through maze of building and to the entrance Delphie Avenue, where it would to the Wizarding Town of Madison. Pausing, his hand halfway to his pocket, Blaise felt the prickle of his skin and followed the pressure of collective magic down block after damp block, realizing he needed no map to locate the border of Delphie Avenue. Then circling around one intense brick wall, Blaise finally pulled out the map, finding the key to unlock the entrance. Once through, Blaise sucked in a deep breath of magical air and headed straight for the nearest pub. He needed untainted food so badly he was dizzy with it. Maximus Cure could wait one more hour. ~~U.S. MLED Madison, Wisconsin. Muggle Affairs...*Salene, their sweet-faced secretary, knocked quietly on the door to Williams and Byrne's joint office. "Come on in, Sal," Williams called, closing a file and pulling his propped feet from the top of his desk. "You have a visitor," Salene informed them, poking her head in. She hesitated. "He's asking to see Maximus Cure...and he's English."Byrne straightened and Williams jumped to his feet. They exchanged a long glance as Salene shut the door behind her. "Great," Williams muttered. “Yeah.”It had been weeks since discovering that Maximus Cure had been behind the Inversion Enchantratem attack against Draco Malfoy; and after deducing Harry Potter, Death Eaters, and a suspicious character calling himself ‘The Gatherer’ being involved, the U.S. MLED had decided it prudent to close their Apparatal Borders to prevent anymore of England’s Ministry of Magic’s problems to spill over onto American soil. They had also assigned Maximus Cure to remain under Williams and Byrne’s care indefinitely at the Muggle Affairs Division in Madison, Wisconsin. Transporting him was decided risky until the so-called Gatherer was found and penalized by the Ministry of Magic. However, since the closure of their borders, the U.S. MLED had heard little to nothing on the Malfoy Case’s progression. It was decided that any news would not be forthcoming until the Ministry had completely neutralized any brewing threat. Sending over important information would be even riskier than moving Cure to their Wizarding Prison. So, in fewer words, Williams, Byrne, and the rest of the U.S. MLED had been left utterly in the dark. Williams had thought it was a ridiculous decision to shut down the Apparatal Borders. Not only did it cause unease in the other Wizarding Communities in countries around the world, but it left them uninformed, and therefore, vulnerable. Byrne understood the decision better, even if he didn’t agree with it. The nearly catastrophic panic that their nation underwent when Voldemort had risen to power so few years ago was a wound the U.S. MLED was still healing from and they were taking no chances. But still…It really was a tad ridiculous. Was the Ministry sending someone over to tell them all was well? Byrne thought it extremely unlikely. Not unannounced. They wanted something…and something they probably had no authority to give.They met with the Englishman in an unused conference room for maximum privacy. He was purebred, and what was worse, he knew it too. Williams curled his lip in distaste before offering him a seat. The man frowned and offered his hand, letting it hang in the air as he waited expectantly for the two detectives to shake his hand politely. Byrne stepped forward first and shook the man’s hand firmly, Williams following suit shortly after. “My partner, Detective Williams,” Byrne introduced. “And I’m Detective Byrne.”“Blaise Zabini,” the Englishman replied in a clipped aristocrat’s accent. “A pleasure, I’m sure.”Williams looked away as he rolled his eyes and sat down. Zabini took a seat and then Byrne followed suit. “How can we help you, Mr. Zabini?” Byrne inquired. Zabini gazed at Williams before returning his attention to Byrne. “I am sure there are certain niceties that must be observed before making a request such as I am about to; however, I am unfamiliar with them. So I’ll get right to the point.”“Please do,” Williams muttered rudely.Zabini’s gaze sharpened again on Williams, his patience already beginning to slip. “I’m here for Maximus Cure.”Byrne exchanged a long glance with Williams. “Why?”“I have learned that he is vital to keeping a dear friend of mine alive and am here to retrieve him.”Williams snorted. “You’re giving us no reason to do so.”“I’m not sure how much information I am at liberty to disclose.”“Without any dignified reason to release this criminal, Cure will stay happily in his cell,” Williams said. Blaise unmasked a withering glare. “Do you know what the Black Tulpa is, Detective Williams?”Byrne swore under his breath and Williams looked confused. “What is it, Byrne?”Byrne glanced at his partner. “The mother womb of all evil,” Byrne replied darkly. Williams chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Okay,” he said slowly.“You’ve heard of it then?” Blaise asked Byrne, interested. “After my father served in the Muggle World War II, he told my mother of an oppressive presence that hovered over the battlefield,” Byrne said quietly. “My mother was a Witch who studied Ancient Mysteries and was convinced it was Maul, the Black Tulpa; feeding on the death and despair those wars brought.”“Feeding?” Williams asked. “Yes, a Tulpa is condensed energy and Maul grew fat with everything dark and evil. It was rumored that it grew so strong, it learned how to think.”“I never knew such a thing was possible,” Williams said.“It is,” Blaise said, returning to the point, “and it is trying to possess the body of Draco Malfoy.”Byrne sucked in breath. “No…”“Yes,” Blaise said sternly. “We’ve weakened him with the Markaghirelle and his Gatherer is dead—““Dead?” Williams interrupted. “How? Who was he? Why wasn’t he put on trial?”Blaise stared at Williams for a moment before answering, a strange expression flickering across his bronze features. “Draco Malfoy apparently didn’t think he needed one. The Gatherer died by Malfoy’s own hands the night he tried to aid Maul in taking over Malfoy’s body.”Williams whistled. “Didn’t know he had it in him.”“The Gatherer was a man named Cruent Mantle. Truthfully, his identity is unimportant next to the fact that without him, Maul has to struggle to complete the Hosting of Draco Malfoy.”Byrne nodded. “So why do you need Maximus Cure?”“The Inversion Enchantratem. We’re certain it can pull Maul from Draco’s body long enough for us to fight it.”“How?” Byrne demanded. “With what?”“Respectively, Detective,” Blaise said, a flash of white teeth revealing a wily grin. “You don’t need to know that.”“The hell we don’t!” Williams retorted, rising to his feet. “If that thing gets loose—Merlin! It almost did, didn’t it? The Gatherer paid Cure to use the Inversion Enchantratem on that guy once already, Byrne. He was trying to get it out of him.”“We think it was an attempt to possess Maul himself,” Blaise agreed.“There is no way we would let you get your hands on a way to set that thing loose,” Williams said. “It’s not to set him free,” Blaise replied calmly, his golden eyes glittering. “It’s to destroy him without killing Draco Malfoy.”“You people are out of your mind,” Williams declared. “This man is not worth—““Watch your tongue, or I swear, I will hex it out,” Blaise growled dangerously. Byrne stood and placed a restraining hand on his partner’s arm. “I’m sorry, Mr. Zabini, but I’ll have to agree with my partner on this one. Your mission here was ill-advised and we have no proof that you have any jurisdiction to even be here and making these claims. And now you are threatening my partner. Releasing Maximus Cure to you is out of the question.”~~To Be Continued...**A/N: (1): That line I stole directly from Family Guy. The British, sadistic baby said it. Thought it was hilarious. Had to use it. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. “…Behold, I will smite with the rod that is mine hand upon the waters which are in the river, and they shall be turned to blood.” Exodus 7:17 ~The Plagues of Draco Malfoy~Draco sat straight up in the four-poster bed that had been allotted him mere days ago, sweat beading his forehead and the remnants of a horrible nightmare hanging around him still. Fleeting memories that were not his own whisked around his brain too quickly to comprehend and Draco shook his head violently to dispel them. It had been three days since the Markaghirelle had been judged to be working properly and the Minister’s own appointments given to him for housing and isolation within the Ministry of Magic. Three days of good food and much needed rest. Three days of feeling immensely more comfortable in his own skin. Three days of pure relief. And three nights of blissful, deep sleep. Until now.Maul was always there. Draco couldn’t hear him in his head since he began taking the Markaghirelle as a temporary antidote against him, but he could always feel him. His presence was like a dark whispering on his soul. Draco had become accustomed to it, ignoring it with all his might until he all but forgot he was there. But tonight was different. Tonight, Maul squirmed angrily under the pressure of the Markaghirelle, fighting it with all its terrible might. Draco swept the covers from him and placed his bare feet on the plush carpet covering the floor. Quickly, he donned a night robe and slipped some shoes on, turning lamp lights on as he went. Then he called for the Aurors standing guard in the foyer for the night shift. In a flash, all four of them were there in Draco’s bedroom, looking slightly sleepy, but alert nonetheless. “I need you to get Granger up here immediately,” Draco informed them, tying the sash of his robe into a hasty knot. “Something’s wrong.”“What is?” a yellow-haired Auror asked, his voice reaching a nervous pitch that made Draco frown. He must be new. “It’s three in the morning, Mr. Malfoy,” an older Auror named Feerse said. “That may take some time.”Draco felt the whisper on his soul jerk violently, and sent the four Aurors a glare that could melt steel. “So. Why. Aren’t. You. Moving?”As his guard went to send his message, Draco went into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. The Dark Mark on his spine burned as he placed the glass to his lips. Draco winced as he sipped a mouthful of water and immediately spat it out. Raising shaky fingers to his lips, he wiped at the thick, acrid liquid that dripped from the corner of his mouth.The water had turned to blood in his mouth.~~A groggy Hermione Granger entered his room a mere half hour later, wearing a look on her face that had the mixture of irritation and worry Draco was sure only she could pull off. “I really hope this is impor—Merlin! Are you hurt?” Hermione stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the few drops of blood that had dried near the corner of Draco’s mouth. The Pureblood was sitting at the kitchen table, hunched over a glass of water he held in hands that were shaking and red with blood. Draco raised his grey eyes to meet Hermione’s stare and handed her the glass of water. Hermione took it with a questioning glance. “Drink it,” Draco whispered, watching carefully. Hermione hesitated, before raising the glass and taking a tentative sip. The water felt cool on her tongue and she swallowed it easily. “I’m not following—“Draco snatched the glass back with a meaningful glower. “Watch,” he said hollowly as he took a drink of the water and spit it back into the glass. Hermione watched, horrified, as crimson blood poured from Draco’s mouth and swirled in the remaining water of the glass. “I’ve tried tea, juice, coffee,” Draco said, desperation and a hint of mourning in his voice as he wiped blood from his lips. “The bastard won’t let me drink anything without it turning to blood.”“Oh dear,” Hermione said, plopping down into the chair next to Draco’s. “That’s….quite…”“Except the Markaghirelle,” Draco murmured.“What?” “The Markaghirelle,” Draco repeated, his voice like dry leaves. “I took a dose to see if it would make it stop. It…didn’t. But the potion didn’t turn to blood.”“Oh, well, that’s good.” Hermione offered a smile and Draco glared it down. “This is not funny,” Draco muttered sourly. “No,” Hermione agreed. “But one day it might be.”“I hate you.”“Feeling’s mutual.” Hermione stood. “I’ll add nutrients to the Markaghirelle so that you won’t get dehydrated.”“That’s it?” Draco demanded, clenching his fingers into fists. “I’m afraid so,” Hermione replied, her voice turning a tad apologetic. “He may be just throwing a temper tantrum. If potions aren’t affected by this, then we’ll just have to work with that.”“You can’t just make the Markaghirelle stronger? If it’s working properly, then how can he control—““I can make it stronger, Malfoy, but it would probably kill you,” Hermione interrupted. “Maul is a Tulpa. His power is somewhat different than ours. And this one can think, so he’s probably just trying everything he can in his current state to piss you off. You get angry, he gets stronger, and the Markaghirelle isn’t as efficient.”“You’re telling me I can’t be indignant?”“Yes, Malfoy. I’m telling you that you can’t be indignant.” Hermione couldn’t hide her smile this time and Draco looked away from her with a sound of mortal disgust. “Do you have any idea how nearly impossible that is for me?” Draco mumbled. Hermione grinned. “Actually, I probably do. What would cheer you up?”“Get out.”Hermione frowned. “I’m serious, Malfoy. Getting cranky will just feed him.”“You’re irritating me. Get out.”“I want to see a smile first.”“OUT!”“Alright, alright,” Hermione said, throwing up her hands. She made good time leaving the lavish apartment and explained the situation to the Aurors posted outside. She would be back first thing in the morning to check on him. All joking aside, Snape had anticipated something like this would occur. She would have to owl him immediately for advice. ~~Hermione met Snape in the Main Foyer of the Ministry of Magic. They turned instantly into the main hall and their quick steps took them deep into the Ministry. Hermione spoke rapidly to him in low tones and Snape responded only with every jerky nod a few minutes or so. Nearing the Minister’s Suite, Mary Heart nearly crashed into them as she hurried, wide-eyed, down the hall. “Oh my goodness!” Mary squealed, clutching at Hermione’s hands. “I’m so glad I found you! You must come quickly! The Minister is so angry and the suite is such a mess—““What the—““Crap.”“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!” The Minister of Magic bellowed at Snape and Hermione as they rounded the corner. The hall floor outside the entrance to the suite was covered—and I mean COVERED—in frogs. Oh, yes. Frogs. Huge ones, small ones, large horned toads, quivering thin ones with beady eyes, all shapes, all sizes, and the sound of them all collectively wasn’t nearly as suffocating as the smell. Hermione and Snape gaped dumbly. “WELL DON’T JUST STAND THERE!” Scrimgeour shouted, and only then did they realize there was an entire squad of Aurors rushing around the hall trying to round them up, waving their wands in frantic animation. Snape and Hermione quickly withdrew their wands, aiding where they could. Soon, the hall was nearly frog-free. Then they entered the Minister’s Suite. Draco sat cross-legged on the floor near the kitchen, his arms crossed tightly against his chest, and was scowling for all he was worth. Not only was the suite—and Draco—covered in frogs…but there were locusts, flies, and all manner of insects buzzing around the room. “Merlin,” Hermione breathed, as every Wizard worth their salt began hexing away the mess. “Malfoy, what did you DO?”“I tried to make a sandwich,” Draco grated, trying to stay perfectly still as an Auror attempted to pry a toad off of Malfoy’s head. “Just be cheerful, huh? Don’t be indignant, right?”“You can’t possibly blame me—““Oh, I blame you.”~~“We’ve…deduced that Maul has only the power to instigate a plague when you try to nourish yourself.” Snape was eyeing his skulking godson warily as he handed him the new, and improved, Markaghirelle complete with three hours worth of nutrients and labeled ‘BREAKFAST’. Draco didn’t reply but merely snatched the potion, drank the dosage, and handed it back, keeping his blazing grey eyes fixed on the far wall of the living room. Two Aurors were present and Hermione stood in the kitchen, staying within earshot as she fixed herself a cup of tea, humming a cheerful tune. It took a solid two hours to finally clear every toad, fly, and locust from the Minister’s Suite. Scrimgeour had been furious and roared at anyone who would listen unabashedly in front of Draco Malfoy. Finally, he had left, muttering to himself about ruined Persian rugs. Two more Aurors were posted outside the Suite, guarding the entrance as a cleaning crew came too and from, scrubbing the rooms of the suite clean. Draco hadn’t uttered a single word in over an hour and Snape found himself trying to catch his eye every minute or so to make sure they were still grey and not black. “I regret that we hadn’t thought of this sooner, Draco,” Snape said, trying to be consoling. Draco snorted but still did not reply. Snape tried again. “Granger is right about the need for you to keep your spirits up. Stewing like this will only antagonize—““Go to hell.”“Excuse me?” Snape had never heard his godson address him so rudely. “You people disgust me,” Draco growled, rising to feet in one smooth motion and storming into the bedroom. Snape followed after him, raising a hand to halt Hermione and the Aurors when they moved to pursue as well. Snape quietly closed the door behind him and leaned against it, regarding his godson who sat at a desk by the opposing wall of the bedroom. Draco covered his face in his hands. “This is humiliating,” he said, his voice muffled by his fingers. “Azkaban can’t be worse than this.”“I don’t ever want you to say that again,” Snape retorted sternly. “Think what you want, but if that statement ever reached the Minister’s ears, you’d be under the Dementor’s Kiss so fast it would make your head spin.”Draco laughed. And it was despairing one. “Would that be so terrible?”Snape glared at the back of his godson’s silvery head. “There are dozens of people working to keep you alive, Draco. How dare you?”“I never asked it of any of you.” That was a lie. ‘So protect me, Potter!’ He had asked one. Right after he had made him swear to kill him if Maul won. Draco clutched at his hair. “I am sick unto death of this whole sordid mess. Doing the right thing has only ever gotten me into one pile of problems and then another. I’m beginning to second guess my reasoning.”Snape shrugged. His godson was preaching to the choir. “Be a martyr, Draco. Go right ahead. Be a victim. But you’re going to be it alive. All this effort will not go wasted.”Draco lifted his head and turned so he could see his godfather. “How’d you get through it, Snape? How did you make it through the war when no one believed you?”After a heavy silence, Snape answered. “The friendship of two women. Lily Evans and your mother.”Draco blinked, feeling a weird sense of vertigo, like his equilibrium had been kicked in the shins. Draco knew his mother had been close to Snape, but Harry’s mother? A piece of the ever-confusing puzzle slipped into place, but Draco couldn’t fathom what it meant. Suddenly, he felt an odd mourning for his godfather, realizing that the only two women he had cared for in his life had married other men and fostered only sons. Sons that Snape had been sworn to protect. “Are you bitter?” The words had slipped from Draco’s mouth before he could think twice about keeping them to himself. “Yes,” Snape answered. “And no.”“I don’t understand.”Snape’s lips curved into a small smile. “Neither do I, Draco.” The Potions Master paused. “I drew my lot and I’m working with what I have.”Draco nodded and felt ashamed. He was not the only one who had suffered. So many had. He had pondered this during his years in Asia and mourned for every person he knew, and many he didn’t. It amazed him how quickly he could forget his revelations from his time spent in the Tien Shen Pass. He really was brilliantly selfish. Draco sighed. Are you bitter?Yes. Draco thought of Harry. And no. Draco did understand, in his own way. ~~ A/N: Mwahahahahaha! I know it probably sounded all forebodeing with the quote I put up. But I felt that the fic needed some long overdue comic relief. So that was my attempt at crack. Erm, it ended kinda angsty, but I felt that was great place to squeeze a little Snape luv in. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. "Memories fade. They're made that way for a reason." ~Strange Days ~The Plight of Blaise Zabini~~~Martha Lane went into the kitchen to check on the brewing stew she had in the cauldron for dinner and smiled when she heard the front door open, followed by the ritualistic delighted squeals of her two daughters, Tally and Crysta, as they greeted their father at the door. As always, there was the surprised “OOF!” from her husband, Drew Williams when they flung themselves around his neck and the high-pitched giggles that followed after that. Martha made her way into the living and embraced Drew once he had detangled himself from their daughters. “Hello, dear,” Martha murmured, her gentle eyes the very vision of endearment and love. “How was work?”Drew Williams kissed her forehead but did not answer, his thoughts straying to the strange visitor he and his partner, Joe Byrne, had denied access to Maximus Cure earlier that afternoon. “What’s for dinner?”Martha’s eyes narrowed a fraction, the change in subject not lost on her. “Did something happen?”Williams shook his head, not wanting to discuss it in front of the children, and pulled her into the hall after telling their daughters to go play in their room. Sulking, they obliged, leaving their parents in privacy. “A man came to the office today,” Williams said quietly. “He wanted Cure to be released into his custody.”Martha's eyes widened a fraction. "Cure? The man who attacked Draco Malfoy all those weeks ago? Who was he?" True, most Aurors opted to keep their work separate from their home life--and with good reason too--but Martha and Drew had married under the promise that they would tell one another everything...even if it meant Martha waking in the middle of the night, fearing for the safety of her children after being informed of events from a gruesome day of work as an Auror. During these times, Martha hated that her husband did such dangerous work to maintain their lifestyle, but she had known who she was marrying and would bear the horror with her husband no matter what. Most times, it wasn't all that terrible, strengthening their trust in one another and keeping their relationship alive. Other times...well. In sickness and in health. In the good times and the bad. Martha was a strong woman, and an even stronger wife. She held her marriage vows close to her heart and bore it all with a resilient pride. Even so, Drew Williams wished he didn't have to tell her all of this. He didn't like seeing his wife distressed and knew this would do just that. But he could never lie to her, nor could keep anything from her. "A Wizard called Blaise Zabini," Drew said, taking her hand and leading her to the kitchen table. Sitting, he ran a hand through his wavy hair. "Joe and I looked up what we could of him after we denied him access to Cure. He's got quite a record himself.""A record?" Martha asked, taking a seat herself. "He's a known Death Eater," Drew murmured. "The Ministry of Magic of the United Kingdom used him as a double spy, but after the war, they never granted him clemency. Apparently, they weren't sure of his loyalty to either side. He disappeared after the defeat of You-Know-Who and I haven't heard of him re-appearing until he showed up at our office."Martha frowned, stress-lines forming at the corners of her petal-soft mouth. "Do you think he works now for the Gatherer...the one who contracted Cure?"Drew scowled. "That's just it. Zabini claims that the Gatherer is dead, that Draco Malfoy killed him when the Gatherer tried to aid a Tulpa in possessing Malfoy's body.""A...a Tulpa?" Martha wrung her hands. "What is a Tulpa doing trying to possess a human body? Aren't they condensed spirit energy? Why would they...? I don't understand.""Zabini claimed that one Tulpa, the Black Tulpa called Maul, grew so powerful on dark energy that it learned to think. He claims that this Maul granted You-Know-Who the secret to the Horcruxes years ago in exchange for a branded Host.""And that Host is Draco Malfoy?" Martha smiled a little. "That poor boy that defeated You-Know-Who? It's a little poetic, I think."Drew answered his wife's smile with one of his own before growing serious again. "Yes, well, Joe was able to confirm that a Black Tulpa is rumored to exist.""Where is Draco Malfoy now?"Drew shrugged. "I don't know. He didn't say.""You didn't ask?"Drew met his wife's eyes a little shamefully. "He was pretentious Pureblood, Martha. You know how much I hate--"Martha rolled her eyes. "When you jump to conclusions around Purebloods, you're no better than those Wizards who look down on you for being Muggle-born. Anyway; why does Zabini want Cure?""He wants him for the Inversion Enchantratem. Zabini thinks that it would be a plausible way to detach Maul from Malfoy's body long enough for them to fight the Black Tulpa and destroy it without killing the Host.""Them? So...Zabini is working for the Ministry? Surely, even if Zabini lied and the Gatherer is alive, they wouldn't want to kill Maul.""The Gatherer tried to pry Maul loose once already, Martha," Drew reminded her."Wizards are prone to selfishness, Drew," Martha replied logically. "Even Gatherers.""True, but there is no way to know for sure if Zabini is lying or not," Drew said. "He never claimed to be working for the Ministry and wouldn't give us any credentials. He could be here for any reason, and most look grim. Besides, I'll be damned if I'm going to give them a tool to let that thing loose in the world. Do you realize how dangerous that could be?""No, Drew," Martha said softly, knowing that what she was about to hear, she probably wouldn't like. "I don't.""It'd be like You-Know-Who coming back, only a hundred times worse," Drew whispered intensely. "It's rumored that the Black Tulpa holds power granted him by Ancient Magic. It is said that--along with the condensed energy of a thousand evils--Maul holds the power of the Ten Plagues, the Seven Keys, and the Nine Great Horrors. It is said that Maul is the Angel of Death. And if Zabini is not lying, he is trying to possess a great Wizard's body!" Drew shook his head. "Releasing that demon would be more catastrophic than Voldemort ever was."Martha was quiet for a long time. "That poor boy," Martha murmured. Drew's head snapped up. "What?""Malfoy," Marthat clarified. "It must be a horrible feeling, being a vessel for such great evil...and right after defeating You-Know-Who! Merlin!" Drew sighed, resting his chin in his hand. "And there's another thing. Zabini claimed to be Draco Malfoy's best friend. According to his file, he is not lying. They've been apart for many years...but it would be one good reason for him to come out of hiding. And, well, if everything he's saying is true, he would never claim that the Ministry sent him because the Ministry wouldn't want to be known for using wanted Death Eaters to do their dirty work.""During that war, no Government was above using known Death Eaters to do their dirty work," Martha murmured. "If Maul is claiming this as the End of Days, I don't see why the Ministry wouldn't do the same now. Drew, I think this Zabini will do whatever is necessary to take Cure back with him to Britain.""You think so?""I do.""Why?"Martha stood and went to stand by her husband. Taking his face in both of her hands, she smiled gently down into Drew's tired gaze. "If it were me, wouldn't you?" "Yes," Drew replied hoarsely without a hint of hesitating. "Yes, I would."Martha nodded, rubbing the pads of her thumbs over his cheek bones. "I think that boy deserves more than the Dementor's Kiss, my heart. For all his troubles, you can have a family and live in relative peace and quiet. As can every other Wizard and Witch in the world, Muggle-Born, Half-Blood, or otherwise. I think he deserves a hero's welcome and not a death sentence. And I think Blaise Zabini believes this too, Death Eater or no." "You think I should hand over Cure?" Martha hesitated, dropping her hands from his face. "I think you should do what you feel is right. Just...consider all the angles, love. England is only an ocean away, but...if there is a chance that Draco Malfoy doesn't have to die, wouldn't it be worth it to do the right thing? Then, at least, THIS family could properly say thank you to the man who saved the world from a great evil by saving him from an even greater one."Drew hung his head, his wife's compassionate, resounding words, filling him with shame. Martha turned to the kitchen stove and removed the cauldron from the heat, stirring the stew within. "Dinner's ready. Girls! Wash your hands for supper! It's ready!" Martha began setting the table but her hands stilled over the bowls she went to retrieve from cupboard when she didn't hear her daughters scrambling to bathroom. They were oddly silent. Martha exchanged a fearful glance with her husband before they both erupted into a flurry of action. "Tally!" Martha shrieked as she followed her husband up the stairs. "Crysta! Answer me!"Martha collided with her husband's back as he halted at the top of the stairway, seeing their daughters' joint bedroom door was closed, but a line of light showing beneath it. Drew opened the door, his wand drawn, and his breath hissed to his lungs at what he saw. His youngest, Crysta, sat dangling on Blaise Zabini's knee where he appeared to be reading her a fairy tale story. Tally sat near them, looking suspicious, but intrigued enough to listen in on the story. All three of them looked up when the girls' parents barged into the room. Martha gasped and clutched at Drew's arm, eyes wide with fear. Blaise closed the nursery book and set Crysta down. "Go to your mother," he instructed them and they ran into Martha's waiting arms. Martha pushed them past her and into the hall, telling them to lock themselves into their parents' room. Then she nudged her way around her husband and backhanded Blaise across the face. "Martha!" Drew barked, trying to pull her away. "How dare you break into our home and come near my girls?" Martha hissed, struggling against her husband. "Who are you?""I would have not harmed your children, my lady," Blaise murmured softly, rising to his feet and offering her a sweeping bow. "My name is Blaise Zabini. I apologize for startling you. May I speak to your husband?""You're--""Martha!" Drew growled. "See to the girls.""Drew--""See to the girls!"Martha went, casting a strange look over her shoulder at Blaise who merely bowed again. "I'm arresting you," Drew grated in a dangerous voice, pressing the tip of his wand into Blaise's neck. "You've gone too far."Blaise inclined his head. "As you wish."Drew paused. "That's what you wanted, isn't it? It would get you closer to Cure."Blaise did not answer. Drew sighed and lowered his wand, thinking of what his wife had said minutes ago. "Are you hungry?"Unable to hide his surprise, Blaise opened his mouth, but no words came out. "If you have something to say to me, I'm willing to listen." Drew paused. "I don't believe you would have harmed my girls."Blaise blinked. "Why?"Drew Williams shrugged. "I don't know. If nothing else, your file suggests it was never your style to hurt children."Blaise winced, remembering the agony of the Cruciatus Curse Voldemort had subjected him to when he had refused to massacre a group of Muggle-Born Hogwart's students during the war. "Even this Death Eater has his limits," Blaise replied with a hopeful grin. Drew nodded. "If you promise not to harm my family, you can stay for dinner. Then, we'll talk after the girls go to bed.""You're an odd man, Detective Williams," Blaise said, not quite trusting the offer. "If it were my family, you'd be dead already.""I suppose that's the difference between you and me," Drew replied. "Just don't prove me a fool for it."Blaise smiled, a flash of white teeth bright against his dark skin. "You may be a fool, Detective; but that will have nothing to do with me."~~"Coffee?""Please." Martha handed the Englishman a cup of steaming dark liquid and sat down at the table holding a mug of her own. Blaise took a sip and sighed contentedly as he swallowed the hot brew. "You're an angel," Blaise said to her. "Thank you."Martha nodded and took her husband's hand as he sat down at the table across from Blaise. "So," Drew said. "What now?""What now, indeed."Dinner had been a relatively quiet affair, save for the incessant questions Detective Williams' daughters had assailed Blaise with. The Pureblood had born it with a graciousness pretty much every aristocrat possessed, but also with a genuine fondness few Purebloods could muster. Williams' wife eyed him cautiously throughout the meal and seemed to disapprove of his presence at her dinner table, but handled herself gracefully nonetheless. Blaise admired her, though he couldn't put a finger on why. She struck him to be a woman of tempered steel, but held the gentlest, kindest demeanor he'd ever witnessed. Detective Williams was a lucky man. Soon after, the girls had been sent to bed, leaving the three of them alone at the kitchen table. Blaise was a little surprised Detective Williams didn't ask for his wife to leave them as well, but then, if he had a wife of her seeming stature, he might keep her by his side also. This was her home too, after all. Blaise gazed down at his cup of coffee. "I realize my asking for Cure seems unprecedented and irrational, Detective," Blaise began, "but I assure you, I cannot--and will not--leave this city without him.""You admitted to being a Death Eater," Drew countered. "How could I possibly trust your motives?"Blaise was quiet before answering. "I anticipated your scrutiny, Detective, and have already planned to take Cure by force. I have no way to prove the purity of my intentions.""So, you had planned to force me to arrest you to get you closer to Cure...and then what?" Blaise smiled mysteriously and looked up. "If this conversation doesn't end in my favor, telling the next step in my plan wouldn't help me very much, would it?"Drew frowned. "Then are we at an impasse?""If I should tell you, would you give me Cure?""No."Blaise sighed. "Then I suppose we are." Blaise made to rise, but a small sound from Martha made him pause."Could you tell us something true, Mr. Zabini?" Martha asked softly. "Something that might put you at risk but would prove you trustworthy?"Blaise leaned back in his chair, regarding her thoughtfully. Silence seemed to stretch for minutes before Blaise responded. "Remember that I spoke to you of a Prophecy warning about Maul?""Yes," Drew said with a nod. "Bellatrix Lestrange told me about the Prophecy before she was sent to guard a Horcrux," Blaise murmured, his golden eyes going hard and distant. "It was the last time I saw her. Harry Potter killed her when he retrieved that very Horcrux." Blaise paused. "I am no fool. I knew, as Bellatrix did, that Maul reigning over the Earth would be more than catastrophic; it would be the End of Days. And Bellatrix knew Draco Malfoy had been chosen as the Host; so I did too. During the war, I was conflicted. There were days I truly fought to keep Voldemort alive...because I knew that his reign would hold the Hosting at bay. If Voldemort died, then the Pact he made with Maul would activate. But then...Voldemort's reign was one of terror and I could no longer stand working for evil to prevent a greater one. It was driving me insane."So, I began working for the Ministry as a spy, doing what I could, where I could, to cause the downfall of Lord Voldemort. And who should defeat him? None other than the chosen Host. My dearest friend who had been missing for months, disappearing after the murder of his mother, Narcissa. Even his godfather hadn't known where he went. Then he disappeared again. I was terrified when the rumors reached me. Draco had died and then was resurrected by Ancient Magic? "I had a decision to make. I knew what was at stake. I could not find him, I had no way of protecting him against the Gatherer or--for that matter--against himself. So I decided against pleading for clemency from the Ministry of Magic as so many others did after the war. I went to Italy and began running a network of underground information, locating outlaws and Death Eaters alike. Then I sent them all the same message. 'Kill Draco Malfoy'."Drew sucked in a breath. Another piece of the puzzle slipped into place."Soon, I discovered that Draco was in a coma like state and being held in St. Mungo's, but the price on his head had Aurors crawling all over the place," Blaise continued. "I learned that Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley had become Aurors and were personally assigned to ensuring his protection. It was...almost a relief. If Maul tried to host Draco's body, surely Harry Potter would kill him himself. But then I remembered Harry Potter was ever-noble and may try to save him, if nothing else than to make himself look good. So I continued to watch and wait, seeing how things would unfold."Then everything spiraled out of control." Blaise clenched his fists. "Draco awoke from his slumber and, soon after, vanished from St. Mungo's. I couldn't understand how the flashiest Pureblood I had ever known could be so damnably elusive! Months and months passed, and still I searched for him in vain. I raised the price on his head, panicking because I could not find him. But it seemed that another force was stealing Death Eaters from my network. My resources slimming down to almost nothing, I despaired, second guessing my decision to exclude myself from the Ministry's protection. If I had begged clemency and been granted it, I may have had a network of informants within the Ministry instead. Then I could have known Potter and Weasley had sent him here, to Madison, to hide as a Muggle. I could have protected him from the Gatherer. I could have...done something! "However, I was secluded in Italy until, finally, word reached me." Blaise drew in a shaky breath. "An old friend, worried about the welfare of Draco Malfoy, contacted me. She had seen him, in the company of Harry Potter; they had come to her home! I had found him at last!"And then I learned he was already showing symptoms of the Hosting. The Gatherer was beginning the Song of Summoning. I went to the old headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, searching for Draco, knowing that if Potter was trying to hide him in England after the fiasco here, it would be there. I had never seen this place, but had heard of it. Being a spy had its usefulness. There, I met Draco's godfather, who was searching for him too. That was the night the Gatherer nearly succeeded in discarding Draco's soul and aiding Maul to his throne. That was the night the End of Days almost began. "My network of Death Eaters had been organized into an army for Maul by the Gatherer. I don't know how Potter kept Draco alive long enough for Snape and I to arrive with a squad of Aurors, but somehow, even with an Unbreakable Vow trying to force his hand into killing Draco, he did. We arrived at last and finished rounding up the Death Eaters as Draco defeated the Gatherer. Now, I had no resources to assassinate Draco without soiling my own hands. Now, Maul was weakened, denied the aid of his precious Gatherer and suppressed by the Markaghirelle. Now, I had no plan. "I watched, dumbstruck, as Harry Potter nearly committed treason to prevent Draco from being sent to Azkaban. I must confess, I was ashamed beyond all reason. Harry Potter was throwing his neck on the line, repeatedly, to keep Draco Malfoy alive, while I, Blaise Zabini, Draco's closest friend in the world, was plotting his murder. I began to think...perhaps it was possible to save Draco. And even if it wasn't...it would be the right thing to try. I had done the right thing so few times in my life, if there ever was a time to start, it was now. For the sake of my friend, who drew the worst lot of us all. "You said Draco isn't worth the chance of Maul being victorious over the Inversion Enchantratem this afternoon, Detective," Blaise murmured, his eyes beginning to focus back to where he was and meeting Drew's gaze. "But I have never seen such dignity as Draco Malfoy possessed as a group of people discussed his mortal fate in the Minister of Magic's own office right in front of him like they were reading the Daily Prophet. I thought as you do, once, and I'm his closest friend. I think we are both wrong."His words echoed into silence and Drew turned to look at his wife. "I don't know if what I've told you proves me trustworthy," Blaise murmured, looking from one to other as they communicated silently. "But it was something true."At long last, Drew nodded to his wife, who smiled faintly and took a drink of her coffee. Drew turned back to Blaise. "Alright, Mr. Zabini. I believe you. Finish your coffee; my partner's home is on the other side of town. I won't release Cure without Detective Byrne's consent...but I'm sure that if you can convince me, Byrne'll be a piece of cake."Blaise offered his irrepressible grin, white teeth flashing. "That's wonderful."Drew grunted and sipped his coffee. "NOW will you tell me how you were planning to break out Cure?" Blaise raised a brow. "It was a wait and see sort of thing."Drew gave him a quizzical look. "But then I waited and I saw. It's what I do.""And quite effectively," Martha said, with a gentle grin. Blaise laughed good-naturedly. "Sometimes, my dear lady. Sometimes." Relief should have suffused him like a flood, his laugh should have been genuine; but a shadow on his golden eyes spoke of a painful rock of guilt that Blaise never thought from which he'd be redeemed. Retrieving Cure had been his act of redemption. Why did Blaise still feel so awful?~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. “Judas said Hitler was nothing but a "big mouth" and had "no real say" in Hell.” ~What in God’s Name? An article on the life and death of Anneliese Michel"Aurora, watchful in the reddening dawn, threw wide her crimson doors and rose-filled halls; the Stars took flight, in marshaled order set by Lucifer, who left his station last." ~Metamorphoses by Ovid ~The Exorcist of Anneliese Michel~Bavaria, Germany…**“Why are we so far east?” Ron asked, adjusting the backpack on his shoulder. “Trisha said that Griphook was last sighted in Emmendingen. That’s in Baden-Württemburg, one state west of here.”Harry and Ron stood at a crossroads in rural Southern Germany looking every inch the traveling tourists. Harry’s sloppy black hair hid his eyes as he peered at a map, glancing up at the road signs every few seconds or so and then back down at the map. He had insisted they take the train to Bavaria after the Dover Calais, claiming they could pay a cabbie to take them East when the time came. Of course, none of this made any sense whatsoever to Ron. Why not go directly to Emmendingen? “Harry, I’m telling you, we need to go back and hop on that train before it leaves again.” Ron glanced back down the road they had just hiked a bit mournfully. “Train only comes once a day, Ron,” Harry muttered from behind his map. “It’s left already.”“Well, this is brilliant.” Ron re-shouldered his backpack irritably. “WHY did you make us get off the train, Harry?”Harry lowered his map and gazed blandly back at his partner. “We’re here for the Exorcist. Why else would we be in Bavaria?” Ron gaped at him. “Exorcist? Since when were we collecting a Muggle priest?”Harry rolled his eyes and peered back at his map. “One day, Ron, I hope you’ll start actually reading your mission assignments.” Harry folded his map and pointed down one road. “Klingenberg am Main is this way.”Ron fumbled with his backpack in an attempt to retrieve his mission statement as they began walking. Finally grasping the folder, Ron pulled it out and flipped it open. Truthfully, Ron hadn’t gotten past his alias in the statement, not thinking there was anything else to know. Honestly, since when did the Ministry need exorcists anyway? That was a Muggle thing. It was a way for Muggle religions to do deal with the magical phenomenon they didn’t understand. And, it was ridiculous. Ron found a red page that read ATTENTION at the top. Ron laughed. How he missed this was a mystery to even him. “They were to locate and retrieve a Muggle-Born by the name of Father Ernst Alt. Ron blinked. “He’s a Wizard?”Ahead of him, Harry nodded. “Alt was raised under heavy religious influence and burned his invitation to Durmstrang because he thought it was the work of the devil.”“An untrained Wizard working for the Catholic Church? Wow, that’s really somethin’.”Harry paused and waited for Ron to catch up. “More specifically, an untrained Wizard who worked as an exorcist.”“Worked?”“After being persecuted for the death of Anneliese Michel, Alt sort of drifted off the map,” Harry said, pointing at Ron’s file and tapping it with his finger. “It’s all there, Ron.”Ron was silent as he read, their brisk steps the only mundane sound over the chirp of nearby birds and the humming of insects. “Harry, do you think he caused the death of this Muggle?”Harry didn’t answer right away. “I think the terms of the ritual imposed by the Muggle Church were too extreme for the conditioning of the Muggle Michel.” Harry glanced at his partner, who was studiously reading the file on Alt. “The Muggles persecuted Father Alt, Father Josef Stangl, and Michel’s parents for negligence to dissuade further incidences like that one. I don’t believe it was wholly irrational of the Muggle court system…but it must have torn Alt apart to be blamed for her death.”“Says here that he really believed Michel to be possessed by demons,” Ron said, pointing. Harry shrugged. “He also believed that Durmstrang was of the devil. Faith does strange things to people.”“Maybe he’s right,” Ron joked, thinking of Viktor Krum. “So, why are getting this guy if he’s a total crapshute?”Harry frowned at Ron. “He’s not a crapshute, Ron. He’s depressed. Besides, what we want to do with Draco is a roundabout exorcism. The Ministry thought it might be prudent to have a professional on board.”Ron wrinkled his nose. “A professional who was found guilty of negligent homicide?”Harry’s green eyes took on a distant look. “Draco’s not crazy, nor is he epileptic. Michel was psychologically unstable.” Harry’s eyes darkened. “And we won’t starve him to death. There would be no reason to.”“What if this guy goes all religious on us?”Harry shrugged. “Our job is to bring him back to the Ministry with the Sword of Godric Gryffindor. After that…I don’t know.”“You don’t like the idea of him tagging along either, do you, mate?”A muscle in Harry’s jaw twitched. “No, I don’t. I don’t think a convicted negligent exorcist should be tampering with Draco’s case.”Ron laid a hand on Harry’s arm, stopping him. “We could just say we couldn’t find him, Harry.”Harry gave his partner a pained look. “But, then, I’d be lying.”“It’s not like you haven’t lied before.”“I can’t lie in this case.”“Why the hell not?”Harry opened his mouth to speak, looking a bit like an islanded fish, and seemed to freeze.Ron gave him a curious look. “What?”Harry closed his mouth and shook his head. “It’s nothing,” he muttered as he began walking again. “Harry—““Save your breath,” Harry said tightly. “It’s a long hike into town.”~~They couldn’t locate him in Klingenberg, but found him in a small church right outside of town. He was an old man, nearing seventy—if he wasn’t already—and sat in a pew a couple rows back from the alter. He wasn’t quite praying; simply staring at the crucifix that hung at the far end of the church in all its gory glory. Harry held up a hand to Ron and motioned for him to wait. Harry approached the priest quietly. One broken man recognizes another. Father Alt did not look at him when Harry stopped to stand beside him. “Father Ernst Alt?” Harry inquired softly. “Who are you?” Alt demanded, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m a Wizard,” Harry said quietly, “an Auror for the Ministry of Magic. I’m here to collect you.”Father Alt’s mouth curved slightly, the ghost of a smile. “Have your people finally come to charge me with the murder of a Muggle?”“If that were the case,” Harry murmured, sitting, uninvited, next to the priest, “you would have been arrested thirty years ago when it happened. The Ministry wants your expert opinion on a certain matter.”“I do not perform exorcisms anymore.”“We won’t ask you to perform anything, Father.” Alt looked at him then. “What do you want me for?”“Just to talk,” Harry said, spreading his hands. “Words, no more, no less.”The ghost of a smile was back. Many things can amuse broken men. “I do not talk much either,” Father Alt said in halting English. “It is enough,” Harry replied. “Hmm.” Father Alt turned back to the gaze-worthy crucifix. “He died for our sins, you know. Even yours.”“There is a man who died for all our sins again, only a few years ago,” Harry said, glancing up at the bleeding man fixed to the cross. “He, too, was resurrected. He, too, needs your help.”“Ahh,” Father Alt rubbed at his beard. “The boy who defeated the Dark One. I have heard of him.”“Will you go peacefully?”“This one is not holy,” Father Alt said, frowning into his beard. “He is to me,” Harry retorted, a little bite to his words. “Will I have to force you?”“No, young magician,” Father Alt replied, looking the Auror up and down with tired eyes. “I will go.” “Good.”Father Alt stood. “God’s love is cruel and just.”Harry regarded the priest, the words hitting a strange part of him as familiar. ‘Tell me, Harry. Is he cruel?’ “Perhaps.”“No.” Father Alt turned to face Harry as the young man stood as well. “It is.”Harry nodded when their gazes met. They had a strange sense of understanding pass between them. “Isn’t love always cruel and just?”Father Alt smiled his ghostly, tired smile. “Yes, young magician. It is. You begin to understand.”~~They made good time returning to town to find a cabbie. Father Alt insisted on keeping his face hidden under a hood, claiming that some of the townsfolk could still recognize him. Harry and Ron didn’t argue with him, glad enough that their side trip was easier than it could have been. Religious Muggles were the worst kind. It took them an hour to find someone willing to take them into Baden-Württemburg. Lucky for them, the old woman they would be traveling with said she could take them all the way to the Elz River that would lead into the town of Emmendingen. From the river, they would hike. Well and so, Trisha said Griphook would most likely be hiding in the woods of outside of Hochburg, the neighboring castle the old woman claimed to be riddled with ghosts. The Black Forest was where they would search for Griphook, the elusive Goblin. Eight hours later, the triumvirate was dropped off at the river and was forced to make camp immediately. The sun had all but set and soon it would be too dark to see. The two Aurors were careful about how they used their magic to light the campfire and set up the tents. Whatever Father Alt may have seen was nothing compared to what he would definitely see when they returned to the Ministry. They were more concerned with nearby Muggles who could be spying on the ‘tourists’ and exercised a great deal of caution on that account. Father Alt retired early and curled up in his meager tent on the outskirts of the campsite, leaving the two Aurors alone by the fire. “Quiet fellow,” Ron murmured, huddled in his Muggle jacket. “I feel bad for calling him a crapshute.”Harry smiled, gazing at the flames. His thoughts were ever on Draco, worried at why the area where his scar used to be prickled so often these days and why his spine had hurt so badly a few days prior. It had ached so terribly that Harry had even considered turning back. “Earth to Harry Potter!” Ron exclaimed, snapping his fingers in front of Harry’s face. “Hello?”“I’m sorry, Ron,” Harry murmured, turning to look at his partner. “I was thinking.”“Yeah, you do that,” Ron replied. “Freaks me out sometimes when you get all spacey.”Harry looked apologetic but couldn’t find any words to say. “This case is really wearing on you, isn’t it?”Harry nodded, not being able to trust his voice. “Maybe…maybe it wouldn’t be so awful that you and I were switched to minor Aurors on this case and gave someone else the head position,” Ron said hesitantly.“No,” Harry said flatly, looking back into the fire. Ron frowned. “It just…It seems too much for you sometimes. I mean, you’ve always been a bit…I don’t know, tortured? I know that sounds bad, but you got to admit—““Ron.”“Okay, okay, what I’m trying to say is that after those weeks alone with Malfoy, you seem more…obsessed with this case. It doesn’t seem healthy. You don’t eat, you barely sleep—““Ron—““No, I don’t want to hear it,” Ron snapped abruptly. “This case is not healthy for you. And now you’re keeping things from me.”Harry glanced quickly up at Ron. “Don’t think I forgot that you were supposed to tell me something,” Ron said glumly. “A certain something ‘Mione apparently already knows, I might add.”Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek before answering. “You’re right; I do need to tell you something. You might not like it.”Ron narrowed his eyes. “Well, out with it then.”“There’s no good way to say this—““Out with it,” Ron repeated, beginning to get grumpy. “I…” Harry hesitated. “I slept with Draco.”Ron’s jaw fell open and the silence that ensued with thick and heavy. “You, WHAT?”“I—““I heard you the first time!” Ron stood, crossing his arms and glaring into the fire. “Merlin, Harry…”“I think I’ve fallen for him.”Ron hissed through his teeth, his eyes blazing. “All those blokes is one thing…but how can you go from my SISTER to Draco Malfoy?!”“Your sister didn’t want anything to do with me—““You broke her heart!”“Did you want me to place her in the line of fire?”“That’s beside the point!”“What is your point, Ron?”“It’s disgusting!” Ron shrieked. “Malfoy?!! Are you kidding me?!!!”Disgruntled, Harry looked defensive as he gazed up at his furious partner. “It’s not disgusting.”“Anything with Malfoy is disgusting.”“He’s worth protecting, isn’t he?”“Only because he saved your life,” Ron grated, jabbing a finger into Harry’s chest. “That’s the only reason I have ever gone along with helping him out. Because he saved your life! And now you’re shagging him?! What the fuck, Harry?!”Harry scowled up into his partner’s enraged face. “He’s not so terrible as we once thought.”“Bullshit.”“It is not bullshit—““It is! Merlin, I should have seen this coming! Harry, I can’t believe—do you realize the magnitude—first I get punished for Wisconsin and now—Harry, we’re both GOING TO LOSE OUR JOBS FOR THIS!” Ron’s face was positively distorted with the ferocity of his temper.“WE won’t,” Harry retorted. “I might, but not you.”“We’re partners, Harry! We fly together, we die together, AND,” Ron exclaimed, jabbing his finger again, “we get FIRED together!”“Ron—““I cannot—““I’M SORRY!”Ron stopped his charade at Harry’s outburst. “I’m sorry, Ron. I am. I’m sorry I pulled you into my mistakes. I’m sorry I’m such a fucking burden. But, Ron, I am not sorry for having feelings for Draco. I can’t be sorry. I just…I just can’t be. Just like how you won’t apologize for how you feel about Hermione.”Ron ran his hands through his hair, trying to reign in his temper. “Hermione Granger is my fiancée, Harry. Draco Malfoy is the snobby git that bullied not only you, but myself and said fiancée for years! And, more than that, he’s our case, Harry! We’re sworn to protect this asshole! You have no business shagging him! It’s…its inappropriate!”“It is inappropriate,” Harry agreed. “But I make no apologies for how I feel about him.”Ron shook his head disparagingly. “I don’t know you,” he said, disgusted. “You are not the Harry Potter I know.”“Ron—“Ron raised a hand to silence his partner. “Don’t. I need…I need to mull this over. You’re really killing me, you know that?” Then Ron retired to his tent, leaving Harry to stare grievously into the dancing, mocking flames of the fire.~~In the morning, Harry was shaken awake by Ron. He had dozed off where he sat, staring into the campfire. Harry blinked away his sleepiness and looked questioningly at Ron. Ron shrugged, holding out his hand and helping Harry to his feet. “We fly together, we die together,” Ron said. Harry gripped Ron’s hand tighter. “Thank you, Ron.” Harry knew that Ron disapproved, but his partner would still support him. It was more than he could hope for. Nothing was lost on their priest, who looked between them with his world-weary gaze. “Love is cruel and just,” Father Alt whispered under his breath. Yes. It was. And always would be. They packed up their campsite, shouldered their backpacks, and headed into the forest. ~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~Shackled to a Death Eater~Madison, Wisconsin...*Joe Byrne wasn’t as easily convinced as Drew Williams thought he would be. He wouldn’t even allow Blaise Zabini inside his house and forced the Englishman to wait outside until they had finished discussing the new events. Joe pointed out that this Wizard was the reason Draco Malfoy had become a case for the Ministry of Magic in the first place and, by rights, they should detain him to strengthen diplomatic relations with the Ministry. Williams argued that Blaise’s confession was given in confidence to help them believe his integrity and Byrne argued further that said confession only caused him to mistrust Zabini even more. If the confession was given to them only to aid in their handing over Cure, then what solace did they have in whether or not Blaise would ever be brought to justice for his crimes? Especially after giving Cure to Blaise without the MLED’s permission would most assuredly result in their suspension from the force. Finally, after much debate, Williams had his partner’s consent to give over Cure and went outside—where a forceful breeze had kicked up--to inform Blaise. Annoyed, but hale, the windswept Pureblood nodded and followed Williams back to the Muggle Affairs Head Quarters. Williams took the Englishman down one corridor after the next, each seeming as endless as the one prior, until they arrived at the Cell Block. Williams undid the charms warding the Cell from unauthorized outsiders and entered, Blaise following closely behind. Maximus Cure, handsome and disheveled, lounged lazily on his cot, not bothering to rise and greet his visitors. “Wherefore art thou here, Auror?” Cure inquired in a dreamy voice. Zabini glanced at Williams, who rolled his eyes. “Get up, Cure, you useless lump of shit,” Williams commanded in a surly voice. Blaise recognized that tone, the Auror had used it on him only this afternoon. Blaise smiled a little to himself. “You are going to England.”That got Cure’s attention. “England, you say?” Cure said, sitting up and eyeing Blaise Zabini. “And who’s this?”“This is Blaise Za—“Blaise cut off the Auror with a jerky flick of his fingers. “Blaise, only.”Cure smiled. “How do you do, Blaise Only?”Blaise regarded the punished Wizard thoughtfully before retrieving his wand. “Guillomassus,” Blaise murmured, casting an invisible spell. Williams raised his brows at the young Death Eater. ‘Guillomassus’ was a spell only Witches and Wizards under the direct protection and enforceability of Wizarding government leaders could cast. It shackled the wrists and ankles of a person to his or herself, forbidding any attempt of escape and diluting any hope to use magic in the Caster’s presence. Cure was now connected to Blaise Zabini permanently by a maximum of ten feet in any direction until Blaise decided to lift the spell. Perhaps the young Death Eater was telling the truth after all. Cure knew what it meant and his face fell when he tried to pull his wrists back, the magical shackles burning into his skin and spiking violently around his hands and feet. “Ahh, crap.”~~"Make sure he tells you everything you need to know about the Inversion Enchantratem before you leave the city," Williams said as he handed Maximus Cure's file over to Blaise Zabini. Cure, who trailed behind them silently, moved his head to one side to hide his grin. "I would hate for you to travel all the way back to England just to have left some vital ingredient back here in Wisconsin," Williams continued. "It would be something he would find funny.""Duly noted," Blaise replied, making the file disappear with a graceful turn of his fingers. Blaise glanced over his shoulder at the olive-skinned, hazel eyed young man that was connected to him by the Guillomassus. Cure met his gaze unflinching, the mirth in his hazel eyes unmistakable. Blaise turned back to Williams, their quick steps taking them swiftly towards the edge of the magical city inside Madison, Wisconsin, where the Auror had insisted on escorting them to. Williams glanced over his shoulder at Cure as well, and then met Blaise's gaze. "I also feel I should warn you: we don't know much about Cure save from the events leading up to his expulsion from Sequoia's School for American Witchcraft and Wizardry and his confession concerning poisoning Malfoy with the Inversion Enchantratem. He's claimed he was hired by the Gatherer, but wouldn't give us a definitive answer on whether or not he was supposed to assassinate him as well. He could be very dangerous, even if he seems harmless."Blaise made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat. "Or, he could be harmless, even if he seems dangerous.""Even so," Williams said, coming to a halt in front of a brick wall and tapping random bricks with his wand. "We know for certain he's a genius...and also quite clever. Be careful.""I will, Detective," Blaise murmured as the brick wall pulled back and allowed a Muggle alley to come into view, a grateful smile gracing his lips. "I am indebted to you. Thank you."Williams shrugged. "It was nothing.""Nonsense. The MLED might suspend you.""Naw. There's no 'might'. They'll suspend me for sure." Williams offered an easy smile. "Don't worry about me. I just hope my part in this tale is over.""Likewise," Blaise replied, holding out his hand. "Tell Martha I send my undying gratitude.""If we're ever in London, I'll look you up," Drew Williams answered, shaking the former Death Eater's hand firmly. Blaise snorted. "I'm not THAT indebted to you, Detective. I do have a reputation to uphold."Williams grinned. "Sure you do."Behind them, Cure watched the exchange with a smile that was decidedly wry, but with eyes that were also thoughtful. ~~"So where is this vile?"Blaise stood in the doorway of Cure's studio apartment on Waldemere Way where Cure had claimed a vile of the nearly complete Inversion Enchantratem was hidden. Cure went over to a book shelf and selected a thick hard cover from the shelf. He opened it and retrieved a small vile from its shallow pages. Cure tossed the vile to Blaise who made the small bottle disappear with a twirl of his fingers. Cure watched Blaise's hands as they relaxed at the Death Eater's sides, realizing, suddenly, that this Wizard had the capability to use wandless magic. "One would think the MLED would have searched this place," Blaise mused as he gazed around the small, sparse apartment. "They did," Cure replied as he took off the clothes that had been given him in the Cell Block and changing into faded jeans and a casual button-down. "Then how did they miss that?" Blaise asked, pointing to the hard cover book that had a thick, hollow square cut into its pages. "Because they are stupid," Cure said, pulling a hooded sweater over his head. Blaise chuckled. "Are you ready?"Cure peered at Blaise as he finished tying the laces on his sneakers. "You seem like a different person when you smile, Blaise Only."Blaise frowned. "Let's go," he said shortly, turning into the hall and beginning the descent down the stairs. Cure had barely enough time to stand before the Guillomassus jerked on his hand and feet, burning his flesh painfully, and forcing him to follow. ~~The return trip to New York on the Greyhound was an interesting and quiet affair. Maximus Cure soon discovered that his Death Eater captor was a rabid cigarette smoker, which gave him something to ponder. Muggles make fortunes out of the tobacco industry and the Wizarding Community usually stuck to pipe weed. A Pureblood smoking a Muggle product AND seeming well-versed in Muggle means of transportation was... Odd. And a former Death Eater, no less. Very odd.Especially when everything the Muggles around them said or did seemed to disgust this Blaise Only. "Why does the Ministry send a Death Eater to acquire means to the Inversion Enchantratem?" Cure had once asked, breaking the usual silence between them on their journey to New York. "What makes you think that the Ministry sent me?" Blaise replied without looking away from the window he was gazing out of. Cure gave him an incredulous look, as if the question was the dumbest thing he had ever heard, and held up his wrists. Blaise glanced at him once before looking back out of he window. "Because I can.""What does the Ministry need it for?" "You do not need to know that."Cure stared at the former Death Eater for a moment longer before returning to his musings. ~~Blaise watched Cure through the pluming spiral of smoke his cigarette was exuding as they waited for Simon Heil at the harbor in New York City. They had arrived a few hours ahead of schedule and were forced to wait until the pre-arranged meeting time. Blaise certainly hoped Simon wouldn't be late. New York was beginning to turn chilly this time of year. Cure stood some few feet away from the Pureblood, staring out over the water and watching the sun sink into the horizon. Blaise noticed that the young criminal seemed to observe random things and gaze at it for minutes at a time with a child's fascination. Blaise had decided it would be better to maintain a certain amount of psychological distance between himself and this man, thinking it would be better than to give Cure a window to get under his skin. Blaise had a temper, and if antagonized, would cause the former Death Eater to act rashly. However, Blaise had become intrigued by Cure's aptitude for silence and the easy, casual grace with which he conducted himself. And while a flying ladybug, or a crawling ant, or a setting sun could fascinate Maximus Cure, anything Blaise did seemed to elicit a blaze of humor in Cure's hazel eyes, as if his mere presence amused him to no end. Blaise wondered if it was a contemptuous humor or if Cure knew something he didn't and Cure thought it was funny. But then, Blaise thought it might be something else. Certainly, though, Maximus Cure did not strike one as a dangerous assassin. "Have you ever killed anyone?" Blaise asked suddenly, taking a drag off of his smoke. "Other than Michael Deans?""Have you?" Cure replied, turning to look at the Pureblood with laughing, hazel eyes.Blaise didn't answer as he exhaled the smoke from his lungs. Cure turned back to gaze at the firey sun. "Do you grieve for the life you take?" Blaise asked, his voice becoming softer and less pretentious. "Every day." Cure continued to look out over the water. "Do you?"Blaise tossed his fag onto the ground and crushed it with his boot. "Yes."Cure wrapped his arms around himself. "John Smith wasn't his name, was it?""No.""What is it?"Blaise hesitated, wondering if he should say. "Draco Malfoy."Cure was quiet for a moment. "Malfoy," he said slowly, rolling the syllables around in his mouth. "Bad faith. Suits him, the poor bastard.""You have no idea."Cure did turn around then, the orange and magenta of the changing sky silhouetting Cure and casting his features into shadow. "You're right; I probably don't."Blaise met his eyes and was surprised to find no humor in the usually laughing hazel gaze. "I would not have killed him," Cure said quietly. Blaise nodded, believing him for some reason. Cure turned back to the sunset. "I had wondered what he was like in St. Mary's," Blaise said at random, lighting another cigarette. Cure laughed. It was a clear free sound. "Pranced around like he owned the place. Had everyone worked up in a knot over him."Blaise smiled. Sounded like the Draco he knew. "He hit on me, you know," Cure said, glancing over his shoulder. "I think he liked seeing people uncomfortable because of him."Blaise's grin grew wider. "He does. He's best at cornering that which is most vulnerable in a person.""Like a child who jabs at a red button reading 'DON'T TOUCH' until it no longer works," Cure mused aloud. "Indeed."Cure was silent for many minutes before he spoke again. "The Inversion Enchantratem is for Draco Malfoy, isn't it? What is inside him that the Ministry wants out? It must be terrible, to frighten Detectives Williams and Byrne into giving me into a Death Eater's care." Blaise blinked. How on Earth did he figure that out? "Cure...""Don't deny it, Blaise Only," Cure said, tiring of watching the sun set and coming over to sit by Blaise. "It was a simple matter of deducing facts from what I already knew. And being the biggest hint myself, it was fairly easy."Blaise regarded his so-called 'prisoner' and watched the young man's lips curve into a smile. The man positively shone when he smiled. As clever as he is intelligent. Williams had said as much. "You never meant to kill Michael Deans, did you?"Cure's smile vanished and his eyes hardened. "Michael was my closest friend. No one grieved him more than I did.""Then why did you continue to experiment with the Inversion Enchantratem?"Cure's gaze turned mournful. "It was Michael's obsession, to find out how to create the Inversion Enchantratem. I felt that quitting our research would have been an insult to his memory." Cure looked at Blaise. "I'm just glad I might be able to do something good with the potion before I'm locked up forever. Michael never wanted to harm anyone with it.""Then why did you accept the job to use it on Draco?" Cure looked away. "Man's gotta pay rent."Finally, Blaise caught a glimpse of the renegade Cure was rumored to be. Cure seemed rigid, his casual grace slipping, his gaze hard and mutinous, the laughing hazel being replaced by a dark green, and his fists were clenched. Blaise realized that Cure didn't like what he had become, but Wizards were never meant to live as Muggles. Maximus Cure had been blamed for the death of his best friend during a potions accident. He had been expelled, his wand broken, and forbidden to do magic. He had been exiled. And Maximus Cure was bitter for it. Blaise understood this more than most...except, perhaps, Draco himself, who would understand better than all of them. He wondered what else he had in common with Maximus Cure. But before his thoughts could take him into another dimension of musing, Simon Heil made his appearance. Quiet, steady, slightly swaying, and right on time. Cure instantly transformed back into the silent, laughing-eyed, casual graced criminal that Blaise had traveled with these past two days and he couldn't help but wonder which side of him was most true. Simon and Blaise made short work of finalizing their venture as Cure stood idly by, distractedly rubbing at the burns on his wrists. At one point, Simon glanced up at Cure and asked Blaise a question. Blaise responded immediately, seeming confident, and Simon nodded. They shook hands. The deal was complete. They would set sail in the morning. ~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~Ghosts of Hochberg~ The Black Forest was large and thick, stretching for acre upon acre, kilometer upon kilometer, and the two Aurors--their exorcist in tow--were beginning to lose hope as they searched the woods that surrounded the Hochberg Castle. Griphook the Goblin was ever elusive. Harry, especially, was becoming more and more frustrated as the days slipped by. Even if they left for England that morning, once they returned to the Ministry of Magic, Draco would have only a week and a half before the deadline the Minister allotted to them. They were running out of time. Harry had insisted that they continued their search long into the night the night prior, stopping only in the small hours of the morning to build a campfire that would warm their hands and feet before pressing on. Morning stretched into midday, and midday stretched into the cooling evening hours. Ron, who had whined under his breath about needing a break for the past three hours, finally put his foot down and sat on a large boulder, refusing to budge until they had had supper. "Ron--""Harry." Ron looked mutinous. Harry sighed. "Fine. But let's make it quick."Father Ernst Alt had been an ever silent and uncomplaining comrade during their travels, though the two Aurors often discussed sending one of them back early to escort Alt straight to the Ministry. The priest was uncomplaining, but he was elderly. This constant hiking through the rugged terrain of the Black Forest was wearing on him. They could tell. Ron handed a bowl of stew to the priest, who thanked him, and then he went back to sit by Harry. Ron offered him a bowl of stew, but Harry shook his head. For some peculiar reason, Harry had been feeling a strange sense of repulsion every time he tried to drink water or eat a morsel of food. Eve time he tried to nourish himself, no matter how hungry or thirsty he was, a voice in his head--sounding oddly like Draco--whispered "...don't...don't..." And though he was dizzy with hunger and his tongue felt like a parched thing in his mouth, Harry complied with the urging in his mind; and he felt wiser for it. "I think one of us should take him back in the morning if we can't find Griphook by then," Ron murmured to his partner, taking a spoon and eating the stew himself. "I'm beginning to agree with you," Harry conceded. "I'll stay and look for the Goblin. You take him back.""If you insist," Ron replied instantly. Hiking in the woods was never really his thing. Harry gave his partner a sour look. "Git.""Wanker."Harry grinned and glanced over at Father Alt, chewing on his lip as he did so. It felt strange to have this man in their company...but at the same time, Harry couldn't deny the queer sense of relief he felt when he noticed the man's presence at his elbow, or the comfort that accompanied the priest's shadow. It almost felt as if it was a good idea to have him along. Harry remembered the sensation that coursed through his body the first time he ever held the Sword of Godric Gryffindor. He remembered how strong he had felt and how it was almost like everything that was good and right in the world protected him as he held it. That was how he felt around Father Alt; and he wondered if perhaps--just perhaps--this priest, this failed exorcist, was a holy man after all. Harry turned back to Ron. “How are we going to get the Sword from the Goblin? Remember last time?”Ron recollected the dragon and the heat of LeStrange’s vault, and he shuddered. “Yeah, mate. I remember.”“Do you think we’ll have to steal it?”“I hope not.”~~Soon after, the trio re-packed their things and moved on, heading in the direction of the Hochberg Castle; hoping they would reach it before it became too dark. The castle itself was the one place they had yet to search. They didn't particularly want to go into the ruins at night, heeding the old woman's warnings about ghosts and strange phenomena; but if Griphook wasn't in the forest surrounding the castle, the Goblin may very well be IN the castle. It truly was a ruin. Most of the ceiling structures had crumbled off and much of it was overgrown with the greenery from the forest surrounding it. The walls were drafty and the cellars were muddy. Still, even in the dark, Hochberg Castle held a contending majesty. "Wow," Ron said, turning in a circle. "Yeah," Harry agreed. "Keep a weather eye out."They searched the ruin for the better part of two hours, finding nothing. Suddenly, Ron, who stood on an unsteady part of the battlements, let out a sharp cry. Harry and Father Alt came at a run, nearly falling to their death when a large block of stone collapsed beneath their feet, and finally reached the red-headed Auror. Harry peered into the darkness, following the direction Ron was pointing in. Soon, he spotted it. A hut. Small, sturdy, and with an unmistakable gilded door, with that unmistakable Goblin design. "Hot damn," Ron breathed. "We found him.""Let's go," Harry ordered, his pulse racing in anticipation. "And watch your step."Abruptly, Harry felt like he had been dowsed with a bucket of ice water. Gasping, he watched a uniformed ghost pull out of his chest and fly away from him. Pausing, he held out his hand to stop Ron and Father Alt. "Ron," Harry whispered. "Have you ever seen a ghost like that?"The spirit was not the usual pale blue-white. The ghost...almost looked like he was on fire. Reds and oranges licked off of his transparent skin like flames, casting an eerie glow over the triumvirate. "Harry...look, there's more."Ron was right. A dozen more spirits began to materialize. And they all looked as if they were aflame. They wore dour expressions and Harry began to feel nervous. Save for one or two, the ghosts of Hogwarts that he was used to were generally kind, never feeling it necessary to wreak out their wrath on the living. These ghosts were different. These spirits were angry. "Hell fire," Father Alt murmured behind him. "Beware, young magician."Harry gritted his teeth. "Let us pass," he commanded. "We are leaving this place. We will not come back."A spiral of flame erupted from one of the spirits and hit Harry squarely in the chest. Harry gasped, pain blossoming in his body, as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. Ron caught him as the young Auror passed out. "Fuck," Ron swore. "I warned him," Father Alt muttered in halting English, retrieving a golden cross from his robes. "Go. I will hold them.""You're sure?" Ron clarified as he hoisted Harry's arm around his neck and prepared to drag him away. The priest nodded, chanting under his breath in German and glaring across the space dividing them from the spirits. The ghosts' attention seemed to be solely on Father Alt now and Ron made good time in carefully picking his way down from the battlements. Ron carried Harry all the way to the edge of the forest before laying him down and preparing to go back for the priest. He set off at a sprint when he heard a shout and saw a blaze of white erupt over the Hochberg Castle, retrieving his wand quickly from his sleeve. Suddenly, Ron stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted a figure approaching him from the shadows covering the entrance to Hochberg. "Name yourself.""Father Ernst Alt," the figure said. "Exorcist for the Vatican. Stationed in Bavaria, Germany."Ron sighed with relief, lowering his wand. "What happened?!"The priest stuffed his cross back into his robes. "I sent them back.""To where?"Father Alt met Ron's eyes. "Hell," he said simply."Oh." Ron chewed on is lip as he led them back to where he had laid Harry down. "What were they?""Spirits of Thule Mystics." Father Alt looked incredibly sad for a moment. "When one experiments with hell's fire, it consumes...everything."The Thule Society, an underground elitist movement of aristocrats led by mystics who began financing the Nazi Party in the early 1930’s, were rumored to conduct all sorts of strange experiments. Discovering the secret to Hell’s Fire—whatever it was—and being burned up by it, didn’t seem too farfetched a thing to Ron. Ron nodded. "I see. What are we going to do with Harry?""Young magicians are resilient. He will wake." Suddenly he froze. "Did you hear that?""What?""That."Alt looked up and listened with Ron as a brush nearby rustled again. "Harry Potter," a surly voice whispered from behind the brush. "Who's there?" Ron demanded."It is I," the voice said as a small creature emerged from the shifting shadows. "Griphook.""What the devil is that?" Father Alt hissed, reaching for his cross. "Demon."Griphook glared at the exorcist. "Insolent human. I am no demon.""He's the one we've been looking for," Ron said, placing a restraining hand on Alt's arm. "He's a Goblin."Griphook peered down at Harry's sleeping form. "You have met with the ghosts of Hochberg.""Yes," Ron said. "Bring him," Griphook demanded before turning and shuffling back into the darkness. ~~In and out.There and back again. Almost...But not quite. Too much and never, ever enough.Through the haze, he saw Draco reach out and push his unruly black bangs away from his eyes, a strange, fleeting look in the Slytherin's smirking gaze. Wake up, Harry. No. I don't want to. Draco pulled away, a smile in his silver, flashing eyes. I'm running out of time. Wake up. I want to stay. Not here.Why not?Those flashing gray eyes turned hard. Because I am evermore than memory. You could never be just a memory.I will be if you do not wake. "When has he eaten last?""Two days ago; maybe three. He's been odd about when he'll eat or sleep."Almost, but not quite. He peered through the haze, wondering why it was becoming more and more difficult to see the Malfoy heir. Protect me, Potter. I will. I swore it. As you swore to kill me. Only if I run out of time. I owe you a life debt. Silver piercing eyes. How can a color so cold look so sad? Harry, you must wake. You must return. "I see. So that is why his magic was weak against the hell fire.""I think he's waking up."Don't leave. He began to panic. He could barely see him anymore. "Harry?"Harry's emerald eyes snapped open and he sat straight up with a start. Father Ernst Alt was there beside Ron. Griphook sat on a stool to his left. They were all staring hard at him. "You okay, mate?" Ron asked.Harry blinked at him. Ron was holding the Sword of Godric Gryffindor. Harry whirled to his left, gaping at the surly Goblin. "You'll let us have it?"Griphook shrugged. "Provided you'll give it back when you're through. Your partner has already sworn it."Harry turned back to Ron, who was grinning ear to ear. "How...?""I asked for it," Ron said simply. "Griphook was surprised at my respectful appeal."Harry's green eyes widened with shock. "You asked for it...politely?"Ron rolled his eyes. "Really, Harry, sometimes I think you forget who I'm engaged to."~~Rita Skeeter glanced up and grinned her red lipsticked smile as Dolores Umbridge walked into her office at the Daily Prophet's Headquarters. "Have you found anything?" Umbridge asked in her sugar-coated, malice-laced voice."Some things, but nothing to really--shall we say?--exploit."Umbridge's nostrils flared in a most unseemly way. "Something is going on with that Malfoy. I know it.""Yes, well, everything concerning his case has been very 'hush hush'," Skeeter replied. "If we can't get at least one interview from the inside..." Rita Skeeter let her voice trail off for the added effect. Umbridge sat uninvited and poured herself a cup of tea, adding a ridiculous number of sugar cubes to the steaming brew. "And if I could provide an interview with, say, and interesting dose of Veritiserum...?"Rita Skeeter laughed delightedly. "Then, my dear Dolores, we would have a paper, you and I. Who did you have in mind?""The one that was left behind."Rita smiled slowly. "How juicy..."~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~Me, Myself, and I~Hermione blinked. Looking around her, she saw that she was sitting at a table in the Ministry of Magic's Mess Hall. Hermione checked her watch, seeing it was almost three in the afternoon. Hermione frowned. She must have dosed off after eating lunch. Strange that she couldn't remember coming down to the Mess Hall in the first place, or even what she had eaten. Hermione rose to her feet and headed quickly back into the Ministry. She hated being late. Hermione was supposed to have supervised Draco's 2:30 dosage intake. She hurried through the maze of the Ministry and up to the Minister's Suite. The four-Auror guard were oddly huddled over today's edition of the Daily Prophet and Rita Skeeter's unmistakable voice was heard coming from the “Me, Myself, and I” column. Hermione paused on her way in. "Honestly, I can't believe you all would read such nonsense."Anin lifted his head and handed her the column with heavy eyes. "I think you should read it yourself, Miss Granger."Hermione took the paper and glanced at the headline. Instantly, she felt her stomach drop.It read: "Is Harry Potter Courting the Devil in Our Most Trying Hour?"Hermione pushed past Anin and into the Suite. Draco Malfoy, sitting at the kitchen table with his own copy of the Daily Prophet, raised his shocked, gray eyes to Hermione. "Fuck," they said at the same time. ~~The Sword of Godric Gryffindor slung across his back, his partner, Ron Weasley, at his side, and Father Ernst Alt trailing behind, Harry Potter made his way inside the Ministry of Magic, the long journey to reclaim the sword finally over. Whispers, louder than usual, sounded all around them. Like he usual did, Harry ignored them to the best of his ability. Beside him, Ron smiled when he spotted his fiancée hurrying towards them. "Ron, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, grabbing Ron's wrist. "It's best if you get out of sight. C'mon! Hurry!""What is going on, Hermione?" Harry asked as they followed her through a maze of hallways. Hermione didn't answer and finally stopped in front of a conference room. Quickly, she unlocked the door and ushered the three of them inside. Blaise was there, along with an olive-skinned, hazel-eyed young man Harry recognized as Michael Deans--or, rather, Maximus Cure. Anin and his partner, Mackle, were present; and so was Mary Heart, who shuffled from the room upon seeing Harry, Ron, and Father Alt to tell the Minister they had arrived. Immediately, Harry approached Cure and grabbed his shirt collar, glaring for all he was worth. "You two-faced son of a bitch," Harry grated.Cure regarded Harry with laughing eyes. "That may be true, Auror; however, at the moment, you have bigger problems.""Harry," Hermione said behind him. "You need to take a look at this."Letting Cure go, Harry turned to Hermione and took the Daily Prophet she offered him, already opened to the "Me, Myself, and I" column. The blood drained from his face as he read the header. "Is Harry Potter Courting the Devil in Our Most Trying Hour?" Rita Skeeter's magicked voice read aloud. "Me, myself, and I would like to know. Inside sources tell us that Draco Malfoy, our hero who vanquished the Dark Lord over three years ago, awoke from his coma this past winter. In a stroke of brash, some would call, selfishness, Harry Potter, the Head Auror on Draco Malfoy's case at the Ministry of Magic along with Ronald Weasley, and bitter for being unable to defeat You-Know-Who, Obliviated the Malfoy heir and sent him to a mental institution for the criminally insane in United States of America. One should ponder if this was an attempt to keep Draco Malfoy silent during Harry Potter's ever-fruitless investigation of so-called Death Eaters trying to assassinate the Wizarding Hero. "When investigating further, I found that there is an old Pureblood Prophecy claiming that Maul, a Tulpa so powerful and dangerous, its destructive nature could rival that of Lord Voldemort's, would posses a host and come into this world at the End of Days. Tom Riddle--Lord Voldemort before he became the Dark Lord--was given the task of choosing a host for Maul in exchange for the secret to immortal life. And who should You-Know-Who choose other than our savior, Draco Malfoy?"If that doesn't come as a first class shocker, then listen to this."Instead of working on a solution to this brewing threat, Harry Potter leaves an Obliviated and helpless Draco Malfoy in the hands of American Muggles and goes off to China to paw through Malfoy's last will and testament; as if there would be anything in there for him. Harry Potter only returns to aid his sworn ward when the gathering army of renegade Death Eaters, led by Harry Potter's own lover, Cruent Mantle, attacks Draco Malfoy with the Inversion Enchantratem, an illegal potion meant to rob a Wizard of his magic. "Swooping in to save the day--as he is wont to do in the most precarious, seemingly self-designed situations--Harry Potter rescues the Malfoy heir and disappears with him for two solid weeks. "Where did they go? And what, pray tell, happened while they were away? "My inside informant gave me the very information that will have you thinking twice about the integrity of our Auror's Division at the Ministry of Magic. "Our insider claims that Harry Potter took Draco Malfoy to the Order of the Phoenix's former headquarters--the exact location still remains elusive--and gave the Malfoy heir a memory draught that aided our demon-possessed savior in regaining his memories. However, the plot ever-thickens. During their stay together, our informant claims that they became lovers. "No! Say it isn't so! The two Boys-Who-Lived sleeping in the same bed?!"Then, the army of Maul attacks Draco Malfoy again by hypnotizing him away from the safety of the Order of the Phoenix’s former Headquarters. Cruent Mantle nearly succeeds in casting out Draco Malfoy's soul and bringing forth Maul into the Malfoy heir's body. However, after an epic battle between the two, Draco manages to slay Cruent Mantle and escape within the confines and safety of the Ministry of Magic. "The Markaghirelle is being used to keep the sleeping Maul at bay while the Ministry frantically searches for a way to destroy the Black Tulpa. "Meanwhile, Me, Myself, and I are left wondering whether having a besotted, pathologically attention-seeking Harry Potter remaining on Draco Malfoy's case is for the best. It seems that since day one, things have been getting worse and worse for the Malfoy heir because of Harry Potter. Did Harry Potter actually drug Draco Malfoy into giving his heart away? One has to wonder. They had never shown a measure of affection towards one another before their isolated two weeks within the Order of the Phoenix’s former Headquarters."After all things considered, it is bewildering to think that the Ministry would allow such inappropriate conflict of interest and philandering to take place when the End of Days is still so near. The Ghost of Lord Voldemort hangs like a shadow over Draco Malfoy and all Harry Potter can think about is how to get the man into bed?"It is, in short, a glorious scandal. "Can we afford for such a scandal to take place during the Wizarding World's most trying hour? "Me, Myself, and I would like to know. "This column was written by Rita Skeeter. Until next time, dearies."Harry's knuckles turned white as he gripped the Daily Prophet, an incomprehensible rage burning inside of him. The bitch could have at least gotten her facts straight. Unless...Suddenly Harry whirled around and marched out the way he had come, slamming the door behind him. His angry steps took him quickly to the Minister's Suite and he barged in, past the guard, past the foyer, and finally, into the living room. Draco stood, doing his best to look calm; but then Harry had him by both arms and was violently shoving him against the nearest wall. Draco's wandless magic charged up against Harry's, but he made no move to strike back as he stared down into Harry's furious green eyes. "You glory-seeking, goddamn wanker," Harry spat. "You sold us out to the Daily Prophet, didn't you?!""Harry, no!" Hermione shrieked from behind them. She and Ron had followed him here. "I...I think I did."Harry met Draco's angry, flashing eyes once before the Slytherin's magic spiked once and sent Harry hurling bodily across the room. As Harry slowly gathered himself, Draco walked into his bedroom. "If this is your idea of trust, Potter," Draco muttered before closing the door, "it's pathetic."Harry finally got his feet under him and stood, feeling exasperation replace the ferocity of his rage. "What on Earth do you mean, you think it was you?" Harry asked, rubbing his neck as he turned to Hermione. Hermione took in a deep breath. "Before I found out about the Daily Prophet, I found myself in the Mess Hall with about five hours of my life missing. No one knew where I had gone and I couldn't remember anything. I think they got to me, drugged me with Veritiserum, and Obliviated the whole ordeal from my memory.""If you were anyone else, Hermione, I'd say you were full of shit."Hermione shrugged. "It's all irrelative at this point, Harry. The Minister wants to see you."Harry's face fell. Oh, great.~~"You know this isn't something I can ignore, Potter," Scrimgeour said, pacing his office. It was only the two of them and Harry liked the Minister the better for it. "I do, sir.""Did you or did you not have an illicit affair with Draco Malfoy during your stay at the Phoenix’s old HQ?" Scrimgeour asked directly. Harry hesitated, clenching his fists so tightly the words 'I must not tell lies' showed white among the scars of his left hand. "I did, sir."Scrimgeour quit his pacing and sat heavily in a chair. "Merlin, Harry...what is wrong with you?" It wasn't often that the Minister of Magic called him by his first name."I've wondered as much, sir."Scrimgeour rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "There have been inquiries. Officials want a hearing."Harry stiffened. "A hearing, sir?""A hearing to judge whether or not you are fit for this case, Harry." Harry took in a deep breath. "We can avoid the embarrassment if you willfully resigned from the case."Harry hung his head. "I can't do that, Minister. I'm a part of this. I never wanted to be but I am. And now...now I...Draco...I can't quit on him now, sir. It would be wrong."Scrimgeour gazed at his young Auror as he stood before him, his gaze hard and unforgiving. "I should fire you altogether.""I understand, sir.""But I won't."Harry lifted his head. "Sir?""I disapprove of your affair, and believe me, if it weren't for the obstacles to come, the repercussions I would hand you would be severe. However..." Scrimgeour stood and faced the window behind his desk, his hands clasped neatly behind his back. "I believe your intentions are good ones, despite Skeeter's interpretations. If you can convince the jury, you will have convinced me. You may go.""With respect, Minister," Harry said, taking a step forward. "Could the hearing wait until after the Inversion Enchantratem?""No," Scrimgeour said flatly. "Father Alt needs time to diagnose Malfoy and Cure needs a few days to complete the Inversion Enchantratem. The hearing will be during this time. Afterwards...well, I suppose that is up to you. Also," Scrimgeour glanced over his shoulder at Harry, "I'd advise you to stay away from Malfoy for the time being; at least until the hearing is over."Harry closed his eyes, feeling sick. "Yes, sir," Harry whispered, hating himself and not understanding why. “Would it be possible avoid allowing Ron or Hermione to feel the heat for any of this?”We fly together, we die together.Scrimgeour shook his head. “I don’t know, son.”We get fired together.With a heavy heart, Harry Potter took his leave. ~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~Is It Worth It? ~Man was made of social earth,Child and brother from his birth,Tethered by a liquid cordOf Blood through veins of kindred poured.Next his heart the fireside bandOf mother, father sister, stand;Names from awful childhood heardThrobs of wild religion stirred; --Virtue, to love, to hate them, stirred;Till dangerous Beauty cam, at last,Till Beauty came to snatch all ties;The maid, abolishing the past,With lotus wine obliteratesDear memory’s stone carved traits,And, by herself, supplants aloneFriends year by year more inly known……It was ever the self-same tale,The first experience will not fail;Only two in the garden walked,And with Snake and Seraph talked…The Minister's Suite...*Draco Malfoy had had a lot of time to sit on his own and think these past couple of months. Most of his weeks at St. Mary's Hospital had been spent wracking his brain for his long-lost memories. Hours he had spent grasping at the frayed strings of his dreams and scribbling down anything that stood out into notebook that had been provided him Dr. Laeverton. Soon, one element of his dreams became synonymous with every seeming flashback. The black-haired, green-eyed male that was Harry Potter. He was in every dream, every hazy memory. Most, he wasn't supposed to be. Draco realized later it was because Harry had been watching his memories in his Pensieve and he, Draco, had been an invisible witness through the Horcrux Scar. When Harry Potter had rescued him from his bubble of imploding magic in Wisconsin and brought him back to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Draco had spent much of his time balancing his thoughts between why he had been granted a second chance at life and the best possible way to annoy his protector and former Hogwarts rival. The former seemed endlessly fruitless. His plan to destroy Voldemort had been precise and was executed thusly. The Dark Lord was dead and so too, then should Draco have been. And the coma that he had slept under for one thousand, two hundred and seventy-six days was something to occupy is thoughts as well. Oddly, the same number of days he was in Asia brewing the VCE Elixir. One, two, seven six. Draco still wondered if that number had any merit. Draco had had no desire to be alive. He had spent so many years preparing and resolving himself to his death. Draco thought that, perhaps, he had once remembered what he had seen after he hexed himself with the Killing Curse. A flash of white, the cold, pale smile of his mother, like an early spring dawn still shivering from the last snow of winter...a twinkling, blue eye behind half-moon spectacles...and then a pushing sensation, pushing him back into the vast expanse of whiteness. However, Draco couldn't be sure if it was his memory...or if it was his over-active imagination, a product of too many lonely hours searching the barracks of his dusty and tired mind. The latter, however, proved to be much more interesting, scattering any serious thought to the wind. Harry Potter, his very own certified Auror. Merlin. Draco felt his lips curve into a smile. Originally, Draco had pestered Harry for the mere familiarity of it. It almost felt like the good old days whenever he managed to merit a brilliant green-eyed glare from the former Gryffindor Golden Boy. But those eyes were too green and that frown was shaped by lips that are made for smiling; and, soon, Draco found himself falling headfirst into a pit of tag and chase flirtation. A dangerous game at best. A self-destructive ploy at worst. It started with the blasted butter pasta. Draco noticed that Harry had an issue with eating healthy meals, but if one was set in front of him, he usually consumed everything with a ferocious appetite. So, Draco had made them lunch and brought Harry's portion up to his study for him. True, it had been rude when Harry had gaped at him in disbelief; as if the mere notion of Draco having the ability to cook was an impossibility too profound to believe. But then he had settled in to eat it and Draco hid behind a book, finding himself mesmerized by how Harry's mouth worked around the pasta. Which led to an argument. How could it not?Then there was the day the Weasel came to visit. That was the day they exchanged blows. That was the day Draco had revealed the most intriguing truth about Purebloods. That was the day Draco kissed him. That was the day Harry kissed him back. Later, startled by his own actions, Harry Potter had threatened to transfer his case. Draco had slit the vein in his wrist to prove that they were indeed in this together and that nothing--NOTHING--could change that. Draco snorted, remembering. If anyone believed that load of bollocks, he'd personally give them the Order of Merlin. If Draco was honest with himself--which he was seldom--he would admit it was because he had surrendered to a brutal urge to rectify the mistake of him still being among the living. To this day, he wished that Harry had let him bleed. Then, there would be no Maul. Then, there would be no column in the newspaper slandering Harry Potter's name. Then, there would be no reason for anyone to fear the rumored End of Days. Draco could never pull another stunt like that again. Now, he was invested in another person. He was invested in Harry Potter. Strange, that caring for only one person in the world could stay his hand like it did. After the incident, they had become lovers. The friction between them giving way to an exhilarating spark of passion and sleepy smiles. It was as if they had snatched a few moments of heaven before a dark and terrible storm came crashing down around them. The Gatherer was behind the attack of the Inversion Enchantratem, an army of organized, renegade Death Eaters were forming, Walburga Black spoke of a dire Prophecy, countries around the world closed their Apparatal Borders, and Cruent Mantle sang the Song of Summoning. Draco sighed, putting his head in his hands from where he sat at the desk in the bedroom. Draco remembered the flesh of Cruent Mantle's cheek embedded in his fingernails and the swell of nausea that accompanied it. That terrible wave of darkness that shuddered through him, again and again. The impulse to kill, to destroy, to hate and burn and annihilate until the world was nothing but ash. Then the panic. The trembling that washed over him every time Maul receded back into his being, settling into a shadowy niche beside his soul, wracked his body. Death Eaters surrounded him. Harry shouted his name. Draco drew in a shuddering breath. True, the broom chase that ensued was an extraordinary testament to Harry Potter's flying skills...but it was something Draco would sooner forget. Draco couldn't count on two hands how many times he nearly died in those moments of dashing around street corners, dodging exploding rubble, and daring insane spirals that even Viktor Krum would think twice about. But the sudden ending of it all from neither being the recipient of the Killing Curse nor slitting his own veins to slowly bleed to death could compare with how his heart painfully clenched or the agony in the pit of his stomach as he watched Harry topple from his broom and plummet headfirst to the ground. Another thing he would like to forget. Draco was beginning to truly hate how he was endangering this Auror by just being alive. And then the realization that Cruent Mantle, Maul's handsome Gatherer, had crept into Harry's bed to get closer to him had enraged him so much, he could barely think. The feelings that swamped him as he slowly tortured the man that would have cast out his soul like a used plaything and replace it with the Tulpa that was Maul went beyond cruelty, it went beyond anger. It was that slow-burning hate that he felt as he brewed the VCE Elixir and thought of Voldemort, it was that wrathful vengeance that had poisoned his core when the Dark Lord had murdered his mother and then defiled her funeral. Draco shuddered again, wondering if he was really worth saving. But then there were those few, precious moments of heaven at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Beyond the electricity of their cat-and-mouse game, beyond the magic of their lovemaking, their was the warmth and rightness of Harry's embrace, the startling revelation of Harry still lying next to him in the morning, and the smell of slightly burned eggs for breakfast. Who was he kidding? They couldn't possibly make a lifetime of those stolen moments of bliss. Their small affair alone had spread unrest and panic throughout the Wizarding World due to an impromptu, scandalous column in the Daily Prophet. Not to mention the hearing that was scheduled on the morrow to decide whether or not Harry should even remain on the case. But...But if it could...It just might be worth fighting for. It just might be worth it. Harry had gone off with the Weasel some place and had just returned yesterday. How long had it been? The days had seemed never-ending. Weeks. Maybe two; two and a half, perhaps. After frogs and flies and blood, the dull, boring aftertaste of the Markaghirelle, the few books this Suite contained having been read over and over again, Draco was quite restless. But then the column was written and the day of Harry's arrival spoiled. It hurt, a little, that the first person Harry blamed for the horrible column was him. But then, really, Draco might have possibly thought the same if their roles had been swapped. Draco thought that he was probably in a sour mood mostly because their reunion hadn't gone...quite...as he had hoped. And Draco didn't think he would be able to see Harry until the hearing...if at all. A knock sounded on the door down the hall. The front door opened, Draco could hear whispering, and then the door was closed. Draco rose to go and greet his visitor, hoping it wasn't Granger. Draco hoped he wouldn't have to see her face for a very long time. Forced or no, her confessions to Rita Skeeter had him so angry he was beside himself. Glaring darkly, Draco went into the hall and froze. Harry took a timid step forward, reaching out his hand before it fell limply by his side. Draco frowned. "You're not supposed to be here."Harry shifted his shoulders minutely. Draco supposed it was Harry Potter's version of a shrug. "Ron and I have hand picked the Aurors on your case from day one," Harry murmured, his expression unreadable. "While many of them often disapprove of our decisions, they are all fiercely loyal. It helps to be of the few surviving members of the Order of the Phoenix."Draco gazed back at him, his cold, gray eyes unimpressed. Harry looked away, his wild hair shading the brilliance of his green eyes. "I wanted to see you." Draco was silent for a moment before stepping to one side. "Come in."They went into the living room and reclined onto comfortable chairs. It was some time before Draco cleared his throat. "How's...everything on the outside?"Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Widespread panic. People are stupid."Draco thought of the burning hate that Maul positively breathed. "Perhaps they are smarter than you think."Harry lifted his eyes to Draco and immediately looked away. "The Minister has publicly diluted any truth concerning Maul. He doesn't think it’s a good idea that the public should know how bad it could really be.""Some will not believe him.""True."Silence again. Too much and not enough. Almost, but not quite. "Where did you go?" The question was barely a request for an answer. It was a demand for the truth. "Germany. We were sent there to retrieve the Sword of Godric Gryffindor and collect an exorcist.""The Sword," Draco mused. "I had thought as much. The exorcist was unexpected, though.""The Ministry wants his expert opinion.""The expert opinion of a Muggle?" Harry could hear the sneer in Draco's voice."This one is an untrained Wizard. He'll be in here soon to diagnose you."Draco laughed. It began as a soft noise but ended as a hard-hearted chuckle. "Brilliant."Harry looked up again. "Hermione tells me Maul won't let you eat or drink."Draco peered at Harry. "Have you been eating?""I had a sandwich today." Harry frowned. "Nothing happened. I felt a bit sick, but 'Mione had insisted that no plague could effect me.""I didn't think it would.""Then why did you urge me not to eat while I was away?" Harry asked."I didn't," Draco said with a frown of his own. "It must have been my own psychological repulsion. You should have seen it."Harry smiled a little. "I heard it was quite the scene.""It was humiliating," Draco clarified shortly.Harry sighed, inspecting his hands. "Listen, Draco...I think I blamed you for the column because, underneath it all, I feel like you might possibly resent being this...this hero...and not getting any of your due for it."Draco snorted. "Personally, I've never had much time for heroes."Harry blinked. Dumbledore had once said that. "So, you don't resent...you don't resent being holed up here?"Draco smiled his cold smile. "Of course I do, Potter. I just don't want Hero Worship spoiling my Slytherin reputation."Harry startled himself with a laugh. "I see.""Though, of course, being respected wouldn’t be entirely unwelcome," Draco said softly, his gray eyes averted, thinking of what Voldemort had once said to him. Run away, Draco. It is, after all, what you are best at.Harry nodded. Strange that this thing was something else they had in common. “How did you know about the Sword?” Harry asked, changing the subject again. “I spent three years brewing the Verve Channel Electron Elixir, Harry,” Draco retorted darkly. “Give me some goddamn credit.”Harry winced. “You’re still sore because I didn’t tell you where I was going.” It wasn’t a question and they both knew it. Draco stood, feeling restless again. “I understand your reasoning,” Draco muttered, facing away from him. “Do you? ‘Cause I don’t.”“What you know, he knows,” Draco quoted. “Stay out of my head.”“I’m sorry.”“Don’t,” Draco spat, turning back to him. “Don’t start apologizing. I can deal with a lot of this, but I can’t deal with you and your depressing, self-pitying bouts of regret.”Harry’s black brows raised a fraction. “That’s not really fair, Malfoy.”Draco’s silver eyes flashed angrily. “Don’t preach to me about what is fair, Harry Potter.”Harry rose to his feet, his patience beginning to slip. “I didn’t ask for this.”“You chose.”Harry jabbed his forefinger at Draco incredulously. “YOU sucker-punched me into kissing you! Where was choice—““Oh, don’t start, Potter,” Draco interrupted. “You chose to head my case when the warrant for my assassination surfaced, you chose to destroy the Transfer Case scroll, and you CHOSE to fuck me!”“Are we seriously arguing about this?” Harry demanded.Draco clenched and unclenched his fingers. “Is it worth it?”“What? Arguing? Hell no.”“No, Harry,” Draco corrected, his pointed face shuttered. “Placing your friends in danger, losing your job, embarrassing yourself tomorrow at the hearing…is it worth it? Are we worth it?”Do you love him? Do you love him? Do you love him?“No.” Harry drew in a shaky breath as Draco’s gray eyes looked away; hiding the pain that his silvery gaze betrayed him to. “But you are.”Draco looked back. “What?”“Our affair…the scandal…” Harry shrugged. “No, it’s not worth putting my friends in danger, or embarrassing myself, or losing my job. But you are. You are worth it; and I feel like a traitor for it.”Draco’s shielded resolve slipped a little and he looked suddenly vulnerable. “Why?” Draco asked, his voice cracking. Harry reached out and traced the curve of Draco’s ear before cupping his cheek, feeling the Slytherin shiver beneath his touch. “Because you saved my life. Because you proved us all wrong and never asked for anything. Because you’ve shown a semblance of dignity these past months that would put the entirety of Pureblood Society to shame. Because you’re fighting this thing when it would just be easier to succumb to it and that is a courage few possess. Because…because…”Do you love him? Do you love him? Do you love him?“Because you saw through my pain and gave me something special,” Harry finished, pressing his forehead against Draco’s, the electricity of their connection spiking around them in all its glorious brilliance. “What?” Draco whispered, closing his eyes. “What did I give you?” “You.”Draco made a sound in the back of his throat that was somewhere between a sob and growl before pressing his lips fiercely against Harry’s. This kiss was desperate as they fought to plunder the other’s mouth, drowning in each other as if it would be the last thing they ever did. They almost didn’t hear the knock on the door. “Harry!” an Auror whispered. “Someone’s coming!”“I have to go,” Harry said softly, every fiber of his being screaming denial as he pulled away. “I’ll make this right tomorrow. A scandal we can deal with, not being there to battle Maul isn’t.”Draco nodded, understanding what was at stake and his heart burning for it. “Just don’t get yourself fired, Potter.”Harry grinned. “I’ll see what I can do.”Because you saw through my pain and gave me something special.What did I give you?You. …For this fortune wanted rootIn the core of God’s abysm, --Was a weed of self and schism;And ever the Daemonic LoveIs the ancestor of warsAnd the parent of remorse. ~~~ Excerpts from the poem The Daemonic Love by Emerson ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. ~Of Ploys and Holy Water~"But God said.'I will have a purer gift;There is smoke in the flame;New flowerets bring, new prayers uplift,And love without a name.Fond children, ye desireTo please each other well;Another round, a higher,Ye shall climb on the heavenly stair,And selfish preference forbear;And in right deserving,And without swervingEach from your proper state,Weave roses for your mate...'" A Celestial Love, EmersonLater that afternoon...**After Harry's visit, Snape had come to chaperone Draco's lunch dosage, and Harry, narrowly escaping undetected, disappeared within the bowels of the Ministry; most likely to make himself scarce until the following day. Snape hadn't bothered asking Draco about the column, fearing that there would be some truth to the scandal, and had let it be for the time being. Scowling as usual, Snape watched carefully as Draco drank the Markaghirelle, nodding to himself when the platinum blonde handed back the empty vile. Then, Snape handed Draco a small envelope. "What's this?" Draco inquired, taking the envelope and inspecting it. "Potter asked me to give this to you this morning. He asked me not to open it."Draco looked up at his godfather, plainly expecting him to leave. "I said I'd give it to you," Snape said shortly, "provided I would bare witness to what it was upon arrival."Draco rolled his eyes. "Fine." Draco opened the envelope and pulled out a scrap of paper folded in two, something small and glittering escaping from the parchment and falling onto the floor. Draco stooped to retrieve it, discovering that it was a silver chain with a small, Chinese silver dragon pendant hanging from it. His fair, white brows shot skywards in surprise as he unfolded the scrap of paper. Scribbled on the parchment in Harry's scrawling hand read: "I know its two months late,But I didn't want you to think I forgot.Happy Be-lated Birthday.~H"Chicken shit, Draco thought, understanding that through all Harry's bravado, it still must have terrified the young Auror senseless to give the Slytherin Pureblood a birthday present himself.A soft smile ghosted Draco's pale mouth as he refolded the scrap of paper and slid the chain over his neck; and said smile vanished immediately when he turned to face his scowling godfather. "It's only a necklace. You may go."Snape stopped himself from rolling his eyes and left the Suite, muttering to himself indiscernibly under his breath. After his godfather departed, Draco resumed his seat behind the desk in his bedroom, resolving himself into finding a solution that would aid Harry on the morrow and fingering the pendant at his throat. Without help, Harry's chances at the hearing looked grim. True, the young Auror had made a few bad decisions, but the one thing that could merit his suspension was the affair. If asked directly, Harry would have to admit to it. All witnesses were instructed to take a dosage of Veritiserum to make sure their claims were honest and direct. Harry would have to prove his place in this case as a necessity. It was, of course; but Harry had to prove it. Draco didn't think it would be too difficult. However, Draco suspected that they would fire back at him with his inability to bring the source of the warrant to justice, which was his first, and primary, objective before the Prophecy exploded in their faces. Draco smirked, a sudden thought beginning to formulate in his mind as he continued to finger the pendant. The thought then formulated into a plan. Draco rose and sauntered into the foyer, commanding one of his guard to go and retrieve Blaise Zabini. ~~"Anin tells me you caused quite a fuss when Michael was being interrogated."It took Blaise a full minute to decipher that Draco Malfoy had meant Maximus Cure. The pale Slytherin, who stood facing a charmed window and had his back to Blaise when the golden-eyed Wizard had entered the Suite, had first met Maximus Cure when he was using the name Michael Deans.True, Blaise had had enough when the interrogation of Maximus Cure had turned physical, frustrated Aurors at their wits end with this entire case and the wily Cure plucking at their nerves. The possibility of Harry Potter being removed indefinitely from Malfoy's case had everyone high-strung. Many believed that if the Ministry removed the rock and foundation of the Malfoy Case, everything would go to shite in a heartbeat. It still bewildered Blaise how much utter and immoveable faith so many had in Harry Potter, despite his precarious and numerous blunders. In any case, suffice it to say that when Blaise heard Cure's body hit the ground from outside the interrogation room, followed by an angry shout and a collection of thuds that were unmistakably kicks in the gut, Blaise had burst in the room and bodily thrown off both interrogators. If Ronald Weasley hadn't intervened, pushing himself between the Aurors and Blaise, jerking the front of his shirt down to reveal the Order of the Phoenix tattoo etched into his pale, freckled chest as a blatant warning to the two Aurors, Blaise would probably have done something he'd have regretted. "They were being a bit rough," Blaise replied, being deliberately ambiguous. Draco continued to gaze out of the charmed window, watching the simulation of a vast and deep valley, shadows darkening with the late evening sun. "Frankly, I'm a little surprised that you would give a damn."Behind him, Blaise smiled, though Draco couldn't see it. "No, you're not," Blaise admonished softly. "Nothing anyone does ever surprises you."Draco watched a pair of blue birds flitter past the window. "Hm." The birds disappeared into the deep, deep valley. "Some things do. The shock never lingers, though."Blaise felt something squirm in his gut. "You've always been too clever for your own good."The myriad of greens of the valley were all colors Draco sometimes saw in Harry's eyes. "Michael is a good man. I wish I had known him better." The pale Slytherin's shoulders shifted and Blaise recognized the silent chuckle. "You should have him make you dinner one day. Call him a Betty. That should do the trick."Blaise frowned. "What's this all about, Draco?"Draco's gray eyes flashed silver as he reached up to finger the pendant at his throat. "I'm calling in a boon, Blaise."Blaise's golden eyes burned dangerously as his eyes narrowed. "What boon?""I know what you've done, Blaise," Draco murmured, still facing the window. "You were so quick to point out that few things escape me. You really think I didn't know?""I can explain--""I don't need you to.""But I think you should know why--""I don't want to know why, Blaise. That does not interest me. I want to know what you'll do for me now."Blaise took in a deep breath, held it, steadied himself, and then let it out slowly. Redemption. "What do you need?"So deep. So green. So vast. Draco fingered the pendant. "Two things. First, I want you to find out who forced Hermione Granger into confessing to the Daily Prophet. I've a few hunches. I don't care how you find out, just do it before the hearing tomorrow."Blaise raise a dark brow. "And the second?"Draco finally turned away from the window and squarely faced Blaise Zabini. And Blaise flinched as he watched the tell-tale cruel smile slowly curve Draco Malfoy's lips. ~~That night, Father Ernst Alt came to visit Draco Malfoy. Draco hadn't bothered rising from his seat at the kitchen table, his mind working frantically with the ploys he had set in motion earlier that day. Father Alt took a seat across from him and waited to be acknowledged by the pale young man. Seconds stretched into minutes and minutes stretched into a full half hour. Finally, Draco glanced up, his eyes sharp and questioning. "So what's your diagnostic, priest?"Father Alt leaned back in his chair. "That you are quite rude."Draco smirked. "That goes without saying. Now, about your professional opinion...?"The chair screeched as Father Alt pushed it back and stood, reaching into the folds of his black habit. Then, before Draco could blink, the priest unstopped a small vile and splashed holy water into Draco's face. "Maul," Alt murmured, staring deep into Draco's piercing eyes. The cold gray flashed to unfathomable black before returning to the slate color of Draco's eyes. Draco blinked and began to tremble fiercely, jerking away from the priest and standing to his feet with a shout. "Why the bloody hell did you do that?!" Draco demanded as he attempted to reign in his shivering limbs. Father Alt moved past him and into the living room, taking a seat on the plush sofa and pulling a small black book from his habit. Draco wiped his sleeve over his face before following the priest into the living room. Glowering, he stood over the priest and watched him open the small book to a certain page with an ink drawing of a pale woman sitting astride a dragon with seven heads. "Take a seat, junger zauberer," Alt murmured, his dark, steady eyes gazing up at the pale Slytherin. "I had to make sure our conversation would remain private. Maul does not like his secrets told so much that even he forgets them. It would not due for him to remember."Draco's pale brows shot skywards as he favored the old priest with a surprised look that rarely twisted his features. "You know something about Maul." "Sit," Alt repeated, gesturing to the cushions beside him. Draco sat, feeling once again like a rapt student. "I read your file," Alt murmured, flipping the page and watching the pale, pointed young man lean closer and squint as he tried to read the fine-printed script. "I don't know this language well," Draco said, pointing at the script. "I've studied Gaelic to better understand the Runic language, but this...this is the old Roman dialect, isn't it? Latin? But this...and this...I don't recognize this at all.""Your father's name," Alt continued, ignoring the young man's interruption, "caused me to look twice at the Prophezeiung and this Tulpa that inhabits your body.""What is this language?" Draco demanded, pointing again at the strange marks on the old document. "Aramaic," Alt muttered distractedly. "Now listen, please.""I've seen it before." Draco frowned, trying to remember. "No. No, I haven't. But I feel like I remember something about it. It's pulling at some obscure memory...""Junger mann," Alt said sharply, finally getting Draco's attention. "Lucius, your father's name."Draco scowled darkly. "What of it?""Look here," Alt flipped the page again, revealing another inked drawing, this time with a frightening, fiery demon prowling in the foreground and with more odd marks, different from the pages before. "This is der Morgenstern and this...this is the Morning Star. Luzifer."Startled, Draco looked into the priest's gnarled and worn face. "The Morning Star? Doesn't sound like the name of a demon to me.""He used to be an angel.""Really?" Intrigued, Draco peered back down at the book. "What happened?""Luzifer challenged God for the Throne of Heaven. After the Great War of Heaven, God cast Luzifer down to Hell and gave Him lordship over those burning lands."Disappointed, Draco sat back and crossed his arms. He had heard hundreds of stories like that from a dozen different religions. It was nothing new. All it did was give clarification on the origins of his father's name. Neither of which was all that profound to him. "Originally," Alt continued, "I came here thinking this was just another ridiculous, ungodly, Wizarding blunder. But then I was told of your Prophezeiung and that it was rumored Maul resided within you.""And He does," Draco muttered irritably. "Tell me something I do not already know, or get the hell out."Alt pursed his lips and looked steadily at Draco, ever the patient one. "Maul is the son of the Morning Star. My faith has a Prophezeiung too. We call him the Anti-Christus."Draco opened his mouth to reply and then shut it. Alt went on. "It is said that a woman mates with the Dragon--in this case, Luzifer--and begets a powerful, pure-bred son that arises with such political power as to be feared and respected. From this throne of power, the Anti-Christus takes control of the world and the End of Days marks the beginning of the end."As Draco tried to digest this, Alt continued. "Your father's name translates to 'Morning Star of Foul Faith'. What do you think your name translates to?""I was named after a constellation," Draco said stiffly. "And if you knew my father, you would know how ridiculous you sound. Lucius Malfoy was a slimy, power-hungry git who marked his son for a demon, followed an illegitimate Half-Blood of a Dark Lord whimpering out of fear, and stood idly by as Voldemort murdered his wife! He was a simpering, ponce of a man and if this is what you want me to believe Lucifer is like, than I'll take my chances with his son, Priest.""You're misunderstanding me," Alt murmured, shaking his head sadly. "Your father is not Luzifer like you are not Maul."Draco looked away. "You cannot deny the similar context--""Fine," Draco grated, continuing to avert his gaze. "So what now?""The Sword of Godric Gryffindor cannot kill Maul," Alt stated. "Nothing can; save for the might of Christus himself."Draco snorted. "So what's the bad news?" he asked nastily. Alt sighed. "But it can weaken it."Draco looked up."And if Zauberer Potter can force Maul out of your sphere of energy after the Inversion Enchantratem takes effect, Maul can be cast back to Hell."Draco's gray eyes looked suspicious. "How can you be sure?""Because it's happened before." Alt turned the pages of the small book, pointing out small scripts here and there. "For thousands of years," Alt murmured softly, "Maul has hungered for human form and fought to set fore-told prophecies into motion. This is why Exorzists exist, young magician. It is our job to cast Him back to the depths of the Underworld."Draco was no longer looking at the little black book, he was studying the old priest, watching the sadness and guilt seep and engulf his dark, brooding eyes. "You failed once?"Alt looked up, the burning guilt bright in his dark eyes. "No, Dragon of Foul Faith. I lost a little girl who chose to suffer for the sins of others. I mourn her.""You were blamed for her death?""Yes."Draco thought for a moment. "Is there a chance I can survive this?"Alt nodded. "Annaliese chose to suffer the torment of her demons. You fight yours. There is a chance you could survive." Alt paused. "However, Maul will leave His handprint on your soul."Draco closed his eyes. "He's told me as much.""Has He?"Draco nodded. Minutes passed before Draco spoke again. "Will you perform the exorcism?""I was asked here only to give my opinion," Alt said, looking away. "I was told I would not be asked to do anything. I am no longer an Exorzist."Draco regarded the elder man, his eyes soft and thoughtful despite the coldness of his gaze. "Yes, you are."Alt bent his head but did not return Draco's gaze."You can atone for the guilt of her death, Priest, by saving my life," Draco said softly. "If you walk away, you would never be able to forgive yourself. You are an Exorcist, this is what you do. Choose in.""Junger mann, you do not know what you ask of me.""Choose in, Priest." Draco's gaze never wavered. "I was not strong enough to save Annaliese, Zauberer. I may not be able to save you.""I have faith in you, Priest." Draco smiled sardonically. Bad faith. Foul faith. So be it. "Choose in.""My soul is too heavy."Compassion. It was a strange feeling for the Slytherin Pureblood, but if filled him up until he was dizzy with it. "Then lighten it, Priest." Draco's smile turned kind. "Choose in."Alt finally looked into Draco's cold, gray eyes, strangely finding a warmth there he hadn't felt in a long, long time. Alt wondered if that world-weary, young, black-haired Auror was drawn to that same warmth beneath the icy exterior of this pale, pointed man. Alt wondered if this was why he protected him so fiercely. God's love is cruel and just. Redemption.So be it. ~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~The Hearing~Part One"Witnesses"**There was some speculation that Harry Potter had disappeared the day before the Ministry's hearing to avoid punishment for his actions because no one voiced seeing him since he left the Minister's Office the day prior. However, when Harry Potter--unusually impeccably dressed with finely pressed Auror's robes, the Order of the Phoenix emblem embroidered on the front, and his normally wild black locks tamed with some sort of charm to lay just-so around his face and neck--showed at the door of the Ministry’s Court Hall an hour before the hearing, a breeze of murmurs whispering in his wake, no one was sure if they were relieved or disappointed. Harry spoke to no one, even Hermione Granger or his partner, Ronald Weasley, and kept to himself in one corner as officials, Department Heads, Aurors of the Malfoy Case, and witnesses began crowding the space in front of the large double doors, everyone waiting semi-patiently for the doors to open. Rita Skeeter was allowed to come as a witness, but she was forbidden her notorious notebook and magicked quill. In fact, she was the only member of the press allowed into the hearing, would be called first to the stand, and then would be asked to leave immediately thereafter. The column she had written had already caused seemingly irreparable damage and she would not be privy to anymore confidential information regarding Draco Malfoy, nor those involved in his case. Eventually, the large oak doors opened and they were admitted inside. Someone Harry didn't recognize touched his elbow discreetly and ushered him to a seat behind and to the left of where Minister Scrimgeour already sat. Harry became immediately confused, even though he refused to show it in his face. Normally, the accused would either sit isolated in one corner on a high stand as witnesses were called to a lone chair in the middle of the circular room. If they were deemed dangerous, the accused would be remanded to a small, barred cell with long, steel thorns pointed inward to keep the accused docile before, during, and after questioning. For Harry to be seated so near the Minister of Magic during his own hearing was odd. Harry wondered if it was Scrimgeour's way of sending a silent message to the Department Heads and officials that made up the Jury. Said Jury made little to no noise as they began filing to their seats around the room, their chairs stacked high along the walls of the circular room. The gathered witnesses were directed to a row towards the back, all but obscured by shadow once the lights dimmed, illuminating only the Jury and the lonely chair at the center of the room. Harry wanted to speak to the Minister as everyone finally took their seats and settled into silence, but he knew better. Harry watched as Hermione Granger took a seat near Arthur Weasley, interested in the fact that, though she claimed to be the voice behind Rita's column, she was permitted--as was her right as the Prime Secretary and Head of the Muggle Affairs Division--to sit alongside the other Department Heads and not with the shadow-cloaked witnesses. Aurors stood standing near where the witnesses were seated and Harry could just barely make out Ron's shock of red hair, the shine of Anin's bald head, and the glimmer of Severus Snape's oily locks. Draco was not there. Neither was Blaise Zabini, Father Ernst Alt, or Maximus Cure. Understandably, Cure would be remanded to his cell as he continued to brew the final stages of the Inversion Enchantratem and called to the witness chair only if the Jury deemed it necessary. And Draco...well, the Ministry may wish to keep him safely inside the Suite until absolutely necessary. Harry couldn't imagine the Jury dismissing Draco Malfoy's testimony altogether. The Slytherin would be here eventually; Harry was sure of it. But then Harry spotted Dolores Umbridge smiling smugly in his direction...and he was not so sure. However, when all was said and done, Blaise Zabini should definitely be here, for the prosecution's sake as well as his defense's. Father Ernst Alt had as much right to be here as Anin or Mackle, and especially Dolores Umbridge, whose status was smeared by her actions at Hogwarts during the war. Only her loyalty to the Ministry kept her a job within these walls; and Harry gritted his teeth against the sudden bile that rose in his throat. He was uncomfortable with so many people missing when Dolores Umbridge, with no clear reason for being here, was present. Harry didn't like it. Something was...off. In fact...many things were 'off'. The woman who had ushered Harry to his seat made her way to the center of the Hall. Harry tried to place her, thinking he had seen her before, but couldn't remember her name. She was close to her sixties, if not already well into them, fine-boned, fair but not pretty, and seemed to carry an air of quiet dignity and intelligence. Her face held the self-same shrewdness of Minerva McGonagall, the Hogwarts newest Headmistress, and had graying auburn hair that fell straight and just past her ears. The woman wore dark judiciary robes and a square hat. She opened her mouth to speak. "The Ministry has decided to conduct this requested hearing as an Auror's Annual Review," the woman said, her clear voice cutting through the silence like a knife; and, suddenly, Harry realized where he knew her from. He still couldn't remember her name, but when he was fifteen, this woman had been at Harry's hearing after he had been charged for Illegal Use of Magic for Underage Wizards. Harry remembered that she had been something of an advocate for him and had voted to drop all charges after Dumbledore had proffered a Squib to testify that there were, indeed, Dementors attacking Harry and his Muggle cousin Dudley at the time of the crime. Harry's green eyes wandered back over to where Dolores Umbridge perched in her bubblegum pink robes and watched her smug smile tighten into something that more resembled a grimace. "Forgive me," Umbridge interjected in her sugar-sweet voice. "However, I was under the impression that one Harry Potter would be charged with--""With what?" the woman said, her clear voice never wavering; as if she had expected this comment from Umbridge. "Dolores, the Ministry fails to see any distinct crime committed by Auror Potter. And while his actions may be proved to be inappropriate and unfitting for duty, as far as we can tell, he has done nothing illegal and his behavior can be dealt with by the customary review board.""Madame Comfrey." Umbridge smiled sweetly, but Harry could read the contempt in the curve of her pink lips. "If there was a proper investigation, I'm sure SOMETHING could be found to clarify the necessity of a formal hearing. The people have requested one, after all." Madame Comfrey--the woman's apparent name--returned Umbridge's smile icily. "While your impromptu request for a 'proper investigation' is duly noted, the Malfoy Case calls for more haste and less...meddling. Today, we will publicly investigate and ascertain whether or not we, as the Ministry of Magic's Judiciary System, can responsibly continue to allow this particular Auror to remain Head Auror on this case. If he proves worthy, we will drop this matter soundly and continue as planned. If not, he will be removed completely from this case and his full punishment will be assessed at a later time. I should add, this decision is not up for debate." Madame Comfrey gave Umbridge a pointed look before turning to Scrimgeour and offering a small bow from her tiny waist. "Let us begin."Harry saw Umbridge stiffen before relaxing back into her seat. Harry frowned. True, it had always been obvious that this horrible, horrible woman had it out for him...but it seemed that even though Harry wasn't going to be charged with any actual crime, and therefore, wasn't going to be humiliated with a formal trial, Umbridge seemed pleased that the 'Annual Review' would be public. It almost seemed as if Umbridge had a plan. Despite Madame Comfrey claiming that Harry would be subjected to a 'Review' rather than a 'Hearing', everyone with two wits to rub together knew that what was about to unfold was in fact a 'Hearing', even though they weren't going to call it one. Harry glanced at the Minister of Magic and realized this was Scrimgeour's way of saving face and not necessarily an act of kindness. Yes, Harry Potter had a better chance of keeping his job because he wasn't being charged with an actual crime and so therefore, yes, it was highly unlikely the Ministry of Magic's most famous Auror would be sent to Azkaban, but, no, this was not a favor to Harry Potter. This was a way for Scrimgeour to neutralize all bad publicity to the Ministry and, specifically, the Auror's Division, and dump it right on Harry. It was all the same to Harry. In fact, he preferred it that way because it would take the heat off of his partner and his partner’s fiancée. However, there would still be witnesses presented and their testimony to consider. There would still be judges discussing presented evidence and a jury delivering a final vote at the end of the day. And Harry still had to prove the need for him to remain on the Malfoy Case. They weren't going to call it a 'Hearing', but that was what it was nonetheless. The first witness, Rita Skeeter, was led to the lone chair at the center of the Hall. She spoke enigmatically, and her words mirrored that of her column. Rita refused to reveal the identity of her source and no one could force her to. After much deliberation, Rita Skeeter was dismissed. Everyone knew her damage had already been inflicted; there was no real reason to draw it out further. Harry Potter didn't miss the wink Rita Skeeter sent Dolores Umbridge before she left the hall and narrowed his green eyes. Madame Comfrey had sat next to Harry during Skeeter's testimony but had barely acknowledged his existence beyond that. Harry leaned in and whispered: "When will I be called?""At the end," Comfrey whispered back, her thin mouth barely moving. Every Auror involved in the Malfoy Case were then called, one by one, to the lone chair. Each explained their involvement and each denied any suspicion of a scandal. A few were forced to admit to disapproving of some action on Harry Potter's part, mostly concerning the oddity of the Wisconsin Incident. However, every single one of them deduced that, had it not been for Harry Potter's actions during the event at Willow Station, Draco Malfoy would have surely lost his magic--killing countless Muggles as he did so--and quite possibly lost his own life as well. During every Auror's testimony, Umbridge asked the same question: "Be that as it may, would Draco Malfoy have been in that position at all if Harry Potter hadn't abandoned him in America?"And the answer was always a variation of: "I don't know." But more than a few made a point of describing countless occasions where someone had been charged with the safety of another and made mistakes, inevitably resulting in some sort of mishap. Namely, Albus Dumbledore, Barty Crouch, and, specifically, Cornelius Fudge, who, as Minister, had been charged with the safety of the Wizarding World and ignored the testimony of a fifteen year old boy and slandered the name of the most prestigious Wizard of the age, Hogwarts Headmaster Dumbledore, resulting in the only defense against Voldemort and his band of Death Eaters infiltrating the Ministry to steal the former Prophecy was a band of misfit teenagers calling themselves Dumbledore's Army. There were deaths and injuries and everything thereafter spiraled downward from catastrophe to catastrophe until, finally, the Eve Battle--and Draco Malfoy--ended it all for good two years later. Each Auror was careful not incriminate Minister Scrimgeour himself in recollections such as these; however, the allusion was there and lost only on the dimwitted few. Then, finally, Harry Potter's partner Ronald Weasley was called. Harry watched with bated breath as Ron made his way to the chair, knowing, that if asked directly, Ron would have to admit to Harry confessing his affair with Malfoy to him. Harry could have kicked himself. He should never, ever have done that. It seemed, however, that the interrogating judiciaries had become more interested in the actual case since the revealing testimony of the previously-called Aurors. As Ron droned on, answering the rapidly asked questions, Harry could have eaten his shoes out of frustration as everything--EVERYTHING--about the Malfoy Case was revealed in full. The warrant for Draco's death, the reasoning behind the St. Mary's venture, the Inversion Enchantratem, the Prophecy, the suspension, the few days after Harry came back from Number Twelve Grimmauld Place and the battle with The Gatherer and his army of Death Eaters, the willing incarceration of Draco Malfoy, the threat of the Dementor's Kiss, the Sword of Godric Gryffindor, and the untrained Wizard that they had brought back to England to give his professional opinion on the impending exorcism of Maul, the Black Tulpa. Soon, Ron's voice was drowned out as the murmuring between the judiciaries and the officials around the room rose to shouts and high-pitched exclamations of fear and discontent. Harry squirmed in his seat as Scrimgeour stood to his feet, pounding a hammer against the rail and shouting for order. Harry saw Dolores Umbridge smiling and felt sick as she turned her beady little eyes in his direction. He saw her arsenic-glossed, maliciously-sweet smile widen and her thin lips part. Harry jumped to his feet to try and drown out whatever she was about to say but was pulled violently back down by Madame Comfrey. As Harry's butt slammed into the seat of his chair she hissed: "Don't push it, Potter!"Something very akin to panic began to boil in his chest, and Harry looked wildly at Comfrey as the elderly, surprisingly strong, judiciary stared expectantly across the hall at Umbridge.Umbridge rose slowly to her feet, her beady eyes bright and slightly feverish, and let out a sharp little giggle. Harry wasn't sure how she did it, but that small sound, like so many years before at Hogwarts, slowly quieted the large, circular Court Hall filled with unsettled Wizards and Witches. Every head turned towards her and Umbridge sat delicately back into her seat. "I am sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this being kept quiet," Umbridge said in her deceivingly sweet voice, sending a meaningful glance in Madame Comfrey's direction. "However, all the incredible revelations Auror Weasley has been testifying here today only proves the utmost necessity to make sure that only the most capable Wizards and Witches are involved in this...this..." Umbridge paused, trying to think of the perfect phrase. "Potentially problematic situation," she finished finally. Hermione rolled her eyes. Umbridge gazed icily down at Ron. "Auror, were you aware of Harry Potter's scandalous actions with his sworn ward, Draco Malfoy?"Ron blinked. Harry nearly smiled. Almost. But not quite. Dolores Umbridge should have re-worded her question. "No," Ron said firmly. The Veritiserum he had taken before being called to the Witness Stand forced the truth from him; and Ronald Weasley, blessedly oblivious, had not, indeed, been aware of any scandal. At the time of the scandal.Umbridge frowned. "Are you certain?""Yes," Ron replied, visibly forcing himself to relax. "I am perfectly certain I was unaware." Hermione smiled and Harry caught it out of the corner of his eye. Harry knew that look and wanted to pull at his hair. What was going on?!Scrimgeour took a deep breath and looked over his shoulder to exchange a glance with Madame Comfrey. Comfrey nodded slightly. "Are you satisfied, Dolores?" Scrimgeour required mildly, looking tired. Umbridge looked flustered. "Hardly. However..." Umbridge shrugged and lifted her chin. "Call the next witness, if it pleases you, Minister."A sigh of relief swept through Ron's body as he stood to his feet, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Severus Snape replaced him in the lone chair. Harry swallowed nervously. By some stroke of random luck, Harry had won one battle. If Ron had been forced to admit to Harry's confession in Germany, Harry would certainly have been discredited. Especially after the unraveling of the finer, more disturbing, points of the Malfoy Case. However, Ron managed to escape that interrogation, giving Harry some time. Harry managed to figure out that Scrimgeour, Comfrey, Ron, and--quite possibly--Hermione, as well, had devised a plan to use the imminent danger of the case as a way to divert attention away from Harry's misconduct and, thereby, causing the Jury to desire Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, to remain as their default hope against this new threat. So far, it had worked. But then...Umbridge seemed dead set against this plan; plainly using all her power to keep the interrogation pointed towards Harry's 'supposed' philandering. Umbridge would realize her mistake soon, and would definitely not make the same one again. All the same, Harry was confused, thinking that it was all prolonging the inevitable. Harry would eventually be called to the stand. And he would then be forced to admit to his affair with Draco as he had to the Minister two days prior. Were they waiting for something? What were they waiting for?Severus Snape managed to look utterly bored as he lounged in the lonely, uncomfortable chair. "First question...?"The Jury still seemed to be dazzled and confused by the fearful news of an enraged and powerful Tulpa trapped inside of Draco Malfoy's body. Someone finally managed: "What is your involvement in the Malfoy Case?"Snape's thin lips twisted and he rolled his eyes, one black brow lifting slightly. "Draco Malfoy is my godson..." Snape stated slowly.He was in on it too, Harry decided. They were stalling for something. What was it?Umbridge was looking suspicious as well. "We know and understand you relativity to the ward, Professor," she snapped. "How HAVE you been involved in the Malfoy CASE?""Would you like the whole of it, Dolores," Snape asked in his bored, slow drawl, "or would you like a summarized version?""I'm losing my patience," Umbridge replied in a sing-song voice.Snape tilted his head to the side. "While wondering why, of all people, you would lose your patience at a time like this would be more amusing than it would be relevant, I assume that what you really want to know is my less amusing and rather more relevant opinion on the Auror in question?"Umbridge made a show of attempting to look disinterested while being obviously disgruntled. "Among other things, yes; why don't you start with that?""I have always been of the opinion that Harry Potter is an arrogant, incompetent buffoon," Snape said mildly, sneering in Harry's direction. "However," Snape said abruptly, "the 'Auror in question' owed my godson a life debt and had dedicated his first years as an Auror to protecting Draco Malfoy. Therefore..." Snape paused. "Therefore, it is probably my duty to acknowledge said Auror's most sincere motivations for this case and, furthermore, I should point out that the column that caused this trial was incorrect. At least, on one account. It was my and Headmistress McGonagall’s collaboration that originally sent Draco Malfoy to America. Ronald Weasley was informed first and it was us three who eventually convinced Potter." Snape's lips twisted again as he handed a nearby Auror a letter from the Headmistress of Hogwarts confirming Snape’s statement. "I also know for a fact that Potter was not aware of Maul's Prophecy until Draco himself had told him; only hours before the attack by Cruent Mantle and his band of misfit Death Eaters."Umbridge's face turned stony. Harry wanted to cheer. The murmurs began to rise around the room again. "Don't you think that Potter should have unveiled this Prophecy long before it became such a threat, Professor?" Umbridge asked through clenched teeth. Snape smirked at her. "I was privy to Voldemort's most inner circle, Dolores, and not even I knew of the Prophecy. Though, there were quite a few accounts where Potter made some extraordinarily insulting inquiries on the House of Slytherin..."Harry winced. "Insulting inquiries?" Dolores inquired, interested. The answer lies within Slytherin. Harry closed his eyes. "Potter asked me to study a list of suspects before whisking off to investigate elsewhere. All the names were Slytherin students of mine. A personal disagreement between the two of us, nothing more.""Hmm." Dolores thought for a moment, but whatever she was going to ask was interrupted by another judiciary, asking their own question. This inquiry, and the many that followed it, directly concerned the case and, while most of Snape's views on Harry's actions therein seemed sour at best, none of them were discriminatory. Snape's answers dripped like molasses from his thin, twisting lips and the Jury soon tired of his bored voice and slow, grating answers. He was dismissed and as Harry watched his retreating form, he thought he felt something close to appreciation for the oily sadist that used to instruct his Potions classes in the surliest fashion. Mary Heart was called to the stand; her answers mirrored much of the same. Trisha Knockwood had nothing negative to say. Umbridge was developing a twitch in her jaw. To appease the disgruntled Jury, Maximus Cure[1] was sent for and interrogated; his wily, eccentric answers belying the handsome, airy figure he cut. Harry was struck by how different Maximus Cure seemed from the Michael Deans he met in Wisconsin. Harry supposed that was the trick of being a con. Harry grimaced as Cure made light of how Draco had seemed to disappear from under both their noses and ended up nearly imploding himself at Willow Station. Harry noticed how Cure averted his eyes when he tried to joke about that, seeing that it pained him to think he nearly killed the Malfoy heir. Harry couldn't tell if it was for show or not. Cure claimed he didn't know how, exactly, Blaise Zabini managed to have him released, but asserted that it was more than probable that Draco Malfoy could survive a second "session" with the Inversion Enchantratem in a controlled environment...given that the exorcism is successful. At that, many eyes turned towards Harry, who forced himself to lift his chin and look as bold as possible. Before Cure was sent away, their eyes met, and Harry felt a sense of regret and sadness peek out from behind the wildness of those clever, hazel eyes. Something pulled in Harry's chest. He knew Cure's file, but it had been Blaise who had explained that Michael Deans had been his friend, not some hapless classmate. It had been Deans' idea to experiment with the Inversion Enchantratem and Cure had gone along. Harry understood the swell of guilt that never, ever went away, that thing that stays lodged in your throat no matter what you do, preventing you from expressing the full extent of your remorse. Being responsible for the death of a friend was something Harry Potter knew too well and Harry looked away first. Umbridge, whose twitch was becoming even more prominent as her frustration grew, finally demanded that they call Harry Potter. Harry tensed. Comfrey stated that there were more witnesses to call. "With much of the same testimony," Umbridge countered. "We are here to ascertain Potter's misconduct! I think it's time to hear HIS testimony."Harry bit his lip, feeling incredibly nervous all over again. Dolores Umbridge was going to tear him to pieces. "I do not think that will be necessary," cut a voice from the very end of the hall. "For the grounds of this trial can be proven to be delivered illegally," Draco Malfoy finished as he emerged from the shadows of the entryway, an entourage of four Aurors, Blaise Zabini, an uncomfortable, hunched-over Wizard Harry had never seen before, Percival Weasley, and the pale blond head of the dreamy-eyed Luna Lovegood in tow. “I can prove the illegality of the column written by one Rita Skeeter and the involvement of former Secretary Dolores Umbridge,” Draco Malfoy stated clearly, his voice carrying across the Court Hall, his grey eyes flashing and his mouth curving into that infamous sneer. ~~ [1]: I accidentily wrote "Cruent Mantle"'s name here and just recently fixed it due to Mangacat and Queen Bodicea's watchful eyes. Thanx guys. WHen I read your reviews, I said, "No way!" but I sure did. Yes, Cruent Mantle is dead and it was Maximus Cure they sent for and interrogated. Just an embarrassing typo on my part. Thanx again for the help! ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~The Hearing~Part Two“Did we create a modern mythDid we imagine half of itWould happen in a thought from nowSave yourselfSave yourselfThe secret is outThe secret is outTo buy the truthAnd sell a lieThe last mistake before you dieSo don't forget to breathe tonightTonight's the last, so say good-byeThe secret is out… Good-bye…” ~30 Seconds To Midnight; ‘A Modern Myth’ "Scientific Deduction"**Draco Malfoy offered a lazy smile as he faced the Jury.Harry Potter's mind seemed to freeze.Hermione smiled in relief and sunk bonelessly in her chair. Comfrey took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Scrimgeour leaned back in his seat, twisting a tendril of his lion's-mane hair in his fingers. "Draco Malfoy," Scrimgeour greeted. "You have evidence of such an accusation?""I do, Minister." Draco turned to the hunched-over Wizard on his left. "This is Hogarth Rivers. He's a Healer from St. Mungo's and works here at the Ministry. He has found traces of ethanol, scopolamine, temazepam, and various barbiturates including the anesthetic induction agent sodium thiopental in the blood of Rita Skeeter's source. These chemicals are the main components of the potion 'Veritiserum'.""Rita Skeeter's source?" someone shouted. "What is this madness?""Who is this source?" another exclaimed. Fair, silvery brows arched as Draco Malfoy tsked tsked and crossed his arms. "You have yet to ascertain Skeeter's source?" Draco inquired, his voice heavy with mock disappointment. "I thought this was supposed to be an investigation."Dolores Umbridge looked as if she were going to explode. "Indulge us," Madame Comfrey called, a pleased look on her face. Draco pointed into the stands. "Hermione Granger, of course." Astonishment swept through the Jury like a brisk wind. Hermione smiled weakly. "I also have a witness," Draco continued, his clear voice carrying over the loud murmurs with ease. "Placing a dazed Hermione Granger in the custody of Rita Skeeter and..." Draco paused for dramatic affect. "...Dolores Umbridge at the time of the alleged 'interview'.""Objection!" Dolores shrieked, jumping to her pudgy, pink-clad feet. "Draco Malfoy, you have no grounds to be here! Your incarceration demands that you remain within the Minister's Quarters at all times. It is illegal for you to be here at all!""Illegal?" Draco's eyes turned thoughtful--in the most demeaning way. "Huh." Draco leaned against the arm of the lonely chair in the middle of the hall, looking incredibly comfortable. "Unless things have changed so drastically during the time I slept in St. Mungo's, I do believe that drugging a Department Head without authorization--in which you had none--and abducting said Department Head against her will is unlawful. Therefore, not only is YOUR presence here inappropriate, but the very grounds for this proceeding is also unlawful. I move for this mock-hearing--or whatever your Honors would like to call it--to be stricken completely from the record and the Auror's Division to resume control of..." Draco made a face. "...the Malfoy Case."The twitch in Umbridge's jaw was becoming sporadic. "Mr. Malfoy, you cannot--""Oh," Draco smiled at her, his eyes as cold as the morning mist. "Yes, I can.""Minister!" Umbridge whirled towards Scrimgeour, imploring. "Please command reason! We must have order here!"Draco's smile vanished. "Madame Dolores Umbridge!" Draco shouted suddenly, his voice commanding and abrupt. Umbridge turned back to him as Harry felt time slow and then stop. Harry watched Draco's face turn stony and his eyes become bright and contemptuous; and, for a split second, Harry was convinced he was looking at Albus Dumbledore. Harry blinked. No.No. It was Lucius. He blinked again. No. Neither. Just Draco. The best of both men. And Harry's heart broke, knowing, in reality, it was more like the worst of both men. For the first time, Harry found himself wondering what Draco Malfoy could have become if there had been no warrant for his death; if there had been no Prophecy or Black Tulpa. Draco Malfoy was intelligent, powerful, and clever. He was also manipulative, always having the ability to see right into a person's weakness and exploit it. It was no small wonder that, with the vanquishing of the Dark Lord adding to his prestige, the Department Heads and officials that made up the Jury paid close attention to what he had to say."You cry for order, Madame Umbridge, but you create chaos," the Malfoy heir spat coldly. "You screech for justice, yet you break the law. I have witnessed this in you, again and again. I was once privy to your inner most circle, Madame Umbridge; I know who you are."Umbridge hissed as she sucked in a breath, her face turning red with rage.Draco approached the stands, glaring up at her with icy eyes. "I am astounded that you are still even permitted inside the Ministry's walls," Draco declared in a quiet voice that still seemed to carry throughout the Hall. Umbridge reared herself up. "You speak these words to me while carrying the most evil entity known to man inside of you?"Draco tipped his head to one side. "Yes," Draco replied calmly. "Are they resonating?"Umbridge's sharp retort was interrupted by Madame Comfrey. "Sit DOWN, Dolores!" Comfrey turned her attention to Draco. "Mr. Malfoy, you claimed you have a witness to testify to your claims of illegitimate grounds. Can you produce this witness?""I can, Madame," Draco stated. He jerked his chin a bit and Percy Weasley stepped forward. Percy then gave his testimony and Umbridge began to look utterly defeated. When he finished, Percy glanced towards Umbridge. "I warned you to stay away from my family, Umbridge," he said. "Hermione Granger will soon become my sister.""How wondrously sentimental, you traitorous weasel," Umbridge snarled back. Percy glowered at her as he was dismissed and Minister Scrimgeour motioned for two Aurors to come forward. "Take her away," Scrimgeour said evenly.Dolores Umbridge stiffened but did not retaliate. Before they led her from the Hall, she paused before the Minister, glancing once at Harry--who still was too bewildered to think. "Remember that it was not a false confession, Minister. Though the extraction was illegal, Granger spoke the truth. Harry Potter is not fit for this case."Her words resounded throughout the Hall and Harry began to wonder if it was really over now or not. He narrowed his eyes on Blaise Zabini and Luna Lovegood, both standing inconspicuously behind Draco and didn't think so. Scrimgeour sighed heavily. "While your admission to me was one in confidence, Harry," he murmured, quietly so only Harry could hear. "There is some merit to what she said."Harry swallowed. "I understand.""The proceeding will continue," Scrimgeour announced. "Your efforts were valiant, Mr. Malfoy. However, since this is not a formal hearing, the grounds for the review are irrelevant. The Annual Auror's Review will be seen out to its conclusion."Oddly, Draco hardly looked surprised. "Very well. May I ask that we forgo any more unnecessary testimony and get right down to it, Minister?""That would be more than pleasing," Scrimgeour replied. "Auror Harry Potter. Please approach the Witness Chair."Draco and his 'entourage' fell back as Harry made his way down. Harry tried to catch Draco's eye but the blond Slytherin wouldn't look at him. Harry sat down in the chair, his stomach doing somersaults as he did so. Madame Comfrey cleared her throat to quiet the steady thrum of murmurs from those gathered. "Auror, explain to us, in detail, your involvement in the Malfoy Case."From start to finish, Harry gave his testimony; omitting, of course, anything about his personal relationship with Draco Malfoy. However, he wasn't going to get off as easily as Ron did. When he had concluded, Madame Comfrey asked the dreaded question. "Auror, did you, or did you not, involve yourself in an affair with your ward, Draco Malfoy."Harry closed his eyes as he answered: "Yes.""Did you attempt to file a Case Transfer?""Yes.""But you failed to complete one?""Yes.""So, you knowingly and willingly made no attempt to distance yourself from your ward?"Harry laughed softly. "Oh, there were attempts aplenty.""But you chose to continue your philanderous affair, understanding that it not only put your ward in danger, but your misconduct also put the reputation and livelihood of your partner, Ronald Weasley, and the entirety of the Auror's Division in jeopardy?"Harry hesitated. "Yes, ma'am."Draco stepped forward, his face the very persona of severity. "I have proof, Madame, that the Horcrux Scar the he and I share is responsible for his 'misconduct'." This shocked every soul in the room. Even Hermione Granger gasped. It took Madame Comfrey several moments to recover. "I beg your pardon?""I have scientifically deduced that the magic of the Horcrux Scar is responsible for Harry Potter's actions and, without the presence of this anomaly, this Auror would never have acted as he did."As Draco's words sunk in, Harry's surprise swiftly turned into anger. "Dra-" "Will you hear my deductions, Minister?" Draco said quickly, drowning out the sound of Harry's voice. "It would be a shame, after all, for the Wizarding World's most prized Auror to be missing on the eve of the most gloriously dangerous exorcism...ever. Especially given that only he can move through my sphere of magic because of our Horcrux connection."Another wave of murmurs. The anger began to turn to rage, smoldering beneath Harry's brilliant green eyes."Forgive me for saying this, Mr. Malfoy, for I know it must sound quite callous," a judiciary called. "However, do we not have a fall back plan if Harry Potter is removed from your case?"Draco smiled pleasantly, belying the seriousness of the matter. The judiciary did just, in fact, refer to his execution should anything go wrong. The blond Slytherin lifted his chin and played his last card. "Are you really so quick to send Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, to his death for a momentary weakness against the driving magic of the Horcrux Scar?"Gasps sounded across the room. "Oh yes," Draco continued. "You must know; if I die, he dies."Harry remembered the night Draco slit his wrists. Harry remembered the realization that he would have to die in order for Voldemort to be vanquished before Draco had flown in to save him from that fate. Quickly, Draco, walking in slow circles around the Witness Chair Harry was seated in, explained why he had needed to brew the Verve Channel Electron Elixir in order to save Harry Potter's life and destroy the Dark Lord simultaneously. He then explained that when the Horcrux Scar was transferred into himself, his fate became intertwined with that of Harry Potter because of the inversion of the transmitted Horcrux. Harry Potter, when he owned the Scar, had to die in order to destroy the last remaining Horcrux that kept Voldemort intact. However, when Draco used the VCE Elixir to transmute the Horcrux into himself, not only did he take the part of Voldemort's soul that was stored into Harry's body, but he also took a portion of Harry's soul as well, in exchange for a portion of his own. Draco explained that when he used the Killing Curse on himself, the intention to destroy Voldemort's last portioned soul was so clear that the Curse targeted it, allowing the excess parts of Harry's and his own soul to revitalize his body. Draco deduced the years he spent in his coma was his body's way of adjusting to the affects of the thwarted Killing Curse and the new parts of Harry's soul inside of him. Even so, when he hade awoken, his body was still traumatized enough that it blocked his memory in a last ditch attempt to recuperate. These "side affects" were also definitive blockades for the two of them to contend with when they were isolated--by Minister Scrimgeour's own order, Draco reminded them--at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. This, Draco concluded, was what was responsible for Harry's irresponsible, and provoked, actions. Without it, Draco was certain Harry Potter would have been nothing more than professional."And," Draco said, smiling as he finished, "if you are still doubtful, I must remind you that, before the VCE Elixir, I despised Harry Potter with every fiber of my being. It would have had to take more than a little flirting to get us in bed together." Someone laughed, many smiled, and Harry Potter looked as though he could throttle one Draco Malfoy. Minister Scrimgeour still looked dubious. "Mr. Malfoy," Madame Comfrey called. "You said you had proof? It is a dazzling hypothesis; however, without--""Other than the obvious evidence, Madame," Draco said, his eyes glinting, "I also have Luna Lovegood's scientific research." Luna stepped forward, and Harry spotted a dozen scrolls peeking out of a satchel she was carrying over one shoulder. "Luna came to me after carefully comparing her work with Hermione Granger's, who, apparently, took it upon herself to study the phenomena of the Horcrux Scar during my coma."Hermione grinned at Harry, but his blazing green eyes were fixed only on the blond Slytherin who paced before him. The Minister exchanged a long look with Madame Comfrey before finally standing to his feet. "In light of this new evidence, I am calling a three hour recess so the Jury can consider it in detail. Ms. Lovegood, Ms. Granger, and Mr. Rivers, please come with us. Aurors, please escort the witnesses to room C94 where they can rest during the recess. Auror Harry Potter, please return to your cubicle until the recess is over. Mr. Malfoy, you will be escorted back to your chambers. Thank you." Scrimgeour slammed down his hammer, marking the beginning of the recess. Harry jumped to his feet and made to approach Draco, but the blond Slytherin nimbly slipped passed him as the Hall became crowded with people making their way to the door and disappeared with his four-Auror guard. Harry's anger began to simmer and boil in his blood. He had never, ever been so humiliated in his life. ~~Draco calmly requested for his guard and Blaise Zabini to remain in the foyer of the Suite, claiming that he needed to be alone with his thoughts. The Malfoy heir made his way steadily through the Suite and into the bedroom, closing the door gently behind him. He turned and leant against the closed door. Then he sunk bonelessly to the floor and put his head in his hands. Cruelty takes a toll on even those born into it. Harry Potter's rage thrummed through Draco's body with a vengeance.~~Harry Potter threw himself into the chair behind his desk in the Auror's Division, ignoring the speculative stares from those around him. Gritting his teeth, Harry snatched Malfoy's file and threw it across the room, watching passively as the scrolls and documents scattered in the air. Then he turned back to his cubicle, dragged his fingers painfully through his hair, and planted his elbows on the desk. Ron tentatively approached his partner after he had collected the loose documents of Malfoy's file and put them neatly back into its folder. Ron placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and Harry jerked away from it. Ron sighed. "I'm not Malfoy's biggest fan, Harry, but I know he's just trying to save your arse."Harry snorted and buried his fingers deeper into his hair. "We're all just trying to help. Zabini had informed us Malfoy said he had a plan so we went along with it," Ron explained softly. "I know you don't like it, but it IS working--""Ron--""And maybe...maybe Malfoy has a point. Maybe this whole affair wasn't your fault and when this is all over you can go back to--"Suddenly, Harry was on his feet and jerking Ron violently by his collar. "You haven't the foggiest fucking clue of what you're talking about," Harry hissed, his breath hot on Ron's cheek. "You weren't there. You don't know. I told you once I would never apologize for how I feel about Malfoy and I fucking meant it. But he just did." Harry abruptly let Ron go and sat back down behind his desk. "He just boiled everything between us down to a fucking equation. How the sodding hell would you feel?"To that, Ron had no answer. ~~Luna smiled indulgently at the faces staring back at her. She and Hermione had just completed their explanation of their joint research and the duo were waiting expectantly for questions. Hogarth Rivers' prognosis had been reviewed and the nervous Wizard had been dismissed. Comfrey opened her mouth to speak, but then sighed and looked over at Scrimgeour. Scrimgeour shrugged. Hermione and Luna exchanged a glance. "It all seems a bit ridiculous," Comfrey murmured in a resigned sort of way. "Yes, but what doesn't?" Scrimgeour replied softly. The Minister shifted in his chair. "Ms. Lovegood, I have to ask, why did you put so much work into this compilation of research in the first place?"Luna regarded him with her misty eyes. "I thought it was interesting," she answered simply, in her dreamy voice. "I was going to write a paper on it, but when I saw the column in the Prophet, I thought my research could be put to better use."Hermione looked strangely at her, but bit her tongue. Luna Lovegood was, by far, the strangest person she had ever met. However, Hermione had learned long ago that when one listened closely to what the seemingly nutty Witch had to say, she often made quite a bit of sense. When figuring that it was Luna Lovegood who had proffered detailed research of the phenomena of the Horcrus Scar, it was almost unsurprising. Comfrey picked a few documents from Hermione's research. "Ms. Granger, you have a some side notes here ascertaining that, quote: 'Love can be the strongest weapon against Maul during the extraction. Harry must decide whether or not he loves Malfoy...' etc. etc, and then: '...it was love that saved Harry when he was an infant and love for his mother that protected Malfoy during the Eve Battle.' Draco Malfoy is claiming that it was a scientific byproduct of the Horcrux Scar that blinded Harry into participating in sexual relations with him. Yet, here you mention love. Forgive me, but, isn't it a stretch to say that this powerful emotion can be explained away by a strange anomaly?"Hermione hesitated. "Yes," she answered. "But Malfoy never claimed anything about powerful emotions being part of the equation. He was simply stating, and I think, rightly so, that Harry Potter's 'actions' and his own 'actions' were influenced by this anomaly that no one had foreseen. Without its presence, Harry would never have--""Can you be so sure?" someone asked. "Are you certain that without their connection through the Scar, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy would never have become lovers? The events leading up to their isolation were extreme and, personally, I know for a fact that guilt and grief can do very drastic things to a person."Hermione lifted her chin. "Malfoy tormented Harry Potter during their childhood. They had always had nothing but animosity for one another. I can admit that they may have come to an understanding, and maybe even forgiven one another, eventually, but it was shock to even those closest to him when their affair became public. And remember, while some Purebloods have been known to take same-sex lovers outside of their heterosexual marriages; they would never, ever make it their primary relationship. It puts too much risk on the bloodlines, which they hold very dear. Draco Malfoy still holds a great deal of contempt for Half-Bloods and Muggle-Borns.""That actually seems hard to believe, given that his own Godfather is a Half-Blood." That statement came from someone near the back. Hermione shrugged. "Socially, it holds less precedence than it used to and Draco Malfoy has bigger problems."There were many nods of consensus. Luna smiled, her misty eyes turning thoughtful. "I think the real decision we must make here is whether or not there is enough evidence to send both of these men to their death for a lapse in judgment and not so much as whether or not the Horcrux Scar is responsible for their affair. This research was a tool to cast doubt and to give them both a chance for survival." Luna paused, her dreamy smile never faltering. "Both Hermione's research and mine concludes that if one dies, the other will too." Luna's smile widened. "Also, I don't think it would be so terrible for the two of them to be lovers. It would send a wonderful message to the Wizarding World if they were to survive this."Some of Madame Comfrey's shrewdness melted. "From the ashes, a beacon of hope and forgiveness.""Precisely." Luna looked content. Hermione gaped at her. Hermione was convinced that no one else on the face of the planet could make something so bizarre sound even remotely reasonable. But Luna Lovegood had. Comfrey and Scrimgeour exchanged another long look. "That only leaves the Death Warrant," Comfrey said. Hermione froze. Luna Lovegood continued to smile. Scrimgeour nodded. "If Harry Potter can reveal the one responsible for the warrant, the original reason for Malfoy's case, then he will be acquitted. All those who agree, say 'aye'."The vote was nearly unanimous. The recess was over. ~~After everyone had filed back into the Court Hall, Harry Potter was called back to the Witness Chair. When Harry had taken his seat, Scrimgeour explained their decision. Harry listened carefully before hanging his head in defeat. He still had no idea who sent out the warrant for Draco's assassination. As he opened his mouth to say so, someone from the Witness Stands cleared his throat. Harry turned in his seat to see Blaise Zabini come forward, his features tight and his hazel eyes apprehensive. "It was I," Blaise said, his voice dry. Even so, those three words had so much impact that everyone was shocked into silence for nearly a minute. Scrimgeour rose to his feet, glaring down at Harry Potter who stared wildly at Blaise Zabini. "And why was he not arrested?" the Minister all but shouted. "Because I do not wish to press charges," Draco Malfoy called from his seat in the stands. "As is my right." Draco leaned back in his seat, his eyes ever-calm, his posture ever-relaxed. "Blaise Zabini withdrew the warrant weeks ago. I understand why he sent it out int he first place. His reasoning mirrors yours, Minister. Zabini knew of the prophecy and worked to prevent the End of Days." Draco stood and his four-Auror guard stood with him. "Will there be anything else?"Scrimgeour looked angry but he slammed down his hammer, saying: "Auror, you have been acquitted of all charges. You may resume your post." Harry stood on wobbly legs as everyone began to move towards the exits. What he felt went beyond shock, it went beyond anger. He was so furious and bitter, and helplessly relieved, that he was dizzy with it. He barely noticed it when Ron and Hermione made their way down to his side to congratulate him. When Harry finally caught his bearings, he looked around; but Draco Malfoy was no where to be found. He and his guard must have slipped away again. Harry pulled away from the crowd that began to gather around him and stalked towards the door, his angry, driven steps taking him directly to the Minister's Suite. ~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~Losing My Religion~//…I thought that I heard you laughing……I thought that I heard you sing……I thought... ...that I saw......you cry…//**Heroth, Nadger, Beron, and Firse were the four Aurors guarding the Minister’s Suite when Harry stalked up, his face a dark cloud of anger. Nadger stepped forward, bodily blocking Harry’s entrance to the foyer. “Potter, I don’t think—““Get out of my way, Nadger,” Harry said in a deadly quiet voice. “Now.”Nadger exchanged a look with Heroth, who considered Harry Potter thoughtfully. Finally, Heroth shrugged. “He’s still the Head Auror.”Reluctantly, Nadger stepped aside, still looking dubious. Harry pointed to the door and waited for all four Aurors to step out into the hall. “No matter what you hear,” Harry murmured as he shut the door, “do not interrupt us.”Harry momentarily closed his eyes and shuddered, trying to get his infamous temper under some semblance of control. He took a deep breath. And then another. It wasn’t working. His blood was still boiling. Harry stepped into the Suite. //…Consider... ...Death……Consider……The lengths that I would go through…//And saw stars as pain blossomed on the side of his jaw, forcing out a ragged gasp. Harry’s hand shot up to his mouth as he stumbled back, catching the blood that was dribbling from the corner of his split lip. Draco swam in his gaze, a very strange look on his face. “What the fuck, Draco?!” Harry exploded, shaking his head to dispel the dizziness that came with Draco’s incredible right hook. A slightly apprehensive look at odds with his outwardly calm demeanor, Draco took a step back, wondering if the Aurors had remembered to confiscate Harry’s wand. It didn’t matter, really. Harry could channel his magic without a wand as well as he could. “I knew you were going to come in here and start a brawl with me, you simple-minded brute,” Draco declared, despising himself for the small tremor in his voice. “I just wanted to get the first punch in.”Harry stared at the blond Slytherin incredulously, the urge to laugh nearly overwhelming. But then he remembered why he was here and growled, stepping forward and shoving Draco’s back against the wall. However, what Draco lacked in strength, he made up for in speed. The Malfoy heir pivoted, snatching Harry’s wrist as he did so, pulling the Auror’s arm behind his back and pushing roughly against the wall until Harry was flush up against it. Draco leaned in and bit down Harry’s earlobe; not enough to draw blood, but just enough to evoke pain and pleasure, and everything else Draco Malfoy was to the Gryffindor Golden Boy. “I just saved your arse, Harry,” Draco whispered into his ear. “Why can’t you just be grateful?”//…Instead it brought me to my knees……And I don’t know if I can do it…//An angry shout erupted from the young Auror as his wandless magic sparked up and threw Draco off of him. Harry whirled around, his brilliant green-eyed glare making Draco pause as the Slytherin straightened. “That’s cheating,” Draco said finally, jabbing a finger at him, a rueful grin trying to show itself on the Slytherin’s lips. “You think this is funny?!” Harry exploded, launching himself at Draco and grabbing the collar of his robes, shaking the blond man violently. “He speaks,” Draco muttered sarcastically as Harry tightened his grip on his clothes. Harry wanted tot throttle him, wanted to crack his face open and make him bleed. He wanted to make him beg, to force whimpered apologies, to make him claim that he didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean it. Harry glared down into those bright, harsh gray eyes, and wanted to kiss the life out of him. To make him confess his true feelings with his hands. To thrust into him until Draco knew he was wrong. Until he knew he didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean it. But Harry didn’t come here to beat Malfoy up, he had to remind himself. Nor did he come here to make violent love to him. Harry took a deep breath and loosened his grip on Draco’s clothes. He had been angry and hurt, and still was; but when Harry slowed his thoughts and looked past his rage, he couldn’t remember exactly why he had come here at all. Harry let go of Draco’s collar and stepped back. //…Hell, no……I said too much……I said enough…//Draco’s eyes blazed in smoky indignation. “No!” Draco shouted, shoving him. “Don’t you dare give up!” Draco shoved him again. “Come on, you coward! You can care so much about me that you hate me for it; that’s okay. I’m used to that. But you are not allowed to be passive!” Harry let out a short bark of laughter and turned away. “I demand that you turn and face me, Potter,” Draco shouted. “Don’t run off and nurse your wounded pride like you did when I killed Voldemort.”Something stiffened in Harry’s spine before he whipped around, his hand flying out from no where and backhanding Draco across the face. Draco managed to smile, even though he had bitten his tongue and the acrid taste of blood filled his mouth. “That’s more like it.”No one would miss you.That’s more like it.//…I thought that heard you laughing……I thought that I heard you sing…//Harry took a step towards Draco, his wandless magic spiking up as Draco’s magic did the same. They stared at one another; grey eyes taunting, green eyes wrathful. A strangled noise sounded near the foyer. They both tore their eyes away to see Nadger gaping dumbly at them. “Get out!” they both shouted simultaneously, glaring murderously at the intruding Auror. Nadger gulped and backed away, shutting the door firmly behind him. Harry’s magic diminished a fraction as he sighed. “Draco, why are you provoking me? Do you want me to hurt you?”“Don’t you want to?” Draco replied softly, his fingers clenching and unclenching. “Sometimes,” Harry admitted, allowing his magic to vanish completely. “I’d rather not, though. Did you mean it?”Draco frowned, allowing his magic to disperse as well. “Of course I did. It’s true, after all.”//…Life is bigger……And bigger……You won’t want me…//Harry seemed twice as angry with his response, but made no indication of attacking Draco again.“I thought you would be happy to know it was the Horcrux Scar all along,” Draco murmured even though he looked as if the words tasted strange in his mouth. “You and me…it’s absurd, and you know it. I…” Draco hesitated, and then sighed. “I don’t want you to die for me, Harry. We both know you can use the Sword of Godric Gryffindor to sever our connection and destroy the Horcrux Scar if it’s necessary. Should you fail—““Don’t.”“Should you fail, I want you to swear to not go and try to be a hero. We all know you’re very brave—““Don’t.”“But you don’t need to—““Malfoy, stop it!” Harry all but screamed, a white hot line, sparked from their connection through the Horcrux Scar, blazed between them, and they were both momentarily blinded. “Stop being a fucking martyr!” Harry surged forward, grabbed Draco by his upper arm, led him into the living room, and shoved him onto the couch. Harry stood over him, shaking with the might of his frustration. Draco looked away. //…The lengths that I would go through…//“If you claim that everything between us was nothing more than a side effect from that blasted Scar, and that you knew it all along, you are no better than Cruent Mantle,” Harry grated. Draco looked up then, baring his gritted teeth as an inexplicable wrath burned in his chest at the mere mention of the Gatherer’s name. “I can buy that the Scar connected us unnaturally,” Harry continued, his face dark, his eyes bright. “Merlin knows I’ve had enough experience with it when Voldemort was alive. But, fuck you very much, Malfoy; I never, ever shagged the Dark Lord.”“I never said—“Harry laughed harshly. “You may as well have.”“That’s not true,” Draco retorted defensively. “I never insinuated—““You insinuated that I was unable to choose my own feelings because of, quote: ‘the driving force of the Horcrux Scar’!”//…I said too much……I said enough…//Draco looked away again, seething. “You want to know what I think--?”“No, actually; but I have a sneaking suspicion you’re going to tell me anyway.”Harry clenched his fingers into fists, digging his fingernails into the flesh of his palms to keep his temper in check. “I think you brought up that ridiculous theory about the Horcrux Scar just to anger me. I think you’re trying to distance yourself because you’re afraid. I think you believe that we’ll make it out of this and then you won’t know what to do with yourself. You’ll have no more reason to be the depressed, persecuted Slytherin snob and you’ll have to make a conscious decision whether or not be happy. And I think it scares the shit out of you. I think you’d rather die than try to be happy because it’s so foreign a thing for you.” //…I thought that I saw you cry…//Draco took in a deep breath. “Even if people like me could be happy, do you think I deserve to be?”//…It’s me…//“People like you?” Harry echoed angrily. “Draco Malfoy, you insufferable ponce; there is no one like you.”//… Me…//Draco looked up at him then, knowing, instinctually, that even if was a backhanded compliment at best, Harry had meant it nevertheless. “Even so.”//…Me in the cold…//Harry shook his head and swiveled his eyes skyward in desperation. When he finally looked back at Draco, the young Auror looked resigned. “I can’t say whether or not you deserve to be happy, Malfoy. No one can, except you. That’s the point of happiness; you have to choose in. It doesn’t just happen to some hapless person at random like the common cold.” Harry paused a moment, feeling suddenly vulnerable. Do you love him? Do you love him? Do you love him?“And I don’t know if we could be happy together, the ‘absurdity’ of our affair aside,” Harry continued at length. “I’d like to try; but I’ll tell you right now: I won’t carry the both of us by myself. You have to attempt to be happy. The last thing I need is some Pureblood Wizarding Hero depressing the hell out of me every time I turn around.”The ghost of a smile curved the corner of Draco’s mouth. Who knew Harry Potter had a sense of humor?I will leave my handprint on your soul.Laughter. I’ll let you sleep. I’ll let you sleep forever. //…Losing my religion……Trying to keep an eye on you……And I don’t know if I can do it……I said too much……I said enough…//Suddenly, all traces of a smile vanished from Draco’s mouth and he scowled. “It’s all very valiant of you, Harry; but—““Good God, Draco!” Harry exclaimed, throwing his hands up. Rage suddenly shot through every fiber of Draco’s being like electricity and he jumped to his feet. “No, dammit! You leave God out of this!”“What?”“You know nothing of God!” Draco shouted, trembling. “NOTHING!”Harry looked confused. “I didn’t mean—““What the hell’s the matter with you?” Draco demanded, and Harry suddenly felt he didn’t recognize this man at all. The calm, steady, sarcastic Draco was gone, replaced by a very frightened, very angry and vulnerable man with wild grey eyes. “You do not understand what you ask of me! I cannot…I cannot… Why can’t you just believe it was the Horcrux Scar? Why can’t you just…just…”//…I though that I heard you laughing……I thought that I heard you sing…//Harry abruptly pulled Draco into his arms, wondering if mentioning the word ‘God’ had triggered Maul’s resentment, shocking Draco out of his reserved façade. “It’s easier to believe it wasn’t real,” Draco whispered into Harry’s neck. “It’s easier to believe we didn’t have a choice.”There will come a time when we will have to decide between what is right and what is easy, Dumbledore had once said. “Why?” Harry whispered back, feeling some Draco’s trembling subside as he calmed. It scared Harry how hair-triggered Draco’s emotions were becoming. Maul was getting stronger. //…Losing my religion…//“Because hope can destroy a person,” Draco said, pulling away and going to stand in front of magicked window. “Eating away at everything from the inside out.” Draco shuddered and rubbed his left forearm—where the scars of his scratched out Dark Mark lay hidden beneath his sleeve. “I learned that lesson when I was sixteen.” Harry stayed standing awkwardly where he was. “I think your confusing hope with despair.”“Fear makes you weak, anger makes you strong,” Draco said in a dead voice, watching the simulation of birds flittering past the window and disappearing into the deep, deep valley. “There’s no room for hope. Nor is there room for happiness. Not for someone like me.” Draco took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Maul will leave his handprint on my soul, even if he does not claim my life.”“Anger makes you just as weak as fear,” Harry murmured. “I learned that lesson when I was sixteen.” Draco snorted despairingly. “Necessity lends us strength,” Harry went on to say. “I’m not going to let you die.”“I’m telling you, it will be better to blame it all on the Horcrux Scar.”Harry shook his head, even though Draco couldn’t see the movement because his back was turned. “Not better, Draco. Easier, but not better.”//…It’s me…//Do you love him? Do you love him? Do you love him?“You can’t save everyone, Harry Potter.”“I can’t save anyone. In the end, we all have to save ourselves. Some things you have to do for yourself, Malfoy.”“I don’t understand.” Three words; and they pulled at Harry’s heart like nothing else. “I could help you understand, but you would have to let me.”“Responsibility, duty, dignity.” Draco looked at his hands. “And purity. Pure contempt, pure malice, pure hate. These things we understand. Nothing diluted; nothing confused or sporadic. Everything else is weakness. Everything else is watered-down. Dirty, muddy. Purebloods hold themselves above the rest because nothing is tainted. We understand the compassion in cruelty; we comprehend the desire in pain. Today, I was Pureblood.” Draco glanced mournfully over his shoulder at Harry. “And you hated me for it. I saw it in your eyes. And you know what I thought?” Draco turned back to the window. “’Good.’ I thought, this is better. This is the way it should be. You were never supposed to not hate me, Potter. You were always supposed to despise me.”//…It’s me…//“Not better; easier,” Harry said firmly, his eyes turning a sad shade of jade-green; a color Draco had never seen in his gaze before—nor would he still, because Draco still would not look at him. “I refuse to blame the Horcrux Scar. It is irresponsible. And if it is the reason we came together, than I am grateful for it.”“Why?”Do you love him? Do you love him? Do you love him?Harry swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “Because I love you; and love is not a science.” Harry watched Draco’s back go completely rigid and felt his heart clench painfully. “I can love you past your pain, I can help you understand; but you have to let me.”//… Can’t you see?..//Then, before Draco could turn around and reject him, spouting anymore Pureblood nonsense about duty and dignity and the abject cruelty of their compassion, Harry turned on his heel and left the Suite. Draco stared wide-eyed at the simulated landscape, his very breath vanishing from his lungs, his heart pounding in his chest. “Don’t go,” Draco whispered after he heard the door slam shut, feeling Harry’s absence like a punch in the stomach. “Don’t go.”Draco closed his eyes. “I didn’t mean it.”~~Lyrics from song “Losing My Religion” covered by Tori Amos. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~Weep Not for the Memories~ //…I will remember you, will you remember me?..…Don’t let your life pass you by……Weep not for the memories…//The Ministry of Magic; Conference Room B67. The next morning…**Harry shuffled through the documents in Malfoy’s file as Ron scribbled notes on the board behind him. They were preparing for a thorough briefing with all those involved with the Malfoy Case due to the impending ‘exorcism’ and it would begin in twenty minutes. Everyone was outside in the hall as they waited for the Head Aurors to be ready for them. Harry picked up a charmed photo containing a sleeping Draco Malfoy resting in St. Mungo’s. His hair was wild and he looked incredibly unkempt. This photo was taken soon after the Eve Battle when the Malfoy heir had defeated Voldemort. Harry took a deep breath and set it down for another photograph. This one was taken by a Muggle; and the only thing he could really see were a batch of squad cars surround the train station on Willow St.~~ Draco leaned against the wall and cleared his throat. “I suppose we’re even then.” Immediately, Harry’s eyes shot open and his head jerked up. Harry blinked a few times before his green eyes focused on the figure before him and Draco smirked, making sure to keep the lines around his curling lip hard and minutely bemused. “What?” Harry managed finally. “I saved your life, you saved mine; we’re square,” Draco answered calmly. ~~Harry set down the photo and put his head in his hands. “You alright, mate?” Ron asked, glancing over his shoulder.“I’m fine.”~~ Draco drew his brows together. “I was talking about your comeback, you ponce. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You’re even less Gryffindor than I am.” Harry was immediately on his feet. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? And what the hell makes you think you know anything about me?” Draco slowly, deliberately raised his hand to his forehead and tapped the lightening bolt scar with his forefinger. Harry’s eyes followed the movement and he unconsciously chewed on his lower lip as he gazed at the scar that used to belong on his skin. “It bloody hurts when you feel like shite, Potter,” Draco murmured. “Do us a favor and suck it up, you pansy.” Draco paused. Then, “Was it like this with you and Voldemort?” Harry shook his head slowly. “Not really. I hated him; the pain was more violent.” Draco snorted. “And what makes you think I don’t hate you?” Harry gave him a long-suffering look. ~~“Harry.”Harry blinked at Ron, suddenly coming back to the present. “Hm?”Ron gave him a concerned look. “Are you still vexed about yesterday?”Harry shrugged. “No, not really.”“Then what’s with you?”Harry looked away and, instead of answering, said: “We’re going to need more man-power than we originally thought to keep out the press. Now that the case is public, we’ll need to set up a perimeter of security. We’ll also need to condense the exorcism safely to protect outsiders and to cage Maul should he attempt an escape.” Harry pulled out a map and pointed to the area where they were planning to perform the exorcism and circled the X’ed spot. “We’ll need to ascertain a definitive radius. What’s the protective dome shield the Quidditch World Cup uses?”“Heroth told me you went to Malfoy last night,” Ron continued, peering at the map and marking the coordinates on the board. “He said he didn’t think it went very well.”Harry gripped the map tighter than necessary but continued to ignore his partner. “I think we should have Luna write a paper that misleads the populace to another location. That should help our security at least a little.”~~ “Don’t kid yourself, Potter. I will always be a Muggle-hating Malfoy and if you don’t hate me now, you will eventually. Isn’t that the game we play?” “No,” Harry said softly, placing his hands flat against the wood of the table. “What have we given, Malfoy?” Draco went very still. “My friend, blood shaking my heart,” Harry continued as Draco slowly turned and stared at him. “The awful daring of a moment’s surrender…which an age of prudence can never retract—“ “By this, and this only, we have existed,” Draco finished for him, his voice as icy as his eyes. “You sneaky bastard, you found my Pensieve.” ~~“What happened, Harry?” Ron persisted. “I know this depressed look. It took you months to smile after Ginny—““Actually, Ron, I’d rather not talk about it,” Harry snapped, pushing the map away in disgust and turning to glare at him. Ron searched his gaze. Suddenly, his eyes widened. “Oh, no. You told him, didn’t you?”~~ “It’s all very touching, really.” “What is?” Harry asked, not bothering to look up. “Your utterly noble concern for my welfare.” It was Harry’s turn to smirk as he turned towards Draco. “You are nothing but a job to me, Malfoy; never forget that.” ~~Harry looked away. “We’ll need to ask Alt if the Markaghirelle will effect the exorcism.”“Oh, Merlin…” Ron looked even more concerned. “You really did fall for him, didn’t you?”Harry gave Ron a pained look. “Ron, please drop it, okay? Let’s just get this over with.” Harry turned back to the file on the desk and began arranging everything neatly. Ron bit his lip as his partner looked away, worried, more than ever, about his friends fragile heart. Harry was strong, noble, and brave, but his heart had been shattered too often. Too much heartache can turn a man bitter. Harry closed his eyes. ~~ “What’s this?” Harry asked, eyeing the plate of butter pasta, chicken, and peas. Draco raised a bemused brow. “Most cultures call it food.” Harry stared incredulously at Draco, tossing his head to the side to dispel a stray lock of jet-black hair from his eyes. “I didn’t know you could cook.” Draco frowned and bent to take the plate away. “No!” Harry said immediately, grabbing the plate covetously. “I didn’t mean…well…What’s in it?” “Arsenic,” Draco replied, stone-faced. ~~//…Remember the good times we had?..…I let them slip away when things got bad…//Harry smiled slightly and opened his eyes. He took in a deep breath. “It’s time. Let them in.”Minister Scrimgeour entered first, followed by Mary Heart. Hermione Granger escorted Father Alt and a pair of Aurors escorted Maximus Cure. Draco’s guard—except the four currently on duty—filed in after them. Blaise came in last, trailing behind Trisha Knockwood and Luna Lovegood. From his seat, Harry narrowed his eyes on Blaise Zabini. “Zabini, you presence in this room is inappropriate. Please excuse yourself.”Zabini frowned. “I have been cleared.”“That may be so,” Harry said calmly, lifting his chin. “And I am grateful to you for your timely confession. However, you did, in fact, withhold information from the authorities on this case and are responsible for Draco Malfoy’s Death Warrant. I believe you may have genuine intentions and, yes, you have helped us in the past.” Harry paused. “But I do not trust you,” Harry finished matter-of-factly. Zabini glared at the Auror despite seeming resigned to the fact that he would no longer take a primary role in the rest of Draco Malfoy’s Case…for now. Blaise Zabini was no fool; he had expected this. “Don’t fuck this up, Potter.”“I won’t.”Zabini left quietly. Harry sent Heroth to follow him. The Minister gazed at the Head Auror approvingly. “Well done.”Harry stood and nodded to the Minister. “Please be seated. Let’s begin.”Harry turned to the board, marker in hand, and paused before beginning his lecture. ~~ “You want to know some truth about purebloods, Potter?” Draco asked quietly, suddenly stalking towards Harry with quick strides. Harry barely had time to blink before Draco reeled back his arm and slammed his fist into Harry’s jaw. Harry’s head snapped back and immediately his magic charged up around him. Harry automatically reacted by burying his fist into Draco’s gut. Draco grunted and jabbed his elbow into Harry’s face. With a shout, Harry swung hard; trying to land a punch to the side of Draco’s face, but Draco grabbed the flying wrist and stepped inside the swing, pressing his lips against Harry’s. ~~Harry shook his head, attempting to clear his head of his brain’s apparent need to concentrate on Draco Malfoy.Harry then underlined the word “exorcism” on the board and turned to those seated before him. “Father Alt, if you please.”Alt stood and made his way to the front. He eyed the notes on the board before turning to those assembled. He explained what he had told Draco, saying that Maul could not be killed by mortal hands, but he could be cast back to hell. The Roman Ritual of Exorcism would draw out the Black Tulpa while the Inversion Enchantratem forced Malfoy’s magic outside of his body. Harry would then need to move inside Malfoy’s sphere of energy and face Maul. Once weakened by the Sword of Godric Gryffindor, Harry would then need to remove Maul from Malfoy’s sphere and Alt would bind the Tulpa, casting it back to the depths with the holy rites. Harry frowned. “You plan to perform the exorcism?”~~ When Harry stirred and slowly opened his eyes, Draco glanced over at him with a perfect, pureblood smirk. “I cannot possibly be expected to believe that that chair is more comfortable than my bed,” Draco drawled. Harry looked down at Draco’s robe that covered him and a small smile graced his lips. “How incredibly sweet of you, Malfoy,” Harry remarked, almost cynically…but not quite. “Oxymoronic,” Draco said with a shake of his head. “Malfoy’s are never sweet.” ~~Alt nodded. “It is Malfoy’s wish, Zauberer.”Harry laughed bitterly and rolled his eyes. “Of course Malfoy would want a man convicted of negligent homicide to perform his exorcism. Of course.”Alt looked strangely at him. “Ich vergebe dir.”“I didn’t ask for your forgiveness, priest,” Harry snapped. Alt nodded, conceding the point. “Sometimes it is good to forgive even if it is not requested.”Harry paused. ~~Feeling foolish, Harry shook his head and made to stand up, unnerved by the intensity of those sharp, gray eyes. Draco reached out and pulled him back down, his mouth curling into a bemused smile. “It’s early yet,” Draco murmured, the boldness in his eyes becoming more pronounced. “I was just thinking about how you were awake and still here. That’s all.” ~~Trisha Knockwood inquired about Alt’s reference to Maul as a demon and Alt explained that, in his faith, demons are fallen angels. In his opinion, angels are condensed energy and, therefore, Tulpa. As they all considered this, Alt took his seat and Ron stood to explain their plans for security. Harry sat, his mind wandering as Alt’s words rang in his ears. ~~ “Trust me,” Harry whispered against Draco’s mouth. Draco wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck and pressed his forehead against Harry’s sweat-dampened brow. “I’ve never trusted anyone.” “Trust me,” Harry repeated, feeling the magic between them become more energized and spike in red and white bolts of electricity around them. Draco closed his eyes and nodded. ~~Luna Lovegood agreed to write the paper, thinking it was a good idea. Hermione Granger was looking strangely at Harry.~~Harry shot him a single baleful look before resuming his glower in the direction they were headed. Pursing his lips, Draco leaned forward on his broom and twisted upside down, edging over until he was flying directly beneath Harry. “Look, Potter,” Draco said slyly, carefully locking his ankles around his broom and releasing his hands from the neck of the broom until he dangled beneath Harry, upside down, by his knees. “No hands.” “Knock it off, Malfoy,” Harry muttered, trying not to grin. Truly, it was probably the funniest thing he had ever seen Draco do. “Race me,” Draco demanded, pulling himself up and twisting again so that he flew parallel to Harry’s broom. Below them, the city began to shrink smaller and smaller and the clouds darted between them. Harry snorted. “It won’t be much of a race.” Draco sighed. “All right, I’ll be fair. You can have a head start.” “Please; you haven’t flown in nearly three years.” “Natural talent never dies, Potter.” Harry laughed, feeling his terrible mood begin to recede. “You’re such a prat. Try to keep up.” ~~//…How clearly I first saw you smiling' in the sun……I want to feel your warmth upon me……I want to be the one…//Harry felt his chest constrict painfully and did his best to focus on the briefing. Hermione continued to stare at him. Anin and Mackle where going over security plans, being charged with its completion. Maximus Cure stated that the Inversion Enchantratem would be finished by tomorrow evening. Alt affirmed that the Markaghirelle would negatively affect the Roman Ritual. They decided to take Malfoy off of the potion the morning of the exorcism and conduct the ceremony at sunset. ~~Harry watched for a few minutes, wondering why Draco, of all people, was not using magic for the grizzly task at hand. At one point, while Draco continued to labor silently over his father’s grave, Harry turned to retrace his steps to the shed, fairly certain that there was another shovel in there somewhere. Behind him, Draco shoved his tool into the dirt again and read Harry’s thoughts. “No, Harry. This is something I need to do alone.” Harry turned back and watched the blond Slytherin resume his task. “Why won’t you use magic? You weren’t exactly built for hard labor.” Harry wasn’t sure what had made him say something cruel but Draco seemed to shrug it off with a harsh laugh, pulling another clump of dirt from atop his father’s grave. “If you had been in China with me,” Draco murmured, grunting softly as he shoved and heaved pile of dirt after pile of dirt, “you would not say such things.” ~~They decided to schedule the exorcism for two days from now.; which left three days before the finalty of Scrimgeour’s prior thirty day time frame. The Minister cleared his throat. “If the exorcism should fail—“~~ “I hate this,” Harry muttered for the third time that night, making to move past Draco towards the door. Draco grabbed his arm and pushed Harry against the wall, pinning him there with his own body. “You bought us some time, Harry,” Draco whispered, his lips pressed against his ear. “Let’s use it…we may not have another chance.” ~~//…I will remember you……Will you remember me?..…Don’t let your life pass you by……Weep not for the memories…//Harry slammed his fist on the table, causing everyone in the room to jump in surprise. “Should I hear the word ‘if’ one more time, so help me Merlin, I will personally remove the person saying it from this case indefinitely.”“Mr. Potter!” Scrimgeour began, affronted.“This requires all involved to be utterly devoted and completely committed,” Harry continued, his eyes flashing passionately. “Should there be anyone walking out on that field two days from now thinking this will fail, assuming that Maul will get out, or Draco or I will die, it would screw up the entire operation. Cure will complete the Inversion Enchantratem tomorrow. I will march into Malfoy’s magic and ram the Sword of Godric Gryffindor through Maul’s black heart. Alt will perform the exorcism and cast this thing back to Hell where it belongs. No one will die and that includes Draco Malfoy and myself. Am. I. Clear?”Minister Scrimgeour regarded Harry Potter thoughtfully and tilted his head to one side. “Transparently.”A knock sounded at the door and Snape let himself in. He bent to whisper something in Hermione’s ear. She rose and stepped out into the hall with Snape. Moments later, they returned. “Harry,” Hermione said, wringing her hands. “Malfoy’s refusing to take the Markaghirelle.”“What?” Harry snapped irritably. “Merlin! Fine; I’ll hold the little bastard down and force it down his throat, so help me God…” Harry rose and stormed out into the hall, Severus Snape trailing behind him. Hermione stopped Ron from following, shaking her head at her fiancée. “They need to work this out,” she whispered to him, keeping her voice low so no one else could hear. “Harry can’t do this thing all distracted like he is.”Ron nodded, his eyes widening as he realized Hermione and Snape had just lied to Harry to get him to go to Draco. “He’s really worked up,” Ron agreed. “Can you finish the briefing without him?” “Yeah,” Ron said, making his way to front of the room again. “Alright, people…”~~The Minister’s Suite…**Draco sat on his bed, staring off into space and hating, for the hundredth time, the aftertaste of the Markaghirelle. It had been a good plan. But it had backfired. Sure, he had managed to get Harry off the hook and back to his duties as Head Auror. But Harry Potter was no fool, and Draco had underestimated him. The Auror had seen right through his ploy to distance himself. To try to make Harry think it would be alright if something went wrong, that it would be okay if Draco had to die in order for Harry to be able to save himself. Goddamn him and his insufferable pride. Why does he always have to be so sodding noble? ~~ "I'm filing a transfer today." "What?" Draco snapped, his eyes suddenly going wide and his casual demeanor slipping. "Why?" Harry swallowed and refused to look up. "Last night, I acted unprofessionally. There are well-equipped Aurors who can handle your case better than I." "You must be joking," Draco said, incredulous. "You’re going to run away? I thought heroes never ran away." "I'm no hero," Harry answered, his voice quiet. "I can survive against incredible odds, but that doesn't make me a hero. You need someone who will handle your case responsibly." "I'm not interested in having my case transferred, you coward," Draco hissed, suddenly angry. "It shouldn't matter what goes on here, Potter. It's only you and I." "What do you want from me?" "Really?" "Yes, really." "I want you to stop holding me in the past." Harry finally looked up at Draco, the vulnerability in his green eyes almost too much for Draco to bear. "When you stop holding me in the past," Draco continued, "things like last night won't seem so terrible. You and I both know this has nothing to do with me being your 'case'. " "I can't--" “You can’t, what?” Draco interrupted, clenching his fists. “Snog your old school rival? Get too close? Have a little goddamn fun? Let yourself believe I may not be as terrible as you once thought? What, Potter? I really want to understand this one, mate, because, frankly, I’m not the only enigma here!” ~~//… I’m so tired but I can’t sleep……Standing on the edge of something much too deep…//Draco blinked, the memory fading. Draco took a deep breath. Too much and not enough. It was never, ever enough. It would never be enough. Didn’t he get that?Draco knew, for bloody fact, that he could never make Harry happy. This whole charade was pointless. There was a reason he tried to push Harry away. There was a reason he orchestrated everything to look like they had all gone behind Harry’s back. He knew it would infuriate the Gryffindor Golden Boy. There was always a rhyme and reason to everything he did. Except, of course, falling for him. Draco could tell himself he allowed himself to get close to Harry Potter because he wanted to piss off Pure Blood circles until he was blue in the face. But loving the Auror sworn to protect him was something he chose into with no real plan in mind, with no real objective. In fact, he wasn’t even all that certain when it had happened. ~~Black shrouded Death Eaters could be seen only a few yards away from them, the Gatherer strolling lazily behind them all. Draco's eyes welled in frustration. "RAISE YOUR WAND!" he screamed. Harry shook his head and spread his hands wide. "I won't." "Harry!" The young Auror's name caught in his throat. "No." The cold chill of the impending dawn seemed to thicken as the Death Eaters came so close, one could see their evil grins. "What I'll become if you don't is so much worse than you killing me," Draco all but sobbed. "Please!" "We'll get through this another way," Harry whispered, his eyes full of that terrible kindness Dumbledore had looked at Draco with when the Headmaster explained that he wasn't a killer. Despite it all, he wasn't a killer. "Narcissa Malfoy, a martyr to your soul. And you, to mine. You know I can't do this thing. There must be another way." Draco choked on another sob trying to escape his throat as he heard his own words coming back to haunt him. And, like before, Draco was defeated by his own conscience. He felt it as his arm became unbearably heavy and lowered, seemingly of its own accord. Deja vu swamped at him and the only thing that kept him on his feet was the thought of whether or not a person could play martyr twice in one life. Draco didn't think so. He lowered his wand and stepped into Harry's embrace. ~~//… Its funny how we feel so much but cannot say a word……We are screaming inside but we can't be heard…//And what was even more frustrating, yesterday Harry Potter stood two feet away from him, telling him he loved him, and Draco couldn’t move a muscle. He couldn’t turn around and tell him he felt the same. Something inside of him was screaming to turn and go to him, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t see that look in Harry’s eyes. He couldn’t afford to hope. And then Harry was gone. Just like that. Draco just wanted the last memories he had of his life to be good ones. Last time, Draco died with nothing but grief, sadness, and hatred to look back on. This time, Draco wanted to see someone smiling at him when he felt his last breath escape his lungs. He wanted to hear laughter, and not that of an evil entity. He wanted to feel forgiven. ~~ Draco didn't answer as he dashed at his face with the back of one hand, irratibly wiping away his tears as if they were shameful. "I'm so sorry, Harry." Harry pressed his lips to Draco's brow before rising to his feet. "I'll get you out of here as soon as I can." Draco nodded and rose to sit on his cot. Harry crossed the room but paused at the door. "I know in my gut that Cruent's not worth your tears, Draco," Harry murmured. Draco raised his head, meeting Harry's gaze. "But it makes me feel better," Harry continued, "knowing you think he is. It means you're winning against this bastard Maul." "Does it?" Harry offered a faint, encouraging smile. "I think so." ~~//… I will remember you……Will you remember me?..…Don’t let your life pass you by……Weep not for the memories…//Harry Potter had given him that. Harry didn’t seem to need him to be someone else; the Auror seemed to be content with Draco just as he was. But he had gotten too close. Harry had fallen into the same trap. And now the blasted Gryffindor was going to be noble. //…I’m so afraid to love you, but more afraid to lose…//Now, Draco felt obligated to live, and he despised that. He felt obligated to try, and hated that even more. Why was it so much easier to give up?//…Clinging to a past that doesn’t let me choose…//The Slytherin pondered this for a few minutes, as he used to when he was isolated in the Chinese wilderness. Draco chewed on the inside of his cheek, coming to no conclusions. Perhaps it was just natural. Perhaps it was just natural for him. Perhaps not. //…Once there was a darkness, a deep and endless night…//Draco then thought of their brief moments of happiness at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, remembering the conversation he had had with Harry only a few days ago. Was it worth it to try? Definitely. //…You gave me everything you had, oh you gave me life…//Still, Harry was right. It scared the shit out of him. Suddenly, there was a loud bang near the front door and Draco could hear Harry angrily shouting his name. Frowning, Draco stood and went into the hall. “What is it?” Draco asked softly, seeing his godfather hovering near Harry’s shoulder. “Snape tells me you’re refusing to take the Markaghirelle,” Harry grated. “Why?”Draco looked past Harry and regarded his godfather, raising a silver brow. “Godfather?”Severus coughed and began heading back towards the door. “Snape, what is the meaning of this?” Harry demanded, whirling on his old Potions Master. Snape shrugged. “Reconcile.” With that, Snape took his leave, shutting the front door firmly behind him. Harry turned back to Draco. “I just took my morning dosage,” Draco said with a sigh.“I gathered,” Harry replied, not quite meeting his eyes. “I’ll go.”“Harry.”Harry froze. His heart always seems to forget its primary function whenever Draco said his name that way. Damn him. Draco took a step forward. //…Weep not for the memories……Weep not for the memories…//~~Lyrics from “Will You remember Me” by Sarah McLachlan ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~Dancing in the Rain~The Minister's Suite... **Draco took a step forward, his heart pounding in his chest. Harry’s face was guarded and he would not look at him. “You’ve been thinking a lot about us,” Harry said, keeping his gaze averted. It wasn’t a question, and they both knew it. “I have been too.”Draco paused, hating the sound in Harry’s voice. “Have you changed your mind?” Draco watched a muscle work in Harry’s jaw. “About what you said yesterday?”Harry stiffened. “You still don’t get it. My mind has nothing to do with what I said yesterday.”Draco slid his hands in his pockets and gazed at the far wall. Watching Harry refuse to look at him was too much. “I know.”“Do you?” Harry retorted shortly. “’ Responsibility, duty, dignity’,” Harry quoted. “’Fear makes you weak, anger makes you strong’…’everything else is weakness’…I don’t want to hear any more of your bullshit, Draco.”Draco lifted his chin, his grey eyes burning indignantly like fired coals. “I was trying to protect you.”“I told you once, Malfoy; I don’t need your protection,” Harry grated through clenched teeth. “That’s my job—““It won’t always be,” Draco interrupted without thinking what he was saying through. Draco hesitated. “Given that we survive this, my case will be closed, Auror. It won’t be your job anymore. Then what? We ride off into the sunset on a white horse? Give me a sodding break, Potter.”“I’ve never really been fond of horseback riding,” Harry remarked, still gazing off into someplace Draco couldn’t see. “You think we’re ‘absurd’, and it may be true, but there are stranger things than two people falling in love.”Draco’s breath caught in his throat and he felt every muscle in his body freeze. There was that word again. Love. Wô ài nî. I love you. Could he say it? Could he believe it? Is it worth it? Is it worth it to try? “I have a different understanding of things, Potter.” ~~ The noise was horrendous. Piercing grey eyes managed to tear themselves away from the bubbling, foul-smelling brew in the cauldron and glance irritably towards the window. It was freezing outside. And now it was raining. Why couldn’t it snow when it was cold like this? Why did it have to rain? Big, fat drops of water continued to pound the roof and walls of his charmed hut relentlessly. Taunting him, teasing him. Beckoning to him. ~~Harry snorted. Draco found he didn’t like it when he did that. It always meant the young Auror wasn’t taking him seriously. “My mother loved me,” Draco murmured, nearly choking on the word. “In her own way. But even she was cruel. She loved my father. She was blinded by it.”Something softened in Harry’s demeanor. “Love doesn’t always blind, Malfoy.”“I do not think that’s true,” Draco argued in a soft voice. “When I’m with you, all I can see is you. When you’re gone, you’re all I think about. I do not want to be molded by what I feel for you. I want to hold on to at least a little of myself.”“Did your mother change?” Harry asked, glancing at Draco out of the corner of his eye. Draco frowned. “If the rumors are true; no, I think not. It’s hard to say for sure, I was not alive back then.”Harry nodded and looked away again. “I’m not Lucius, Draco. I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you like your father hurt your mother.”“I know that.” Draco bit his lip and walked quietly into the kitchen, taking a seat at the table. After a moment, Harry did the same. “You said something yesterday that…I didn’t know before. You said that happiness doesn’t just happen to anybody. It’s something you have to choose into.” Draco paused, seeing Harry finally look up at him. Draco gazed at Harry for a long time before saying: “I didn’t know you could choose out of Slytherin until you did with the Sorting Hat. I was always taught that some things were just…as they were.” ~~ The hours dragged by, as they always did, one into the other. Minutes ticked by in a slow, monotonous drone, and still it poured. The rain drops hammered his hut, and he simmered in his frustration. He glared again towards the sound of rain. It rang in his ears, driving him mad. His hands shook as the they knotted the frayed ends of his robes, giving his split and raw fingers something to do as the cauldron continued to bubble and stew. Taunting, beckoning, ceaseless rain. The dreary world outside mirrored the color of his eyes. He wanted to go, but a splash of red petals against his mother’s cold, dead hands prevented him. He once enjoyed the rain. He once hoped for overcast skies and the angry roll of thunderheads. They used to match the turmoil in his soul, the need for cleansing, the want for change. Storms always seemed to leave rebirth and destruction simultaneously in its wake. But it had been raining that day too. And rain lost the excitement in him. It meant something different now. It meant grief and guilt and sworn vengeance. It meant unshed tears. It meant loss. Still, it rained. ~~Harry nodded slowly, thinking he understood; if just a little bit. “And at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place,” Draco continued, his voice scarcely more than a whisper, “I tried something new. I tried letting go and letting you in. Happiness seemed to come naturally, didn’t it?’Harry nodded again. “It always seemed so natural for you,” Draco murmured. “Natural to laugh, natural to joke, natural to befriend people. It wasn’t though, was it? The Scar was driving you mad. I saw the growing darkness in your eyes and the lengthening of time between your smiles, and I wondered if you were giving up. I wondered what it would take to make you smile. And then I convinced myself I didn’t care. I had bigger problems.”~~ He had to go out into it. He needed the Leerdog Root. It was time for the new ingredient. “Xiàn zài jî diân?” he muttered to himself, checking his time piece. He had been doing that a lot lately: Whispering to himself in the darkness, just to make sure he was still there. Just to make sure he wasn’t fading away.He couldn’t wait any longer. He had to go get it. It was still raining. Ceaseless, beckoning, very, very cold. A splash of red and his guts twisted in on themselves. A swirl of black, and his blood boiled with wrath. He stood, not bothering to dust off his pants. He had learned vanity got him nowhere here long ago. Besides, he would be cleansed soon enough. Scoured, and wet, and frozen. He had to go. He had to get it. If he failed now, there would be no point. ~~“I don’t want to be the reason you don’t smile, Harry,” Draco muttered brokenly, his voice catching in his throat. “But I cannot promise you I’ll make you happy.”“You can’t,” Harry said simply, his voice equally as quiet. “It’s something that I’ll have to choose into. It can be effortless, Draco. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”Effortless. Draco looked away. Nothing was effortless. ~~It was cold. His breath came out in white, cloudy gasps and freezing water bit at his exposed skin, clawing at his pores and driving the bitter chill down to his very core. He trudged through the mud, getting soaked with each step, and finally reached the spot. He shivered violently as he bent to collect the Leerdog Root and then forced himself to run back to the hut in time to place the plant into the cauldron. Inside the hut, it was warm. Inside the hut, it was dry. He watched with shrewd grey eyes as the Leerdog Root disappeared into the boiling brew and yearned to go back outside. The cold was calling to him. The rain wanted to kiss his flesh. The wind wanted to whisper something sacred to his soul. He glanced at the door. He must be mad.~~ Is it worth it to try? Is it worth it?Draco stared into Harry’s green eyes, the Auror's face no longer guarded, but open. There was an invitation there. Draco imagined Harry holding out his hand, though, really, he wasn’t. I love you. Why couldn’t he say it? What was wrong with him? Was he broken? Draco stood and turned away. ~~ He stood in the rain, shivering so violently he could barely breathe; his teeth chattering so hard his jaw hurt. He lifted his face to the weeping heavens and felt the wet, freezing rain pour over his face. He lifted his shoulders, letting his robes slip over his arms. He kicked off his shoes and felt the cold mud between his toes. Water snaked down his bared arms, washing over his scars, soaking through his tattered shirt. He was part of it now. He was enveloped by it. There was nothing separating him from the storm. It wasn’t as loud outside as it was inside. He felt the thunder rumble in his soul, he felt the lighting strike in his heart, and there was no difference between his own tears and the ones falling from the heavens. ~~Harry stood but did not go to him. He stood on the other side of the kitchen table and waited. Draco gazed at his hands. “I was never supposed to come back, Harry. I never thought I would get a second chance. I never really thought of it as a second chance until yesterday. Not really. I thought maybe I was living in some sort of strange, surreal dream. Maybe that’s why it’s easier to believe it wasn’t real.”Say it. Say it. Say it.Draco turned back around, his pale pointed face pallid against the feverish, vulnerable look in his eyes. “But it was real. I know that.” I won’t say I’m sorry. Not again.Say it. Say it. Say it. ~~ He began to move, spinning in the mud, in the rain, faster and faster. Heat warmed his blood, flooded his muscles. He twirled, around and around. He fell. Mud on his face, mud in his hair, mud everywhere. He stood up and began to spin again, flailing his arms wide, his eyes crazed, a smile beginning to curl his lips. He jumped, kicking his feet, spraying mud in every direction. He fell again. Pain shot through his shoulder and he groaned. He was slower to get up this time. He had to do this. Something was breaking. He finally got his feet under him ~~“It was real,” Draco repeated. Harry continued to wait. He wasn’t holding out his hand, but he may as well have been.Say it. Say it. Say it. Draco opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat. He tried again but closed his eyes. He struggled with some internal battle Harry could not help him with. Harry waited, holding his breath, his heart pounding in his chest. “Wô ài nî.” The foreign words escaped Draco’s pale lips in a ragged gasp. “It is worth it. Wô ài nî.” Harry didn’t speak Mandarin but it was enough. He was in front of Draco in three quick strides, pulling him roughly into his arms. Wô ài nî. I love you. ~~Spinning, faster and faster, he suddenly broke into a run. He stumbled, a laugh escape his throat. His pale hair was soaked and sticking to his face and neck, his clothes seemed to be painted on his body, and his feet felt like blocks of ice. He ran. He ran until his chest hurt from the freezing air he sucked into his lungs, he ran until his muscles burned from exhaustion, he ran until his mind swam from the cold. And then he ran some more. He laughed again, the sound free and unfettered. Something broke. Something shattered. He spun again, his arms flailing, rain and cold, and mud everywhere. He was the storm. He would leave rebirth and destruction in his wake. He was free. He laughed and laughed. He wasn’t mad. Not really. He was free. And very, very wet. He stumbled again and fell to his knees, laughing the entire way down. He laughed until he wasn’t cold anymore. He laughed until the noise in his soul subsided. He laughed until the clouds parted and the sun peeked through. Then, through the steam and fog, he made his way back to the hut. ~~Harry kissed him softly as Draco’s arms came up and wrapped around his neck. Harry sucked Draco’s lower lip into his mouth and nibbled on it with his teeth, slowly, carefully, before releasing it and kissing him again. He moved his mouth over Draco’s, his movements gentle and loving. His tongue caressed Draco’s, unpretentious and unhurried, carefully mapping out the cavern of Draco’s mouth. He brought his hands up to cup Draco’s face, fingers feather light on the Slytherin’s skin. Draco shivered under his touch, his eyes opening slightly to watch Harry as the Auror kissed him. Harry’s eyes were closed, his lashes a stark sweep of black against his cheeks. His features were relaxed and genuine. His dark messy hair framed his beautiful face and Draco was suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that bubbled up inside of him. This was different. This wasn’t like the way they had kissed before. Their Scar did not interfere. There was no spark of swirling magic. There was no binding tension. This was just them. This was their own passion, their own touch, their own need. And, Merlin help him, Draco liked it this way better. Harry moaned into his mouth as Draco began to return the kiss, brushing his own tongue up against Harry’s, dancing and battling for control. Their kiss deepened; Harry’s fingers dug into Draco’s hair, Draco clutched at Harry’s robes, trying to bring them closer together.Draco unpinned the collar of Harry’s robes and pushed them off his shoulders, moving his fingers lower to undue Harry’s pants as he panted under Harry’s talented mouth. He felt Harry smile against his lips and kiss him again as Harry began to return the favor. They undressed one another slowly, passion setting their blood afire, desire making their heads swim. Draco shivered as Harry traced one finger down his throat and over his collarbone. The hand traveled lower, twirling small, invisible patterns on the skin of Draco’s quivering abdominal muscles. The fingers brushed lightly against the bobbing head of Draco’s straining phallus. The blond Slytherin grabbed his hand, breaking away from the kiss, and led them both into the bedroom. Harry grinned and Draco froze, entranced. He had caused that smile. It was for him. Harry dipped his head for another slow kiss after closing the door, gently pushing Draco onto the large bed. Harry moved above him, pressing his own erection into Draco’s thigh, moaning as their bodies made contact. Harry shivered as Draco ran his fingers down his spine. Harry kissed his neck, his blood hot and racing through his veins. Harry traveled lower, leaving a trail of searing kisses on Draco’s pale throat and shoulder. Harry paused, listening to Draco’s breathing turn ragged beneath him. His own breath was coming in short gasps. Heat gathered in their groins as Harry shifted his hips, forcing their erect shafts to rub against one another. Draco’s eyes fluttered closed and he sucked in a sharp breath, the sensation from his aching cock shooting up his spine and spiking at the ends of his fingers and toes. Harry laid his cheek on Draco’s chest and traced one finger down his lover’s left arm, brushing his fingertips lightly over the scars on the inner part of his forearm. He gently lifted Draco’s arm and shifted his torso so he could press his lips against the scars. As Draco watched, unbidden tears pricked his eyes and he had to blink them away. Draco sat up, forcing Harry to prop himself up on his knees. Draco stared down at the Order of the Phoenix tattoo inked into the flesh of Harry’s chest. He had never dared to touch it before, thinking Harry wouldn’t like it. But he reached out and traced the stark black lines with his index finger. Their eyes met. Abruptly, their slow lovemaking shifted into passionate need. Draco grabbed the back of Harry’s neck and slammed their lips together, causing their teeth to clash painfully. Draco pulled Harry back down on top of him, pushing his hips into Harry’s. Harry growled into Draco’s mouth and rutted violently back against him. No magic sphere enveloped them. No Horcrux tension muted out their cries and buzzed loudly in their ears. They could hear very pant, feel every touch, taste every bead of sweat. Draco bit down on Harry’s lip, tasting blood. Harry slid his hands under Draco’s firm buttocks and squeezed tightly. Draco arched up, moaning, Harry gasped as another wave of pleasure swept through his limbs as their shafts pressed against one another. Draco reached between them and wrapped his fist around Harry’s hard cock, causing Harry to throw his head back as the friction sent skittering waves of sparks throughout his nerve endings. Harry pulled his hands back, gripping Draco’s hip with one hand. With the other, he scooped up the salty drops of precum that was beginning to gather on both their purpling heads with his fingers. He brought his hand up to his mouth, but Draco snatched his wrist and led Harry’s fingers into his own mouth. Draco rolled his tongue over the pads of Harry’s fingers, tasting their co-mingled fluids and soaking Harry’s fingers with his own saliva. Harry watched, open-mouthed and entranced, as Draco worked his lips over his fingers, feeling Draco’s silky tongue sliding over the digits of his hand, twirling and sucking. “Merlin, you’re good at that,” Harry breathed as he withdrew his hand from Draco’s mouth and lowered his soaked digits between them, lifting Draco’s hips with his other hand. Draco smirked and his eyes twinkled mischievously as he wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist. Harry pressed a slick finger against Draco’s puckered entrance, probing gently until the finger slid inside. Harry bent to recapture Draco’s mouth as he worked the finger inside, pulling it in and out until he could slip another finger in. Draco moaned into Harry’s mouth as Harry’s fingers worked inside of him, his own hand continuing to pump Harry’s phallus until Harry found it too hard to concentrate on what he was doing. Draco released his hold on Harry’s cock as the Auror began positioning himself above Draco’s stretched entrance. Harry pressed his lips against Draco’s temple as he entered his lover in one swift motion. “I love you,” Harry gasped into Draco hair. Draco clutched at Harry’s back, digging his fingers into the Auror’s flesh, the pain slowly easing into pleasure as Harry waited for the Slytherin to adjust. Finally relaxing, Draco tightened his legs around Harry’s waist, urging him to move. Draco pressed his mouth against the hollow of Harry’s throat, whispering "Wô ài nî" over and over as Harry pulled out until only his head was inside Draco, and then thrust back in. Harry dipped his head and kissed Draco’s already swollen lips fiercely, doing his best to keep his thrusting pace even and unhurried, despite the urge to slam into his lover until he cried out, until he could say those words in English. Harry reached between them and gripped Draco’s cock, pumping it in time with his hips, wanting Draco to feel what he was feeling as he moved inside of him. The tight heat that enveloped Harry’s cock quivered and Draco gasped when his lover's phallus found Draco’s prostate. Harry shifted so he could thrust into that spot every single time. Harry worked his mouth lower as Draco’s fingers tangled in his black locks. “Wô ài nî.” Harry’s mouth latched on to one hardened nipple. He sucked on the little nub, sunk his teeth into it, swirled his tongue around the nipple until his lover was moaning uncontrollably, his cock thrusting into that tight heat, his hand working his lover’s hard shaft. Draco gasped as he moved to the other nipple, Harry’s pace becoming faster and more erratic, the heat gathering storm clouds in their bellies. “Wô ài nî.” Harry growled, slamming harder into him. Draco cried out, seeing stars. “Wô ài nî!” Harry lifted his head and gazed down into Draco’s lidded-grey gaze as he labored above him. Terrible love shown in Harry’s pleasure-clouded eyes. Draco swallowed and bit his lip, desire, pleasure, and fear blurring his vision, sensations too many to name overwhelming him.The hand gripping Draco’s hip wrapped around his pale shoulders, and Harry drew him up and held him close. Harry pressed his face into Draco’s neck as he slammed roughly and quickly into Draco, whispering indiscernible words against his flesh. Draco clung to Harry’s back, crying out as he came, climactic pleasure shuddering through his body as cum sprayed between them and poured over Harry’s hand. Harry thrust twice more, his hips jerking violently, and he bit into Draco’s neck to keep from screaming as he shuddered through his own climax. Harry all but collapsed and Draco held him close. “I danced in the rain once,” Draco murmured much later, after they had descended from their climactic bliss and cleaned up. Harry’s head, which rested in the crook of Draco’s arm and shoulder, shifted as he peered up at Draco with disbelieving green eyes. “In the Tien Shen Pass.”“Really?”“Mmhmm. I’d always wanted to, but…well, it’s was never something a Malfoy would do. So I never did.” Draco glanced down at Harry and smiled. “I told Dumbledore once, about wanting to do something crazy like that.”“What did he say?”“He laughed in my face.”Harry loosed a laugh of pure delight, the sound deep and rich and completely unrestrained. Draco smiled again, cherishing the sound of it before continuing. “He laughed because he thought it was absurd that I thought it was absurd. I understood that after I had done it.”“How was it?”“How was what?”“Dancing in the rain?”Draco curled his lip. “Incredibly cold. And wet.”Harry laughed again. “I ended up getting really sick,” Draco went on to say. “There was fluid in my lungs, my throat was on fire, everything hurt like shite. And, Merlin, the headaches were murder. Eventually, I used the time-turner to go back to Dumbledore and ask him for medicine.”“I take it he gave it to you?”“Mmhmm.”Harry shifted, tossing a stray lock of jet-black hair from his eyes. “I miss him.”Draco closed his eyes so Harry couldn’t see the pain in them. “Me too.”They were quiet for a long time, drifting into the lull of beckoning sleep as the minutes ticked by. “Something broke inside of me that day,” Draco whispered into the gathering darkness, listening to the sound of Harry’s steady breathing, certain his lover had fallen asleep. “After all of this, I’d like to do it again.”Draco thought he could hear the sound of rain and smiled sleepily, dropping a kiss on top of Harry’s black locks. “Wô ài nî means I love you,” Draco murmured. “I know,” Harry whispered back. ~~ A/N:Wô ài nî "I love you" Mandarin. A Chinese dialect 'most likely' spoken in the Tien Shen Pass. Xiàn zài jî diân? "What time is it?" Mandarin. A Chinese dialect 'most likely' spoken in the Tien Shen Pass. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. A/N: The Latin in this chapter is choppy and a but awkward. In later chapters, all languages used have been translated by professionals and not myself, so the quality is undeniably better, lol. I will, at some point, come back and re-do the transliteration in this chapter. Until then, bear with me. Thanks! winks ~Remember Me This Way~The Minister’s Suite…**Fast becoming a creature of habit, Draco awoke precisely twenty minutes before Hermione Granger or his godfather would arrive to supervise his 6am dose of the Markaghirelle. Draco turned on his side, following the sound of Harry’s soft snoring, and smiled as he saw the young Auror sleeping peacefully beside him. The Wizard had disappeared for a few hours the day before, after they had rested, and returned shortly after Draco’s 10pm dose. When the clock had struck two o’clock in the morning, Harry had smiled cheekily at Severus when his godfather had come with the Markaghirelle, but offered no explanation for his presence and Severus, wisely, asked for none. The Auror-Guard, for their part, gave them no trouble. Draco wondered if they had ever really minded at all. But their opinion was their own and Draco would never ask them to share it. They had made love twice more during their stolen hours together, played Wizard’s Chess, and talked long into the night. Draco watched Harry sleep, careful not to touch him lest he wake him, and once again marveled at how perfectly harmless he seemed when he slept. He was gloriously nude, lips parted, features relaxed, head propped on one folded arm and the other flung out…and that awful noise coming from his nostrils. Strangely, the snoring didn’t really bother him. It was just another little Harry Potter oddity that came with the wonder of him sleeping in his bed. Draco’s lips twisted into a sneer. Well, not his bed, Minister Scrimgeour’s bed. But, close enough. Draco would take what he could get. Just one more day and everything would be over. And then what?Harry had once told him that he had his own flat in London and that he didn’t like residing in Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Draco was barely thrilled about the idea of returning to Malfoy Manor. He did give the Manor to Molly Weasley in his Will…but that hardly counted because Draco was still alive. Also, he knew the Weasley’s would be even less comfortable living in Malfoy Manor than he was. Draco frowned. Perhaps he could sell the Manor, give a percent of the liquidated funds to Molly Weasley, and use the rest to buy a new home; somewhere he and Harry could start fresh. Draco liked that idea. The Library would still go to Hermione Granger. Draco would call it a wedding present. Though, the former Slytherin had never bothered to ask when the wedding was scheduled, he was certain Harry would know. His godfather would always want for nothing. Draco was certain of that. Draco Malfoy would always have money, even without the Manor, and Severus Snape would have full access to those funds…whether Draco died tomorrow or no. Draco had arranged that long ago. Draco Malfoy would be expected to re-introduce himself into pureblood Society. There would be no escaping that necessary evil. He was a natural born Socialite. The Parkinson’s would support him, to whatever end. The rest would be left to chance, Draco supposed. Choosing to be happy, choosing to be content…ah, well. It should be interesting. Draco sat up, the clock on the far wall signaling only a minute until six o’clock, and put on his robe. He wandered out into the hall, ready to greet his visitor bearing the Markaghirelle, and found it was Hermione Granger waiting for him in the entryway of the foyer. “Good morning, Malfoy,” Hermione said, handing him the vial of the Markaghirelle. “Is Harry here?” Draco tossed back the potion and handed her the empty vial when he was finished. “He’s sleeping,” Draco answered pointedly.Hermione chewed on the inside of her cheek, blushing to the roots of her bushy hair. “Oh. Well, um, I need to speak to him.”“About what?”“About how we should transport you to the Dome once you’ve stopped taking the Markaghirelle,” Hermione answered, impatiently tapping her foot. Draco narrowed his sharp grey eyes. “What?”“Portkey,” Harry informed Hermione, coming up behind Draco with nothing but a sheet wrapped around his waist. Harry rubbed at his eyes. “I thought we covered that one.”If it was even possible, and Draco supposed it had to be, Hermione turned even redder as she beheld the obviously naked-under-the-sheet Harry Potter. Despite her discomfort, Hermione responded evenly. “You may have, but Ron couldn’t remember and Anin was asking about the danger of letting Malfoy Apparate while the Markaghirelle was wearing off.”“WHAT?”“Yes,” Harry agreed, running his hand through his hair and rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s why we decided on the Portkey. Ron and I went over this yesterday. Four Aurors wait for Draco inside the Dome, Draco arrives by Portkey, and then the remainder of the guard Disapparate after that. It’s full proof. Must I do everything?”“You and Ron went over a lot of things yesterday,” Hermione retorted, defending her fiancée. “I was asked to double check.”Harry’s eyes softened a bit. “Yeah. I’m sorry ‘Mione. You know I’m a grouch first thing in the morning.”Hermione nodded. Draco Malfoy looked wildly between them. “No…” Draco breathed as he started to piece together what they were planning. “Oh, no. You’re out of your mind.”Harry glanced at his lover. “We’re taking every precaution.”“You’re taking me off the Markaghirelle?” Draco asked. “Are you daft?”“Alt said it would interfere with the exorcism,” Hermione said. “And Cure claimed it might affect the Inversion Enchantratem,” Harry added. “When?” Draco demanded, his face the perfect mask of fury. Unfazed, Harry scratched under his chin. “Your last dose will be tomorrow morning at two. It’ll wear off around six and then we’ll transport you to the Dome where we’ll give you the Inversion Enchantratem and wait for it to take effect. Cure’s calculated it to start working some twelve hours later.”“When were you planning on telling me?” Draco grated, his grey eyes flashing dangerously. “This morning,” Harry replied with a helpless grin. “Twelve full hours of an unrestrained, pissed off Black Tulpa roiling in my belly,” Draco said slowly, his voice a deadly quiet. “Have you prepared for the Plagues?”Harry exchanged a glance with Hermione. “Yes. Last time it was just frogs and flies, Draco—““And locusts,” Hermione interjected. She had been there. She knew. “Last time, Maul was under the Markaghirelle,” Draco growled, fear beginning to burn in his chest. “There are ten plagues, Harry. Ten of them. Fire will fall from the sky. Livestock will die. Boils and lice and then the worst: The death of the first born.” Draco glared at the both of them. “All three of us are firstborn.”Hermione bit her lip. “I hardly expect Maul would kill his own Host.”“You do not know him as well as I do,” Draco snapped darkly. Harry placed a hand on Draco’s shoulder. “We’ve prepared, Draco. Whatever Maul can dish out will be restrained to the interior of the Dome. Alt will be unaffected; he is protected by his God. If it becomes too much for the Aurors, they will leave the Dome. If it comes to that, it will be just you and me and the priest. Trust me.” Trust me. I’ve never trusted anyone. Trust me. …Alright. Draco shrugged off Harry’s hand and sighed, rubbing his hands over his pale, pointed face. “Fine.” Then he left them staring after him as he went back into the bedroom. A few minutes later, Harry rejoined him, closing the door gently behind him. Draco sat at the desk, reading a book by the Squib poet T.S. Eliot.Recognizing the book, Harry said: “The awful daring of a moment’s surrender.”Draco closed the book and set it back on the table. “By this, and this only, we have existed.”Harry approached the pale wizard and wrapped his arms around him, holding him gently. “Draco…”“How many?”“Hm?” “How many people will be in this Dome?”“I don’t know the exact number. Two dozen? Maybe more.”Draco closed his eyes. “That’s a lot of people Maul could hurt wearing my face, Harry.”Harry rocked him lightly. “I know.”“Will Deans be there?”“No. He’ll stay in his cell at the Ministry.”“Good. He’ll be safe then. And Blaise?”“He left days ago. Heroth says he claimed asylum at the Parkinson’s.”“Good,” Draco repeated, leaning his head back on Harry’s shoulder as the Auror rocked him like he was a child.“Draco...” Harry placed two fingers under Draco’s chin, urging his face closer to his. Harry placed a soft kiss against Draco’s frowning mouth. He pulled away, if only just for a moment, and kissed him again, moving his mouth over Draco’s unhurriedly, gently, sweetly. However, the second Draco began kissing him back, a strange strangled noise growled in the back of Draco’s throat and blond man pulled abruptly away, standing stiffly to his feet. “This isn’t something you can kiss away, Harry,” Draco said, beginning to stroll towards the closet to pull on some decent clothes. Harry made an exasperated sound and lunged forward, bringing the flat of his hand to land smartly on the Draco’s rear. “Would you lighten up?”Draco whirled around, his face incredulous, his eyes blazing. “Did you just…smack my arse?”Harry cringed, second-guessing himself. “Ye-yes?”Draco rolled his eyes skyward, muttering “Griffindors” mutinously under his breath before turning, once again, and disappearing into the massive bowels of the Suite’s walk-in closet. When he re-emerged, some five minutes later, he was fully dressed in a simple black turtleneck and dark slacks. Following the sound of Harry fixing himself something for breakfast, Draco snuck into the kitchen and…smack!One hand instinctually clutching his wand, and the other rubbing his now-sore bottom, Harry stared wildly at a laughing-eyed, grinning, Draco Malfoy. “What the fuck, Draco?”~~The hours passed swiftly, too swiftly for either of their liking. The morning was pleasant, the two young Wizards exchanging time-less insults until they were sure their snark was back in full swing. Harry could hardly keep a straight face through most of it, his mind more on jumping Draco’s bones, than the verbal task at hand. As afternoon faded into evening, their smiles began to be forced, and their conversations crumbled into ever-too polite ones, and Harry grew apprehensive as the silence between them tensed from Draco ever-glum perspectives of the grimly task scheduled on the morrow. After, Harry had finished supper, he joined Draco in the living room, who was more glowering at the book in his hand than reading it. Harry sat on an opposing sofa and sighed. “Talk to me, Draco,” Harry said. The simple words hung in the air between them as Draco dragged his eyes from the pages of his book to Harry’s face. Hundreds of things seemed to pass behind Draco’s cold, grey eyes all at once. Draco gazed at his lover, imagining the sound of wind and rain. The awful cackle of surrounding Death Eaters. The raspy laugh of Lord Voldemort. The snort of disgust from his father. Draco remembered the doomed, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach the day he was told he had been exiled. Run away, Draco. It is, after all, what you are best at. Exile. He had run. He had. Bringing books on potion-making, copies of authentic genealogies, a Pensieve, a cauldron, a Time-Turner, and a wild plan with him. He ran. To a place where no one could find him. To a place where no one spoke his language or knew who he was. His blood pumped battery acid, thick with grief. His mind churned with vengeance and his very breath came out in wrathful gasps. The local villagers would not meet his eyes. They were a superstitious lot and knew better than to cross the powerful-seeming foreigner. The Tien Shen Pass. The home of the Leer Dog Root. Blinded by fury, nauseated with grief, nourishing himself with hate, Draco set himself in to do the one task that would exact his revenge. He was alone. He had never before been alone. Days had dragged into even more days. His nails became cracked and dirty, his hair grew long and wild. His only consolation was that this would be the one time he chose. This would be his one good thing. Dumbledore, Draco thought, had saved his sanity during those long years. He had faced his worst fear, and approached the Headmaster to inform him of his fate. And he went back, again and again, until they no longer needed to talk to pass the time. Until the silence was no longer uncomfortable and Draco was content just to be in someone else’s presence. He had dedicated years to a cause. And now, after it was finished, after it was through, he had to invest his very freedom for another. His soul was his own. One could exile him, force his father to murder his mother, take his freedom, slander his name, take his very life…but no one could ever take his soul. Maul could not have it, Draco decided. No matter what. His soul was his own. Draco had given enough. Draco Malfoy had had enough.“No matter what happens tomorrow, Harry,” Draco said, leaning forward, his eyes suddenly blazing with the severity of his words. “No matter how Maul makes me seem, remember me this way. Remember Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, remember the boy who tormented you to make himself feel better, remember the prat you never liked but managed fall in love with; but whatever you do, don’t you believe He’s me.”“Not for a minute,” Harry promised solemnly. ~~At two in the morning, after Hermione Granger had come and gone with Draco’s last dosage of the Markaghirelle, Harry and Draco settled in for the night. Harry was resolved to stay awake until dawn and Draco was content to just be held by his Auror as he attempted snatch a few hours of sleep. Harry wrapped his arms loosely around the Malfoy heir, giving him time to get comfortable, before tightening his embrace. Harry thought of what Draco had said earlier as the heady scent of Draco’s hair filled his nostrils and their long, steady breaths became the only sound he heard. Remember me this way. Don’t you believe He’s me.Harry held him until the hour struck four, his lids becoming heavy, and then decided that most of the danger had passed. Maul usually struck the hardest during three in the morning, the infamous Witching Hour. He allowed his eyes to close, deciding it wouldn’t hurt to just rest his lids for a moment.~~ Maul smiled, those new, wonderful, pale lips stretching to accommodate him. The black-haired man—Harry, his name was; Harry Potter—had finally fallen asleep. Patience had never been one of Maul’s outstanding virtues. In fact, Maul was fairly certain he had no virtues. His first instinct was to turn around, wrap his long fingers back around that slender neck of his, and throttle the life out of the Eighth Key. However, Maul knew how to be cruel, and he knew what would be a worse death for his Host’s lover. Maul longed to see the hurt and betrayal in the Eighth Key’s long-lashed, green eyes. To see him hesitate before striking the telling blow. To see him tremble in fear and helplessness. So, Maul decided to bide his time, to wait for him to fall into a dreamless sleep. He knew the best way. He could wait. And now, the Eighth Key was sleeping, harmlessly, beside him. Maul shifted in his Host’s body, getting a feel for those fingers and toes, those long limbs and quick muscles. Feeling he was ready, Maul, fast as lightning, twisted in the Eighth Key’s arms, reached out with one slender hand, and grabbed the back of his neck, shoving his face into the pillow. Maul laughed as the Eight Key struggled beneath him and used his legs to flip the body fully on his stomach. The Eighth Key let out a wild roar, muffled by the pillow smashed into his face, and reached out his hand. Maul felt the crackle of wandless magic as the Eighth Key attempted to Accio his wand. Maul laughed, swatting away the wand and allowing it to scatter harmlessly onto the ground. Maul pressed his Host’s legs between the Eighth Key's, grabbing the man’s hip and lifting it so his bottom stuck enticingly in the air. The Eighth Key stilled for a moment before thrashing violently. Maul could taste his panic. Maul laughed, rubbing his fingers roughly over the plump cheeks. He leaned in close to the Eighth Key’s ear and whispered: “Vos suscipio intellego.” The Eighth Key shouted, pushing himself up with his forearms. The Host fought against him too. There was a spark of resilience against His hold on the body and the Eighth Key managed to flip himself over. The Eighth Key’s eyes widened when he saw the face He was wearing and Maul laughed again. “Operor non nixor,”Maul said, smiling savagely. “Is est nusquam ut rape of suus animus! Operor vos non volo intellego?” Maul laughed again, the sound horrible and unmistakably evil. Maul’s smile faded, feeling the Host slam against him, over and over, in his valiant attempt to push him back and reclaim his body. Maul grabbed the Eighth Key’s throat, squeezing harder as his hands came up to claw at His hand. Maul watched his eyes bulge and his face change color before he leaned in, once again, so close that His hot breath dusted across the Eighth Key’s noble cheek. “Duodeviginti Key, EGO mos attero vos! EGO mos eat suus animus! Quod EGO mos planto meus abdomen pinguis per desparo!!! EGO spendo vos.” Then, with a strangled noise, Maul receded. ~~Harry saw Draco’s eyes shift rapidly from black to grey and back again. Harry watched Draco begin to shudder violently and knew he had won. Harry reached out for him, but Draco looked between them, assessed their position, and he suddenly scrambled back, his hand flying to his mouth, and his eyes wide and terrified. “Oh, God,” Draco breathed. “Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God…”“It’s alright, Draco,” Harry whispered, reaching out. “He didn’t hurt me. You came back in time.”“Oh, God,” Draco breathed again, continuing his litany of shock. “Oh, God, oh, God…”Harry tried to pull him in an embrace, but Draco violently shoved him away. “Don’t touch me!” he shrieked. “Merlin, I nearly…I nearly…”“But you didn’t.”Hearing the commotion, Draco’s four-Auror guard was pounding on the bedroom door. “Is everything alright?” Nadger called. “We’re fine,” Harry called, keeping both eyes on Draco. “We’ll be out soon.”“Very good, sir.” Nadger called back. Harry stood and grabbed Draco’s robe, holding it out for him. “Draco…please…”Draco hesitated, but then let Harry put his robe on him and lead him to the bathroom, where the still-shivering Slytherin could collect himself and get dressed. Draco closed the door behind him, leaving Harry to stare around the room, his head still reeling from what had just happened. Maul had tried to rape him. Harry’s face darkened as he pulled his clothes on and retrieved his wand. Maul had tried to rape him using Draco’s body. Now, it was on. Now, it was personal. Remember me this way. Don’t you believe He’s me… Now, it was time. ~~ A/N:Vos suscipio intellego Latin “You begin to understand.” Operor non nixor. Is est nusquam ut rape of suus animus! Operor vos non volo intellego? Latin. “Do not struggle. This is nothing to the rape of HIS soul! Do you not want to understand?” Duodeviginti Key, EGO mos attero vos! EGO mos eat suus animus! Quod EGO mos planto meus abdomen pinguis per desparo!!! EGO spendo vos. Latin. “Eighth Key, I will destroy you! I will eat his soul! And I will make my belly fat with despair!!! I promise you.” A/n: Thank you, Bubba, for helping me give the "umph" to this chapter. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. A/N: A special heartfelt thank you to Manga Cat, Bubba, and George for helping me with translations and keys to certain parts of the Roman Ritual of Exorcism. Translations for Latin and German lines at the end of the chapter. ~Are You Ready to Make Your Confession?~ The wind howled angrily in his ears as Harry stared wildly at his partner, Ron, who was screaming something at him. "What?!" Harry shouted back, his arm straining under the pressure of his wand, where a spell was aiding the other Aurors to keep the worst of the Plagues towards the top of the Dome. Ron's lips parted again, forming words that were ripped from his freckled mouth the second he produced them. Ron grimaced, his extended arm twisting unnaturally under the pressure of his own wand as he flung out his other arm to gesture behind Harry. Harry turned, following Ron's pointing finger. A dark cloud of approaching Wizards and Witches, lead by Headmistress McGonagall, had reached the lake's border, and were flying swiftly towards the Dome on brooms. Harry charged up his wandless magic, allowing its raw energy to shield him from the flies and lice and locusts that threatened to overwhelm their task force, and pocketed his wand. He ran over to Anin, pulling at the man's collar so he could holler directly into the older man's ear. "Reinforcements are here! Keep them out of the Dome! Maul's radius is widening but he won't be able to reach the edge of the lake! The I.E. has thirty minutes! I repeat, thirty minutes! Have them control the outer perimeter from the Plagues until then!" Anin twisted in Harry's grip, glancing behind him as their reinforcements made their approach, and then back at Harry. "You're certain they'll disappear once the potion activates?!" Anin shouted. Harry looked up at the roof of the Dome, where the entire Auror's Division--and then some--had been working laboriously to keep the frogs, insects, fire and ice isolated. Outside the Dome, it was a different matter. Boils and lice attacked humans with a vengeance, livestock seemed to wither from the inside out, the day was black as a moonless night, lighting and hail crashed around them in a rainless storm, and parts of the lake were thick and red with blood...and it was spreading. And so too, the length of Maul's power. Maul. Harry looked with blazing eyes towards the center of the Dome where Draco stood amidst the swirling winds of raw and ancient power, his eyes wide, pitless pools of utter black. Harry tore his gaze away, finding, at last, Father Ernst Alt, who circled the perimeter like a lion stalking its prey, shouting prayers in an ancient tongue while clutching a small black book. His white priest's robes swirled around his bony frame, a purple stole whipping around his shoulders...and like he had predicted, the exorcist was unaffected by the plagues that Maul spat towards them. So then...Harry chewed on his lower lip as the wind hurled their robes around and fingered violently through their hair, screaming its passage in their ears. He glanced once back at Anin, nodding curtly. "Yes, I'm certain.""Very good, sir!" Anin affirmed before jerking at his amulet and exiting the Dome.Harry raised his wand again, adding to the restrictive pressure of the topmost part of the Dome, and spared a glare in Maul's direction. Maul, using Draco's lips, smiled cruelly. Harry knew that smile. Harry loved that smile. Rage burned in his chest as he tore his eyes away, once again, from Draco Malfoy's figure. Don't get used to it, Maul. In half an hour, you'll never know what it is to possess him again. I am going to rip your bloody heart out. ~~Eleven and a half hours prior...The Ministry of Magic...*Harry waited in the foyer with Draco's four-Auror guard--at the present: Anin, Heroth, Saith, and Marim--as the blond Slytherin used his last precious seconds of isolation to gather his nerve in the Minister's Suite. When the pale, pointed Wizard finally stepped out into the foyer, dressed, appropriately, all in black, Draco's face was the perfect mask of resolve. And dignity. But as Harry looked up into his lover's eyes, checking to make sure they were still that perfect, icy grey, something passed behind them and the young Auror knew better. Draco looked away first. What could Harry possibly say? What could either of them say? So, amidst a heavy silence, Anin and Heroth filed behind Harry Potter, then the soon-to-be-exorcised Draco Malfoy, and finally Saith and Marim behind him. Then, they stepped out into the hall. Ronald Weasley was waiting for them. Ron was supposed to be awaiting their arrival at the location of the Portkey, but, strangely, Harry took comfort in his best mate's presence and did not rebuke him. When all was said and done, Ron had good instincts on when to be at his partner's side and when to let be. Now, even though Harry was certain Ron couldn't possibly know exactly why, this was a definite moment when he needed his best mate's steady presence at his shoulder. Quietly, Ron stepped in beside Harry and the column made their way down the hall. Their steps seemed to drag and time seemed to slow; though, in Harry's mind's eye, everything around them seemed rush past them. Harry could hear his very breath like the loud hum of a car engine clanging through his head and every footstep seemed to ricochet off of the walls around them. And the only thing he could think of was the two, piercing grey eyes that bore into the back of his neck, burning holes into him. The Portkey was an oil lamp, placed inconspicuously on a seemingly random table in one seemingly unimportant hall near the Department of Mysteries. Luna Lovegood stood by the table, marking its spot. Her eyes were luminous but intensely grave and she seemed to shine like a slender beacon in the dark hall. Harry Potter remembered that look. Luna wore it many times during the war. Luna Lovegood was a dreamer...but she did not always dream. She knew when her world and everyone else's collided into a heavy moment of severity. This was one such moment. Harry took comfort in her presence too. She was looking past him, smiling gravely at Draco. Anin and Heroth parted before Draco, allowing him to step up to the Portkey. Without hesitating, Draco reached out one slender hand and laid his finger tips gently on the oil lamp. Luna nodded slowly and placed a hand on Draco's shoulder, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "The name of the game is 'Guilt'," Luna said in a voice so soft, even Draco could barely hear. "Nobility isn't about being better than others; it is about being better than you used to be. Do not play." A great deal of Draco's demeanor slipped, allowing him to look intensely shocked by Luna's words, and he favored her with wide eyes. Instantly, however, he regained his composure and Luna stepped away. She turned her grave smile on Harry and Ron, and the Head Aurors stepped up to touch the Portkey. After a slow minute, the world lurched around them and suddenly the three Wizards were spiraling down a whirling vacuum and dropped unceremoniously in the middle of...nowhere.Except, a great many Aurors were present. Hermione Granger and Severus Snape were there too. And so too was Minister Scrimgeour, Mary Heart, and Father Ernst Alt. Four Aurors stepped in close, surrounding Draco Malfoy as Harry and Ron left to speak to the Minister. Draco took in the faces of his guard, a part of him not wanting to recognize them, a bigger part needing to know who he might be responsible for. Mackle, Denon, Liv, and Viggo. Good men, sturdy men. Innocent men. Draco swallowed and looked around him, taking in the landscape and trying to figure out where he was. It was a vast valley of sorts, with a broad lake directly east of them and a fringe border of trees to the south and west. To the north, jagged rocks of a sloping mountain stretched up. However, the plain seemed to stretch for kilometers before reaching any of these. Draco's eyes wandered back towards the lake. He squinted. Was that--?"There's a what?" Harry suddenly shouted. Clenching his fists, Harry ran a hand roughly through his hair. "Can they be evacuated in time?" "It will draw too much attention," Hermione said, worrying at her lip and handing Harry the charmed medallion that would allow him to enter and exit the Dome at whim. "If anyone catches so much as a whiff of the Ministry removing Muggles from a remote area, Harry, you better believe Wizards and Witches will be swarming this area to get a glimpse of Malfoy." "Then we'll have a real problem," Ron muttered sarcastically, earning a withering glare from his fiancée. "The Dome will keep the operation hidden," the Minister said in an uncertain tone. Father alt shook his head. "If Maul is antagonized, he will wreak out his power. No Dome will restrict it under its roof...and even if you could construct one in time, it is unwise to bottle the Plagues into the sole area reserved for an exorcism."Harry gaped at him for a moment, wondering if the priest had just made an attempt at humor. Harry shook his head. "Fine. Fine, fine, fine. Ron, get someone--""Who?""Anyone to cast silence spells all around the perimeter..." Harry pulled out a map from his back pocket. "Here...and here; making sure that the Muggles in their resort remain oblivious. Priest, will Maul's power be one set radius, or will it slowly grow?""It will grow," Father Alt replied. "Maul will most likely wish to destroy the Dome, as it is designed to cage him after being expelled from Malfoy's body. But...His Gatherer was supposed to aid Him and failed...and He has been trapped under the Markaghirelle for a long time...He will become stronger as each of his Plagues are presented. I would suggest timing them."Harry chewed on the inside of his lip, staring hard at the exorcist. Ron looked between them. "I think it'd be best not to antagonize him, eh?"Harry and Alt slowly looked over at Ron. Ron raised his brows and looked back. Harry and Alt glanced at one another. "The Inversion Enchantratem will not begin to work for another twelve hours," Harry said, glancing over his shoulder at Draco who was listening closely amidst his four-Auror guard. "During that time, for what reasons would Maul be antagonized?"Alt regarded the young Auror with heavy eyes. "Other than His reading of His Host's thoughts and the mere presence of an exorcist nearby?"Harry nodded impatiently. "Yes."Father Alt thought for a moment. "The possessed must step into the grace of God."Harry's dark brows rose high on his forehead. "Sorry?"The old priest stepped up close to Harry, bending his head to speak directly into his ear. "According to my faith, I may not exorcise a non-believer. According to my faith, it is impossible to rid a demon from the body of a sinner. He must be forgiven by the grace of God before I can perform the holy ritual." "He's a Wizard!" Harry spat incredulously. "This I know, young magician," Father Alt replied, ever the patient one. "I will not ask that he convert to Catholicism...but I will request that he at least confess his sins to God. And if he is forgiven..." Alt shrugged. "We will see." "We will see what?""We will see if he is freed."Harry stared hard at the priest, his face scant inches from his own. "And this would antagonize Maul?" "Assuredly."Harry ran his hands blindly over his face as the priest stepped back but froze when he heard Draco's voice behind him: "I'll do it, priest. I'll confess."Everyone turned and the world seemed to come to a hush all around them. Draco lifted his chin. "I'll confess," he repeated. Dignity. Resolve. Harry looked into his eyes. Utter rubbish. The eastern sun began to peek over the horizon. Harry checked his watch. 6 a.m. It was time for Draco to take the Inversion Enchantratem. Draco watched with sad eyes as Harry's face took on a look he'd never seen on him before. The youthful light left his eyes, a strange hard line formed around his mouth, and the muscles in his back turned stiff and rigid as Harry began barking orders to those around him. In a flurry of motion, Aurors began taking formation around the inner and outer perimeters of the Dome--which, before this moment, had been invisible, but now had begun to turn an opaque-ish white--and Draco was ushered to its center. After a few minutes, Harry approached him with a small vial held in his right hand, his eyes downcast and hidden by the dark fringe of his messy hair. With a jerky movement of his arm, he offered the bottle to Draco. In a strange sense, even though they were surrounded by Aurors and Ministry officials--and even a priest--they felt like no one was there but them because every one else skirted the edge of the Dome, a full kilometer and a half radius. Draco took the bottle and drank from it, the liquid tasteless and odorless. He felt nothing. "Father Alt will not approach you until noon," Harry said in a soft voice, his eyes still averted. "In this way, we'll have a better chance of controlling the Plagues before the potion takes affect. Ten Plagues, six hours..." Harry's voice trailed off. Draco handed back the vial. "Well then.""Well then," Harry echoed. Harry had the most horrible feeling that there was something being left unsaid. As he snapped his fingers and Draco's guard came forward, Harry hoped that, in the next six hours, he would be able to figure out what it was. ~~For the first two hours, Draco remained on his feet at the center of his four-Auror guard in the middle of the Dome, watching with guarded eyes as Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley paced around the edge of the Dome, barking orders in commanding tones, casting protective spell, and checking to make sure all their plans were in order. At the beginning of the third hour, Draco began eyeing the grass at his feet, not exactly relishing in the idea of sitting on it and soiling the backside of his pants, but even less thrilled with the idea of standing at attention for the next four hours. By the fourth hour, Draco was seated on the grass and sneering. His look of utter discontent was directed mostly at himself. He was incredibly bored. The minutes that dragged by eroded his imminent fear as they passed and he found himself disappointed at the lack of excitement as this day of days wore on. Of course, Draco knew that if Harry had his way, the entire day would be like this. But, no; this was simply the calm before the storm. At the start of the fifth hour, Draco’s heart began to pound. Frowning, he scolded himself silently, willing his heart beat to slow. Hermione Granger and his godfather, Severus Snape, approached with a small vile, a potion of nutrients. Draco declined the offer, opting to fast instead. Because he offered no explanation and remained seated, they eventually went away. Now, the minutes were slipping by more quickly, and Draco had to force himself to be still lest he begin to squirm. Draco rested his hands on his knees and closed his eyes. He breathed in and out slowly, willing himself not to think, but just to feel. And then, almost instantly, it was noon. Draco’s eyes snapped open and the snake inside of him lifted its head, hissing a warning. Harry and the priest were approaching. The young Auror made a small, jerky movement with his hand and his guard retreated to the perimeter of the Dome as Draco rose to his feet. Father Alt paused at one point and Harry kept moving forward, his brilliant eyes shadowed and guarded. The priest remained where he was, giving them a little space. The snake inside of him began to hiss again, whispering malice against his soul, and Draco’s heart began to pound once more. Harry stood in front of him and Draco pressed into his lover’s mind, trying to get a sense of why Harry wouldn’t look at him still. Fear. Anger. Draco pulled back. Raw emotions, powerful enough to guard the young Auror’s thoughts, but Draco could guess well enough what they were. Harry looked up into his eyes suddenly, a terrible love shining forth with blinding brilliance of the sun. Draco wanted to look away but couldn’t. “Are you ready?” Harry whispered. Draco laughed softly, the sound bitter and dry like the rustling of autumn leaves. “No.”The hard white line around Harry’s mouth softened slightly. Harry lifted a hand and ran his fingertips along the pointed line of Draco’s jaw, emotions swimming behind his green eyes that Draco had no names for. The snake inside him hissed again. Abruptly, Harry looked startled. “I forgive you,” the young Auror said as if he had just had an epiphany, his eyes full of wonder, the hard line around his mouth disappearing altogether. Draco blinked at him. “I didn’t ask for your forgiveness, Auror.”Harry glanced behind him, briefly, at Father Alt and then looked back at Draco, the same look of wonder in his eyes. The snake stirred, Draco pushed it away. “No,” Harry agreed, running his thumb over Draco’s cheekbone. “But sometimes it’s good to forgive even if it is not requested.”Draco searched his gaze, trying to decide if this was some sort of riddle. But Harry Potter was too honest and abrupt to confuse him with riddles now. Whatever he meant, it meant a great deal to him. Draco nodded and leant his forehead against Harry’s, charging up their connection through the Horcrux Scar, allowing the energy to sweep through them, allotting them a strength neither felt they had. “Remember this,” Draco whispered. “You’ll never be just a memory, Draco,” Harry whispered back with conviction. “Never a memory. I’m going to get you out of this alive. I swear it.”Then, Harry sealed his oath with a firm, hard kiss, turned on his heel, and returned to the border, leaving Draco to stare in his wake as the priest made his approach. “Are you ready to make your confession?” Draco turned to the exorcist and nodded. ~~Harry watched from the Dome’s perimeter as Father Alt sprinkled his lover with holy water and laid one hand on his shoulder and the other on his forehead, covering his lightning bolt scar with one palm. Then Father Alt stepped away and said a few words. Draco then opened his mouth and began to speak. Everyone was too far away to hear what he said, but Harry could see his mouth moving. He spoke for many minutes and Father Alt listened intently, a passive look splayed across his wrinkled features. Then, Draco paused and closed his eyes. Then his mouth was moving again and suddenly Harry was swamped with sorrow. It coursed through in surging sweeps. Then there was anger and bitterness and grief. Each feeling swept through him violently, one replacing the other, as Draco confessed his sins, one by one, a kilometer away. Then they merged and collided, causing Harry to sway on his feet. There a blinding sense of hate as a harsh gust passed through the plain on swift wings. Harry shivered in his robe as he braced himself against the onslaught of hate and envy and guilt that attacked him, again and again, over and over. Someone was shaking his shoulder and Harry had to forcibly close his mind to his connection to Draco in order to register who was speaking to him. It was Ron and he was pointing to the lake. Another gust of wind. There thunderheads gathering on the horizon. And there, at the edge of the lake closest to the dome, was a strange red semi-cicle on the water right off of the shore line. Harry whirled back to the center of the Dome, his eyes wide. Draco’s black robes whipped around his slender form and Father Alt was speaking to him in a low voice, backing away slowly with each step. Draco’s eyes were utterly black. Draco opened his mouth and the winds swirled around him as words thundered past his lips. “Quid tum?” Those black eyes searched the field, is terrible gaze taking in the Dome that caged him and the sorcerers who held him in it. Maul curled Draco’s lips into a nasty smile. ”Etsi hoc corpus morietur, tamen ego perseverabo.” His words shook the Dome and everyone within took a step back, wands at the ready.He turned that awful smile and those black, abysmal eyes on Harry Potter and the young Auror had to fight not flinch against his stare. True, he was physically far away, but his presence was everywhere. And it was oppressive. Those black eyes glittered with malice and malcontent. “Per quamque solutionem problema est…Harry narrowed his eyes, anger burning in his chest. “Not this problem!” Harry shouted. There was a stilling in the gusting winds and then a sound like laughter, but it rumbled like thunder and shook the very earth beneath their feet. ”Innocentia mortua est…”“Maybe so,” Harry murmured, closing his eyes briefly and seeing Draco’s sad, piercing grey eyes. “None of us has been innocent for a long, long time.” He didn’t need to shout this time; he knew Maul could hear him. The gusts swirled closer to Draco’s form and it seemed as if Maul was thinking. Then, his black, bottomless eyes seemed to brighten and the thunderous laughter returned. ”Anima mala,” Maul said with an evil grin. Somewhere near Harry’s left, Aurors were scrambling. Someone exclaimed: “its blood! The red in the water; its blood!” Father Alt was running towards him, his mouth moving frantically, forming words that the buzz in Harry’s mind drowned out. “No…” Harry breathed. “No, his soul is not evil. You’re wrong.”The laughter again. The buzzing in his head was getting louder. ”Benedice parvulum qui pro maiestate desinatus est!” Father Alt is shaking Harry violently, shouting at him, his hot breath on his cheek. ”Benedice parvulum qui pro maiestate desinatus est!” The buzzing drowns out all else. Sad grey eyes. “I hate you,” Harry whispered, and he meant it. Oh, he meant it. ”Benedice parvulum qui pro maiestate desinatus est!” Father Alt drew his arm back and backhanded Harry across the face with all his might. The buzzing shattered. Harry blinked at the exorcist. “You must not speak to the demon!” Alt exclaimed. “Do not commune with him. He is the son of the Prince of Lies! Have you no common sense?”Harry nodded slowly. Maul frowned and his eyes suddenly dimmed. A violent pain erupted on Harry’s forehead and he gasped. Harry’s eyes went dead and then they suddenly brightened again. “Permitte mihi silere ut susmurros deorum audiam”, Harry said to the exorcist, feeling somewhat dazed, as if the words weren’t really his own. Alt nodded slowly, releasing his grip on the young Auror’s shoulders. “Yes. Accipe ad quae te tatum astringit, et ama quibuscum te fatum covocat, sed fac de corde totaliter.“Something retreated from Harry’s mind and he cried out, stumbling against the priest, feeling Draco’s absence like a blow. The gusts picked up again and Maul let out an angry roar. Alt looked deep into Harry’s eyes, his stern face swimming in Harry’s gaze. “Do not speak to Him. He will only lie to you. Protect your men from the plagues.”Harry nodded and Father Alt turned away and walked back towards the center of the Dome. The exorcist lifted his hand and exclaimed: “Ich treibe dich aus, du unreiner Geist, gemeinsam mit der teuflischen Macht des Feindes, jedem Gespenst der Hölle und allen deinen üblen Gefährten; im Namen des Herrn Jesus Christus. Weiche und halte dich fern von diesem Geschöpf Gottes. Denn er ist es, der dir befiehlt, der dich kopfüber aus den Höhen des Himmels in die Tiefen der Hölle stieß. Er ist es, der dir befiehlt, Er, der einst die See und die Winde und den Sturm besänftigte. Höre nun und erzittere vor Furcht, Satan, Gegner des Glaubens, Feind der menschlichen Rasse, du Vater des Todes, du Räuber des Lebens, Verderber der Gerechtigkeit, du Wurzel allen Übels und allen Lasters; Verführer der Menschen, Verräter der Nationen, Anstifter des Neids, Quell aller Gier, Säer der Zwietracht, der Verursacher von Schmerz und Leid...”Draco threw his head back and screamed, the angry sound wretched and ringing in their ears. Shaken, Harry turned to Ron who looked back at him with searching eyes. “It’s begun,” Ron said in the most serious voice Harry had ever heard him use. ~~A/N:Quid tum Latin; “What then?” Sort of a slang way of saying “What’s up?”Etsi hoc corpus morietur, tamen ego perseverabo Latin; Means roughly “This body may perish, but I shall continue.” Per quamque solutionem problema est Latin; means roughly “There is a solution for every problem.”Innocentia mortua est Latin; means roughly “Innocence is dead”. Maul is basically saying that there is no more innocence in his Host. Anima mala Latin; means “Evil soul”. Maul is just taunting him now.Benedice parvulum qui pro maiestate desinatus est Latin ; means “Bless the child who is destined for greatness.” Maul is attempting to seduce Harry into giving up.Permitte mihi silere ut susmurros deorum audiam Latin; means roughly “Allow me to be silent so I can hear the whispering of the gods.” Remember this is Draco speaking through Harry’s mouth. Accipe ad quae te tatum astringit, et ama quibuscum te fatum covocat, sed fac de corde totaliter Latin ; “Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart.” This is Alt’s response to Draco. “Ich treibe dich aus, du unreiner Geist, gemeinsam mit der teuflischen Macht des Feindes, jedem Gespenst der Hölle und allen deinen üblen Gefährten; im Namen des Herrn Jesus Christus. Weiche und halte dich fern von diesem Geschöpf Gottes. Denn er ist es, der dir befiehlt, der dich kopfüber aus den Höhen des Himmels in die Tiefen der Hölle stieß. Er ist es, der dir befiehlt, Er, der einst die See und die Winde und den Sturm besänftigte. Höre nun und erzittere vor Furcht, Satan, Gegner des Glaubens, Feind der menschlichen Rasse, du Vater des Todes, du Räuber des Lebens, Verderber der Gerechtigkeit, du Wurzel allen Übels und allen Lasters; Verführer der Menschen, Verräter der Nationen, Anstifter des Neids, Quell aller Gier, Säer der Zwietracht, der Verursacher von Schmerz und Leid...” German; means “I cast you out, unclean spirit, along with every Satanic power of the enemy, every spectre from hell, and all your fell companions; in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. Begone and stay far from this creature of God. For it is He who commands you, He who flung you headlong from the heights of heaven into the depths of hell. It is He who commands you, He who once stilled the sea and the wind and the storm. Hearken, therefore, and tremble in fear, Satan, you enemy of the faith, you foe of the human race, you begetter of death, you robber of life, you corrupter of justice, you root of all evil and vice; seducer of men, betrayer of the nations, instigator of envy, font of avarice, fomentor of discord, author of pain and sorrow....” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. A/N: I would like to again give a huge THANK YOU to MangaCat (Who I adore fervently) for German translations, and Bubba and his father for proofreading. Alot of these last chapters wouldn't have been nearly as cool without their help. Thank you, thank you, thank you. ~Sinner~“It is believed there are good dybbuks and bad, with a good dybbuk's "attachment" performing more the role of a "spiritual guide" there to help the person through their current trials and tribulations that the soul was attracted to. These "good" possessions are usually referred to as a 'sod ha'ibbur.In the case of a negative dybbuk, the spirit is not there to help as much as cause the same mistakes and chaos that it originally experienced during its own lifetime.” ~Exorcism Discussion found in wikipedia.org“Especially important is the warning to avoid conversations with the demon. We may ask what is relevant but anything beyond that is dangerous. He is a liar. The demon is a liar. He will lie to confuse us. But he will also mix lies with the truth to attack us. The attack is psychological, Damien, and powerful. So don't listen to him. Remember that - do not listen.” ~ Father Merrin in The ExorcistThe Dome…**The death of the first born. Harry knew that was what came next. Someone mentioned that they doubted Maul would slay his own Host, but Harry wasn’t so sure. The wind was deafening, clawing madly at their clothes and biting at their faces. It was all they could do to just remain upright as the Auror’s Division fought to contain the nine deadly plagues Maul was hurling at them. Outside the Dome, McGonagall led a small army of trusted Wizards and Witches against the onslaught of spreading plagues, screaming deflective curses and casting spells. Harry shouted to his men, barking orders and words of encouragement. Hermione, who, against Ron’s adamant wishes, had stayed to help, struggled against the swirling gusts to approach the Head Auror. She lifted the heavy Sword of Godric Gryffindor and Harry solemnly accepted it. Hermione pointed to her wrist, her bushy hair whipping around her face, and Harry glanced at his watch. They had fifteen minutes. ~~Five hours and forty-five minutes prior…*** A jolt. A pulling sensation against his skin, like something was trying to rip his flesh from his body. And there. Let me be quiet, so I can hear the whispering of the gods. Allow me to be silent, so I can comprehend their thoughts. A spasm of pain. Wraiths spat their venom, blocking the response. A tightening in his chest, his heart sped up, battling against the pressure. Everything went a red so dark, it was nearly black. A drowning, thick color. The Awful Daring of a Moment’s Surrender… He stared at his reflection, the gilded mirror a massive thing that could crush him instantly. He knew it wouldn’t. He stared and stared, wondering at the paradox of the unnatural and the familiar. His face was a stranger’s, but no, he knew this face very well. Hair the color of frosted glass, pale and shimmering. Long locks of moon light cascading down his shoulders, pulled back to reveal a high, regal brow, smooth and impeccable. Cold grey eyes the shade of an English dawn, thunderheads fat with rain and twice as dangerous. Silver, cruel lashes, a stark sweep of them against his pale, jutting cheeks. A frowning, stern mouth below a straight nose. A pointed face. Harsh lines marred the corners of his mouth, and even harsher lines defined the angles of his jaw. A slender neck, pale skin disappearing under layers of black and silver fabric. Broad shoulders, slender gloved hands. Long limbs covered in dark swirling robes. Unnatural. Familiar. It smelled like home here. The scent of fresh rain and beeswax. The cold still air scarred only by the shuffling feet of House Elves busy somewhere else in the Manor. His frown deepened, and so did the lines surrounding it. He would have to chastise his servants later for making such unnecessary noise. “Draco wishes to become a Seeker.” He turned. There, seated on a dark, plush sofa, candlelight washing over her features in an ethereal glow, was his wife. She gazed coolly back up at him. A pale vision of cold beauty, like the whimpering flower buds of early spring encased in ice. Her eyes, dark and somber, her mouth, created purely for cruel, knowing smiles, and her hair, the color of dawn light, she sat there, her hands folded over one another. “He only wishes to be a Seeker because he wants to compete with Potter,” he replied, his voice dead and harsh. “Is that so terrible a thing?” she said, her voice schooled to seem disinterested, but he knew better. “He will embarrass us,” he said, turning back to gaze at himself. “Our son is no athlete.” “He knows this. He requested that you purchase new brooms for the Slytherin Quidditch team.” He smiled. Clever. Draco was a studious boy, but he knew the hearts of those surrounding him. At so young an age, he has already mastered the art of manipulation. “He’s a fair flyer, Lucius,” she continued. “He may do well.” “The Dark Lord will have no use for Quidditch players,” he retorted. “The Dark Lord will have no use for those who cannot compete with Potter,” she countered. “We can arrange private lessons for Draco.” He turned again, regarding his wife. Her dark, luminous eyes shone back at him with an unspoken challenge. She adored him, that was no secret. But when it came to her son, she would only settle for the best. He crossed the room with quick, purposeful strides and grabbed his wife’s arm roughly. She rose, uncomplaining and unnaturally silent. She didn’t utter a word as he shoved her violently against the wall nor did she make a sound as he pulled up her skirts and thrust himself painfully inside of her. He saw a muscle tighten in her jaw and knew she was clenching her teeth as he rammed into her, over and over. She stared into his eyes, something swimming behind her dark gaze that was a mixture of terrible love and loathing. He clutched at her throat, his slim fingers tightening dangerously, and still she was silent. Still, she stared. He felt the heat begin to build in his loins and she tightened her legs around his waist, steadying them both for what was to come. A challenge. He tightened his grip, he thrust harder. She was making noises now. She was trying to breathe. A dare. Her eyes misted over and his movements inside of her became jerky and erratic. Unnatural and familiar. Cruel. So utterly cruel. His hand came away from her throat and he buried his face in her hair as he came. She sucked in a ragged breath. The scent of fresh rain and beeswax nearly suffocated him. His home smelled like her hair. He pulled out of her abruptly and refastened his trousers around his waist. He watched passively as she staggered against the wall, a limp thing that still managed to level him with her eyes. “Fine,” he said. “Let our son become a Seeker.” Then he swept from the room, away from the scent of rain and beeswax. Away from candlelight and his horrible reflection. Away from those terrible, loving, loathing eyes. Away from her cruelty. Away from his own. A jolt. A spasm of pain. His hand pushed his head into the pillow, the man’s dark locks stark against the pale skin of his hand. He struggled beneath him, trying to summon his wand. He swatted it away. He grasped his hip and pulled him up, thrusting his buttocks into the air, burying his face further into the pillow. He dug his hand into the soft flesh before him, kneading it roughly. He managed to flip himself over. Green eyes glared murderously back up at him. A jolt. A spasm of pain. He blinked. When his eyes refocused, those blazing green eyes were swimming in a sea of concern and worry. The man reached for him. He wanted to vomit, nausea crawling up the back of his throat. What has he done? He scrambled away. Away from his concerned touch. A gesture he didn’t deserve. A jolt. His heart squeezed painfully. He gazed at his reflection, the paradox becoming a realization. Anger replaced the confusion. Wrath boiled beneath his flashing grey eyes. He reared his arm back and slammed his fist into the glass, shattering the image of his father. Another jolt. Another spasm. ~~Father Alt circled the screaming, possessed Wizard, shouting the rites over the howling wind Maul had summoned. “…Weiche nun, im Namen des Vaters, des Sohnes und des Heiligen Geistes. Mach Platz für den Heiligen Geist durch dieses Zeichen des Heiligen Kreuzes unseres Herrn Jesus Christus, der lebt und herrscht in Einheit mit dem Vater und dem Heiligen Geist in alle Ewigkeit... ” ~~“The second Plague has arrived!” and Auror shouted. Frogs swarmed around their feet, trying to trip them. They struggled to levitate them to the center, topmost area of the Dome. Harry ran over to Ron, shouting something into his ear. Ron nodded and grasped Mackle’s wrist. “We will need reinforcements! Send word to Hogwarts! Tell her, ‘By the oath of the Order of the Phoenix—““I’ll go!” Snape shouted over the wind. “She’ll trust my word.”Ron glanced over to Harry but the black-haired Auror was already nodding for their old Potions Master to go. Snape clutched at the amulet around his neck and stepped from the Dome. “Potter!” Heroth exclaimed. “Look! The blood is spreading!”All eyes turned to the lake. Indeed it was. And so were the swarming frogs. The frogs began jumping onto the Dome, blotting out the sunlight. “We need to get Aurors out there!” Ron shouted. “Take fifty and secure Maul’s perimeter,” Harry shouted back. “Keep those damn things off the Dome!”“Got it.”~~ Pansy was saying something to him. That accursed girl always had the incessant need to chatter when she felt something was bothering him. He ignored her, and continued to walk, his pace quickening as the effort to keep from screaming against the pain began to be more than he could bear. His arm twitched, the burning in his Mark becoming more violent, and he clenched his fingers into a fist against it as it snaked up and down his arm. “Mr. Malfoy, a moment with you, please.” Dumbledore. He had not even heard him approach. His arm screamed in agony. Pansy gave them a dubious look before sauntering off down an adjoined hall. He stared expectantly at the Headmaster who gazed back him from behind half-moon spectacles. Finally, the Headmaster turned and he followed the old man back through the castle and up the winding staircase that led to his office. The Headmaster offered him a seat. He opted to stand. Dumbledore smiled as if he had expected that. “Your grades are wavering, Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore said in that deep voice of his. “Is there a particular reason?” He wanted to scream. The pain in arm was relentless and the Headmaster he had sworn to kill was inquiring about his grades. The utter ridiculousness of the situation made his head swim. “No, sir,” he said, lying through his teeth. “How are things at home?” He stopped himself from glaring at the old man. “Fine.” “Fine?” “Yes, fine.” Silence stretched out between them and the Headmaster seemed to be weighing his next words carefully. “If things aren’t as you make them seem, Mr. Malfoy, I hope that you would trust me with the truth.” “I’m sure you have better things to do with your time,” he retorted harshly without completely thinking his words through. Dumbledore smiled kindly. “As it would seem.” The Headmaster paused. “I was hoping to make you Head Boy next year.” He had the utterly fantastic urge to laugh, but swallowed against his hysteria. “Thank you, sir. That would be an honor.” “Would it?” Dumbledore asked softly, allowing the question to hang in the air. He stared back at the old man, anger and guilt clotting his throat. He didn’t want to do it. He really didn’t want to. But he had to. He played with idea of killing him now. Maybe then, the burning would cease. Maybe then, he could get some much needed rest. His wand felt heavy where it was tucked in his sleeve. So heavy. It wouldn’t take much. And if he failed, perhaps the old man would kill him and put him out of his misery. “You look unwell, Mr. Malfoy.” “Do I?” Again, he had to swallow against his hysteria. Again, the heavy silence. The piercing blue eyes seemed to see right through. He wondered if the old man already knew what was in store for him. It would be just like the old bastard to play with him like this. “Perhaps I should go rest.” “Perhaps you should.” Whether it was actually a dismissal or not, he took it as one anyway. He left on shaking legs, down the stairwell, through the castle, the urge to break into a run overwhelming. Then he was there, in the bathroom. Moaning Myrtle hovered curiously over his shoulder as he stared at his reflection in a mirror. His father’s disappointed gaze swam before his eyes. Voldemort’s threat rang through his mind. Dumbledore was the only one who could save his mother. Anger boiled in his chest and, with a shout, he slammed his fist into the mirror. The shattered glass cut into his knuckles, relieving, momentarily, the burning in his Dark Mark. He bent down to retrieve a shard of the reflective glass, gripping it tightly and allowing it to cut easily into the flesh of his palm. He burst into tears, sliding slowly down to the floor and rocking back and forth, gripping the glass harder and harder. The burning returned with a vengeance and he rolled up his sleeve. He gazed at the Dark Mark for a moment, hot tears blurring the vision of a roiling snake pouring from a skull’s mouth. He gritted his teeth and put the glass against the Mark. Slowly, at first, he cut a line across the face of the skull, watching with morbid fascination as blood welled up, a new kind of pain muting out the steady burning. He cut another line, and then another. And then another and another and another. Soon, he was slashing at the Dark Mark with a vengeance, his sobs ringing off the walls of the bathroom, until his arm was a bloody, ravaged wreck. He dropped the glass and cradled his arm, rocking back and forth as his sobs quieted to mere whimpers. He took off his tie and wrapped it tightly around his bloody forearm, using his teeth to secure the tourniquet. After using his wand to clean up the mess, he leant his head against the tiled wall behind him, his free-falling tears slipping down his face like a relentless rain. He pulled down his sleeve to hide the makeshift bandage and gripped his arm, relishing in the dull throb of pain versus the horrible burning of Voldemort summoning his Death Eaters, languid in the aftermath of agony. Moaning Myrtle sat beside him, a silent, cold presence at his shoulder and did not say a word. Suddenly, a voice sounded a few feet from him. With an angry shout, he jumped to his feet, wand at the ready. It was Harry Potter. Damn him. A jolt. A spasm of pain. He lowered his wand, defeated by his conscience, and Dumbledore gazed back at him with that terrible, terrible kindness and compassion. Suddenly, his godfather burst into the room, shoving him behind him, and shouting the Killing Curse at the Headmaster. “No!” he shrieked. But it was done, and he was falling. Falling, falling, falling. Dazed, he registered an angry shout behind them. The thunderous sound of running footsteps. And then the lurch of being Disapparated. A jolt. His heart felt like it was going to explode. “I need to find my mother!” “The deed is done, Draco,” Snape replied wearily. “Voldemort has no reason to slay your mother.” Could he really be that stupid? Or was he the only one who really and truly understood the Dark Lord? “The mission was mine,” he exclaimed. “I failed. Don’t you understand? My mother—“ An owl flew in holding a scrap of parchment. Snape snatched and read it with sharp, black eyes. Suddenly, his godfather paled. “What?” he demanded. “What is it?” “I’m so sorry, Draco.” “Don’t you fuck with me, old man,” he growled dangerously. “Your mother…your father was there. He watched Voldemort—“ ”Noooooo!” he roared. Snape had to bodily restrain him from flooing to the Malfoy Manor. He thrashed in his godfather’s grip, struggling with all his might. “Don’t be stupid, Draco,” his godfather was saying. “He’d kill you without even blinking. Don’t be stupid…” Abruptly, he went limp in Snape’s arms and he crumpled to the floor like a heap of dirty laundry when his godfather released him. He sat there and stared at the floor for nearly half an hour before looking up again. Snape, despite himself, flinched at the horrible look in his godson’s eyes. “You must stay hidden,” his godfather said. “I know,” came his dead, hollow reply. A spasm of pain. He Apparated to the funeral, knowing Lucius’ son would be there. He laughed as he saw him stooping low to kiss his mother’s brow. How incredibly poignant. “Hello, Draco,” he said, a smirk curling his lips. Flashing gray eyes glared up at him. “How dare you speak to me at my mother’s funeral, you illegitimate piece of Half-Blood filth?!” the boy snarled. No. No, I’m not him. Never him. Laughter. A jolt. A spasm of pain. And a vault of swirling blackness opened up beneath his feet. ~~Father Alt sprinkled holy water on the young man as he circled him, his voice becoming hoarse as he shouted the rites over the vengeful winds for the third time. Again and again, he would shout them, until the deed was done. “... Ergib dich, dadurch, ergib dich nicht mir selbst, sondern dem Gesandten des Herrn, Jesus Christus. Denn es ist die Macht Christi, die dich bezwingt, der, der dich durch sein Kreuz gestürzt hat. Zittere vor dem mächtigen Arm, der die dunklen Kerkerwände einriss und die Seelen ins Licht führte. Möge das Beben das diesen menschlichen Körper schüttelt, die Angst die dieses Abbild Gottes ergreift, auf dich übergehen...” ~~Lice, murrain, and boils. For their part, most of the aiding members here from the Ministry of Magic were able to ward themselves from the worst of it. But Harry knew Ron and the other Aurors outside the Dome were having one hell of a time with the Muggles down at the resort. They had sufficiently been able to quarantine them and were planning to Obliviate the Muggles when it was all over. However, when all was said and done, it was a right mess. Inside the Dome, the swirling wind and raw power Maul was exuding along with His first five plagues was worsening and becoming stronger. Already bone-weary, Harry shouted encouragement to his Aurors and braced himself for the next three hours. ~~ He stumbled in the darkness, his hands outstretched as he ran, desperately trying to find his way out. His sins buffeted him, sounds and smells and touches of them coming from all around. In the darkness, he could smell lavender and vanilla; and he could remember exactly how it felt to break Pansy Parkinson’s heart. As his eyes searched the blackness, he could feel the bite of the thorny stem tearing into his palm as he prepared to smear his blood on the white rose; and he knew he was responsible for his mother’s death. He could feel the glass dragging into his skin, permanently scarring his flesh where Voldemort’s Dark Mark once lay; and he knew he was responsible for Dumbledore’s death too. He could hear every harsh word he had ever said, every manipulative comment, every racial slur. He could feel the morning dew all around him the day he slew the Gatherer, Cruent Mantle, in cold blood, watching him writhe in agony before he murmured the Killing Curse. He could sense war alive and bloody all around him as he pointed his wand at himself and prepared to destroy the very last of Voldemort’s Horcruxes. Two murders. One, he would ask forgiveness for. One, he yearned to be redeemed. One, he regretted. The other…never. He stumbled again. Sinner. Sinner. Sinner. ~~ “...Zittere und flieh, wo wir den Namen des Herrn anrufen, vor dem die Bewohner der Hölle sich niederkauern, dem die himmlischen Tugenden und Mächte und Herrschaften untertan sind, und den Cherubim und Seraphim preisen mit unendlichen Stimmen, wenn sie singen: Heilig, heilig, heilig, Herr Gott Zebaoth. Das fleischgewordene Wort befiehlt dir, der Sohn der Jungfrau befiehlt dir, Herr Jesus von Nazareth befiehlt dir...” ~~Abruptly, a massive, thunderous pounding began to ricochet off the walls of the nearly opaque Dome. Instinctually, Harry ducked, along with a dozen other Aurors, before Saith, clutching his medallion, entered the Dome and ran up to the Head Auror. “Hail!” Saith yelled. “Hail the size of bludgers! They’re—“Someone screamed. Harry looked up just in time to see an unnatural storm cloud form at the inner surface of the Dome, directly above the Maul-possessed Draco Malfoy. Suddenly, a flood of pouring, bludger-sized blocks of ice began raining down on them. “Wingaurdium Leviosa!” Harry shrieked, narrowly catching the first wave and preventing them from being crushed. Immediately, every Wizard and Witch began following suit as wave after wave of pouring hail fell from the dark, swirling cloud at the top of the Dome. Then, it got bad. Massive burning boulders of fire came crashing down around them, causing his make-shift troops to scatter frantically. Maul’s radius of power was getting wider and the Auror’s Division was getting overwhelmed. Soon, Wizards and Witches were getting severely injured and were forced to Disapparate to St. Mungo’s. “Where the hell is McGonagall?!” Harry roared to no one in particular as he worked to get his Aurors back under control, safe, and focused on the massive task at hand. After an hour and a half, Harry’s blood ran cold as a blinding swarm of locusts fell from the storm cloud and circled Draco in a vortex of pestilence. Maul’s horrible laughter rumbled like thunder, shaking the ground beneath their very feet, before the vortex of locusts expanded and shot outward towards the perimeter of the Dome. “Merlin…” Harry breathed as the heavy cloud of locusts sped towards him and his men.~~Nobility isn’t about being better than others. It is about being better than you used to be. He stopped running and became very still, listening to that voice that made absolutely no sound at all. The Awful Daring of a Moment’s Surrender…By This and This Only, We have Existed. He smelled burning eggs and felt warm fingers caress his cheek. He heard Harry’s deep throated laugh and could remember the sight of his wind-blown raven hair. He felt the cold rain biting harshly into his exposed skin and the freezing mud between his toes. He lifted his face and began to twirl, spinning faster and faster. “I forgive you.” “I didn’t ask for your forgiveness, Auror.” “I know.” ~~ “… du magst die Menschen täuschen, aber Gott kannst du nicht spotten. Er ist es, der dich hinaustreibt, vor dessen Blick nichts verborgen ist. Er ist es, der dich zurückdrängt, dessen Macht alle Dinge untertan sind. Es ist es, der dich verstoßen hat, der das ewigwährende Höllenfeuer bereitet hat, für dich und deine Engel, er, dessen Stimme kommen wird wie ein scharfes Schwert, der kommt zu richten die Lebenden und die Toten und die ganze Welt mit Feuer...” ~~It was becoming as black as night. Harry didn’t have to look up to know the moon was beginning to blot out the sun. The ninth Plague. The Plague of Darkness. The Dome was beginning to crack. Headmistress McGonagall had arrived. Harry gritted his teeth.~~ He gazed at his reflection, knowing that the gilded mirror could crush him instantly, but he didn’t care. He knew it wouldn’t. His father glared back at him with disapproving, bright grey eyes. He reached out and touched the glass, a sorrow welling up inside of him he couldn’t suppress. “I forgive you,” he said to the mirror, to the glass, to his reflection…to his father. His father sneered back at him, his contempt flashing dangerously in those sharp grey eyes that were so like his own. “I didn’t ask for your forgiveness, boy.” “I know,” he murmured. “But sometimes…sometimes…” ~~ “Ich treibe dich aus, du unreiner Geist, gemeinsam mit der teuflischen Macht des Feindes, jedem Gespenst der Hölle und allen deinen üblen Gefährten; im Namen des Herrn Jesus Christus. Weiche und halte dich fern von diesem Geschöpf Gottes.” ~~Hermione handed Harry the sword of Godric Gryffindor, her bushy hair whipping around her face, and tapped at her wrist. There was no sense in trying to speak now. Maul’s wrath was too loud. Harry glanced at his watch. Fifteen minutes.Harry tightened his grip on the Sword of Godric Gryffindor, familiarizing himself with its weight. ~~ He stared at his reflection, knowing his father didn’t deserve his explanation, knowing that he would never understand. Nor would he care. Lucius Malfoy would burn for eternity for his sins. But that didn’t mean he had to. “But sometimes it is good…”The Awful Daring… He closed his eyes and smelled the scent of fresh rain and beeswax. “Sometimes it is good to forgive, even if it is not requested.” Of a Moment’s Surrender… He opened his eyes and saw his reflection. Sharp gray eyes, mocking, slender brows, and a cruel, pale mouth set in a pointed face surrounded by hair the color of frosted glass. His bangs fell forward to dust shyly over his eyes and he found the strength to smile. His face. Not his father’s. The scent of fresh rain and beeswax engulfed him. ~~The exorcist sucked in a deep breath, knowing that the time was near. He raised his hand to the heavens. “Denn er ist es, der dir befiehlt, der dich kopfüber aus den Höhen des Himmels in die Tiefen der Hölle stieß.” ~~Five minutes. Four. Three minutes.Five Aurors stood around Harry, shielding him from the onslaught of plagues so the Head Auror could get a moment’s rest before the Inversion Enchantratem activated. Harry shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his grip on the Sword of Godric Gryffindor firm and steady. His face was set and serious, his gaze focused intently on the center of the Dome where Maul, wearing Draco Malfoy’s face, screamed and writhed relentlessly. Two minutes. Sixty seconds. ~~ Fresh rain and beeswax. He searched the darkness, knowing that scent better than the back of his own hand. “Mother?” Let me be silent…Allow me to be quiet…~~Father Alt, having backed away to the safety of the perimeter of the Dome, watched intently and muttered prayers under his breath as Maul suddenly stilled, his mouth forming a large O in a silent scream. ~~Harry sucked in a breath and held it. The madness of Maul’s nine deadly Plagues suddenly slowed. Then, in a flash of brilliant white, every pestilence, every block of hail, and even the very darkness that surrounded them, was sucked towards the center of the Dome. A clap of thunder shook the very earth beneath their feet and an agonizing scream rang through the air and, suddenly, the entire world seemed to shift.And then, Draco Malfoy’s magic exploded.~~ “Mother?!” ~~ Translations: …Weiche nun, im Namen des Vaters, des Sohnes und des Heiligen Geistes. Mach Platz für den Heiligen Geist durch dieses Zeichen des Heiligen Kreuzes unseres Herrn Jesus Christus, der lebt und herrscht in Einheit mit dem Vater und dem Heiligen Geist in alle Ewigkeit... (German) Means “...Begone, then, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Give place to the Holy Spirit by this sign of the holy cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with the Father and the Holy Spirit, God, forever and ever...” ... Ergib dich, dadurch, ergib dich nicht mir selbst, sondern dem Gesandten des Herrn, Jesus Christus. Denn es ist die Macht Christi, die dich bezwingt, der, der dich durch sein Kreuz gestürzt hat. Zittere vor dem mächtigen Arm, der die dunklen Kerkerwände einriss und die Seelen ins Licht führte. Möge das Beben das diesen menschlichen Körper schüttelt, die Angst die dieses Abbild Gottes ergreift, auf dich übergehen... (German) Means “...Yield, therefore, yield not to my own person but to the minister of Christ. For it is the power of Christ that compels you, who brought you low by His cross. Tremble before that mighty arm that broke asunder the dark prison walls and led souls forth to light. May the trembling that afflicts this human frame, the fear that afflicts this image of God, descend on you...” ...Zittere und flieh, wo wir den Namen des Herrn anrufen, vor dem die Bewohner der Hölle sich niederkauern, dem die himmlischen Tugenden und Mächte und Herrschaften untertan sind, und den Cherubim und Seraphim preisen mit unendlichen Stimmen, wenn sie singen: Heilig, heilig, heilig, Herr Gott Zebaoth. Das fleischgewordene Wort befiehlt dir, der Sohn der Jungfrau befiehlt dir, Herr Jesus von Nazareth befiehlt dir... (German) Means “...Tremble and flee, as we call on the name of the Lord, before whom the denizens of hell cower, to whom the heavenly Virtues and Powers and Dominations are subject, whom the Cherubim and Seraphim praise with unending cries as they sing: Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Sabaoth. The Word made flesh commands you; the Virgin's Son commands you; Jesus of Nazareth commands you...”… du magst die Menschen täuschen, aber Gott kannst du nicht spotten. Er ist es, der dich hinaustreibt, vor dessen Blick nichts verborgen ist. Er ist es, der dich zurückdrängt, dessen Macht alle Dinge untertan sind. Es ist es, der dich verstoßen hat, der das ewigwährende Höllenfeuer bereitet hat, für dich und deine Engel, er, dessen Stimme kommen wird wie ein scharfes Schwert, der kommt zu richten die Lebenden und die Toten und die ganze Welt mit Feuer... (German) Means “...You might delude man, but God you cannot mock. It is He who casts you out, from whose sight nothing is hidden. It is He who repels you, to whose might all things are subject. It is He who expels you, He who has prepared everlasting hellfire for you and your angels, from whose mouth shall come a sharp sword, who is coming to judge both the living and the dead and the world by fire...” Ich treibe dich aus, du unreiner Geist, gemeinsam mit der teuflischen Macht des Feindes, jedem Gespenst der Hölle und allen deinen üblen Gefährten; im Namen des Herrn Jesus Christus. Weiche und halte dich fern von diesem Geschöpf Gottes. (German) Means “I cast you out, unclean spirit, along with every Satanic power of the enemy, every spectre from hell, and all your fell companions; in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. Begone and stay far from this creature of God.” Denn er ist es, der dir befiehlt, der dich kopfüber aus den Höhen des Himmels in die Tiefen der Hölle stieß. (German) Means “For it is He who commands you, He who flung you headlong from the heights of heaven into the depths of hell.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~One, Two, Seven, Six~ “Three years?” Draco asked suddenly. “What do you mean?” “Potter didn’t tell you?” Snape asked. “You were in some kind of coma for three years after the Eve Battle.” “What was the exact number of days?” “Pardon?” “The exact number of days, Godfather.” Snape thought for a moment. “I believe…One thousand, two hundred, and…seventy six days.” “Huh.” Draco sat back in his chair. “That’s interesting.” “What is?” “That is how long I was gone making the VCE Elixir.” Snape shook his head. “No, it takes four years and nine months to make the—“ “You really think I would sit there by a cauldron for the entirety of nearly five years, Godfather?” “I see.” Draco rested his chin in his hand. “One, two, seven, six…I wonder if that has any merit.” ~ Not Quite Paradise “When all stellar energy sources are exhausted, the interior of a star will undergo a gravitational collapse. In this sense a star is a "temporary" equilibrium state between a gravitational collapse at stellar birth and a gravitational collapse at stellar death.” ~Astronomical Physics The Dome…**At the center of the Dome, Draco hovered, surrounded by spheres of his magic. His eyes glowed an eerie yellow, his mouth was slack and slightly open, and his head was thrown back, hair like shimmering moonlight askew and brushing against his shoulders. The outer sphere was a cocoon of red and gold crackling energy and the inner sphere spiked with a myriad of blue and green sparkling lights. And a dark shadow hovered over Draco Malfoy’s upright and levitating form, near the edge of the outer sphere. “There He is…” someone to Harry’s left breathed. Harry focused on the dark blot within the red and gold crackling sphere of raw power and began to calculate how long his Shield would be able to protect him while he sought out and fought the demon Tulpa. The awful smell of ash and burning coal hung in the air as Ron struggled to make his way to Harry’s side. “Harry,” Ron murmured, finally coming close enough to place a hand on his partner’s shoulder. “We have a lot of injured.”Harry continued to focus on Malfoy and his state of temporary equilibrium between Wizard and Muggle, Possessed and Freed, but tilted his face towards Ron to let his partner know he was listening. The Aurors parted before the two, making way for Father Alt, who approached with swift, purposeful strides. “Jungzauberer,” he said to the young, black-haired Auror. “None of these people need to be here. They should go.”That’s a lot of people Maul could hurt wearing my face, Draco had said. Harry nodded. “Ron,” he said in a low voice. “I want you to make the Dome transparent so you can monitor what’s going on. Every Wizard who can still stand needs to surround the Dome; I want a wall of Wizards acting as the perimeter now. Only Alt will remain within.”“And if something should go wrong?” Ron murmured.“I trust your judgment,” Harry answered evasively. Harry looked over at him then and spoke to his best mate with his eyes, as they had always done, ever since they were young. At long last, Ron nodded. “Consider it done,” Ron said in a hard voice. Harry nodded back, the gaze they exchanged, the very epitome of severity. Harry glanced at Hermione, who was worrying her lower lip with her teeth. He placed a finger tenderly under her chin. “Chin up,” he said, and forced a smile. For Hermione Granger, Harry would always be able to force a smile. Hermione forced a smile as well and handed him her wand. Gratefully, he accepted it. “Alright people!” Ron shouted. “You heard him. That was an order, not a suggestion! Let’s go!”Quickly, the remaining Aurors and able-bodied Wizards and Witches jerked at their amulets and exited the Dome, until only Harry and the exorcist, Father Ernst Alt, remained. Together, they gazed towards the center of the Dome. Angels and Demons, God and Lucifer, Tulpas and Prophecies, Plagues and Elixirs…Harry Potter couldn’t give half a shit about any of it. The only thing that kept his adrenaline high and his focus steady was getting Draco Malfoy out of this God forsaken Dome alive. That was why his lungs worked in that steady rhythm, that was why his hand did not shake as it gripped the Sword of Godric Gryffindor, and that was the only reason why he did not favor the exorcist with a long-suffering look as the priest laid one hand on his head and the other on the center of his chest, muttering some ancient blessing in his Germanic native tongue. “Amen,” Father Alt finished, removing his hands and stepping away. Strangely, Harry felt a strange lifting in his body, as if a large weight had been taken off his shoulders. He straightened, gripped the Sword ever tighter, and walked steadily toward the outer sphere. ~~Ron grabbed Hermione’s arm after he had made adjustments to the Dome Shield and formed ranks among the able-bodied Wizards and Witches still able to help in Malfoy’s exorcism. Ron favored her with the strangest look Hermione had ever seen. There was something wild there, something fiercely protective and loving. Abruptly, Ron crushed her to him and kissed her long and hard. “You don’t have to be here,” Ron said roughly as he released her from the bruising kiss. “Is there any way I can convince you to go back to the Ministry?”However, Ron recognized the stubborn set of her jaw and the defiance in her eyes before he heard her answer. “No, love. I’m staying. There have always been three of us, and there always will be. Until the wheels fall off, Ron. And they haven’t fallen off yet.” He made a noise in the back of his throat, something close to a growl, before pulling her into another rough kiss. Only, this time, Hermione kissed him back. “I love you,” he whispered against her mouth. “I love you,” she whispered back. And then Ron was gone, barking orders to the men and women who were surrounding the large Dome, shoulder to shoulder, and heading in McGonagall’s direction. Hermione took in a deep breath, steadying herself against an onslaught of unexpected emotions. Love for her fiancée, concern for Harry, and much, much more.Harry was going into Malfoy’s magic again to face a demon. Voldemort had likened himself one, but Maul actually was one. Hermione hoped against hope that all their preparations would be enough to get everyone out alive. ~~The Ministry of Magic…Cell Block D…*Maximus Cure opened his eyes slightly, only mildly interested as he heard a surprised yelp and then a loud thud outside of the door that acted as the entrance to his Cell Block. He remained still on his cot even when he heard the door groan open and a person step softly inside. He remained still even as the intruder approached the cell that confined him. “Up with you,” a cultured English voice drawled. “It’s time to go.”Cure smiled, in spite of himself. “Wherefore art thou here, Wizard?”Blaise Zabini rolled his eyes, muttering advanced disarming spells under his breath to break the locks trapping the wily outlaw. “Why do you think? Every Wizard and Witch worth their salt is at the Dome aiding the exorcism right now. Security is slim. Do you want out or not?”Cure sat up and swung his legs over the side of his cot, jumping nimbly to his feet. He stretched with a mighty yawn and grinned again. “Now is as good a time as any, I s’ppose. Get m’out!”Zabini laughed, startling Cure, who froze and peered up at him with bright hazel eyes. “You should do that more often,” Cure said, a thoughtful look playing across his features. “What?” Zabini asked, opening the cell and stepping to one side to let the eccentric genius through. “Laugh,” Cure replied. Zabini frowned. “I’ll laugh when we’re pardoned.”“You think breaking me out of the Ministry of Magic is going to get you pardoned?” Cure scoffed in disbelief. Blaise made a face. “You can stay here, if you like.”“No, no, I’m coming.”Zabini handed him a pair of shoes, some robes, and was quiet as Cure slipped them on. “Do you think he’ll make it?”Cure glanced up at him, a sudden seriousness darkening his hazel eyes. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. Zabini chewed at his lip for a moment. Cure placed a hand on Blaise’s shoulder. “Everything turns out as it should,” Cure murmured. “How could it not? If it is the end result.”Zabini gazed back at him with pained, golden eyes, a weariness there they both shared, if one looked hard enough. “You did what you thought was right, to protect your friend’s soul,” Cure murmured. “To save him from a worse fate. You’ve done all you can. The rest…the rest is not ours to dictate.”Zabini swallowed and looked away. “I know.” He took in a deep breath. “I just wish I could’ve…that I could’ve done more.”Cure smiled gently. “And so does the stone that resides in the center of the mountain.” Zabini exhaled slowly and nodded, offering Maximus Cure one of his easy, seductive smiles, all white teeth and crinkling golden eyes. “Let’s go, then. This stone doesn’t want to be here when the mountain returns.” Cure laughed. ~~The Dome…**Distantly, Harry registered the sound of Ron’s shouting voice being muted out from the raw energy crackling and spiking around the wall of the outer sphere. He sheathed the Sword of Godric Gryffindor in his belt before taking out he and Hermione’s wands. He placed the tip of one wand above his head and slightly to the right, and the other slightly to his left. Slowly, muttering the Shield Charm, he brought the tips of the wands together, forming a white hot line with the condensed and stretched energy field. Quickly, he pushed into the weakened spot. Immediately, Harry was enveloped in an oppressive heat as his Shield attempted to protect him from Malfoy’s exploding, roiling magic. He took a step, pressing forward, and then another. He heard a cackle of laughter which ended in a horrible hiss. Harry took another step. And screamed.Blinding pain raked down his chest and he doubled over, coughing up blood as his hands went immediately to the bloody gashes in his chest. Harry sucked in a breath, his eyes going wide as agony erupted across his shoulder blades and up and down his spine. He doubled backwards as the sensation of five sharp knives dragged themselves down the flesh of his back. Something shoved him from behind and he fell to his knees. He couldn’t see, whether it was the dreadful pain, the oppressive heat, or the roiling, deadly magic that engulfed him and blurred his vision with hot tears, he couldn’t be sure. He reached for the Sword of Godric Gryffindor, gasping as fire exploded up and down the length of his ravaged torso, and pulled it from his belt. He pressed the tip of the blade into whatever hard surface he knelt upon and used it to aid him in getting his feet under him. He coughed again, spitting up blood. The thunderous, purely evil laughter sounded again, somewhere to his right. Harry swung hard with the Sword, and hit nothing but air. The momentum twisted him around, stretching his torn flesh. He loosed a shout, staggering forward wildly. Maul laughed again. ~~“Granger, a word with you.”Hermione turned away from the Dome, where she and two dozen other Witches and Wizards watched as a dark blur moved within Malfoy’s outer sphere. Whether it was Maul or Harry Potter, no one could be certain. Father Alt circled the outer sphere, his eyes on the spectacle within and seemed to be whispering prayers in a low voice. Hermione saw Severus Snape approaching her, a worried look marring the usually disdainful expression in his black eyes. “Professor Snape,” Hermione Granger greeted tentatively, stepping away from the Dome so they could speak privately. “How can I help you?”“Why did you give Potter your wand?” Snape inquired in a quiet voice, his beady black eyes still trained on the inner part of the Dome. “Because, in America, Harry needed both our wands to get into Malfoy’s outer sphere,” Hermione answered steadily. “Why? What’s this about?”Snape looked at her then. “Something has been bothering me. When I told Draco of his coma following the three years of the conclusion of the Eve Battle, my godson had asked the exact number of days…”Hermione’s face scrunched up unbecomingly as she did the math in her head. “One thousand, two hundred and seventy…six days? Is that right?”“Yes,” Snape said, taking a step closer and lowering his voice. “My godson then claimed that that was the exact number of days he was in China brewing the VCE Elixir.”Hermione looked perplexed. “One, two, seven, six…Snape, these days, I don’t much believe in coincidences…”Snape nodded. “Yes…I saw you hand him your wand and—““One Prophecy, two wands—““Seven Keys…” Snape nodded again. “What is ‘six’?” Hermione breathed, her eyes widening. Snape ran a hand through his oily hair. “I don’t know.”~~“You cannot protect him,” a voice whispered through the hazy heat. Harry swung the Sword again, biting his lip as the movement sent wave after wave of agony shuddering through his body—and stopped short when he thought he recognized the voice. “Malfoy?” Harry called out, reaching in front of him with one hand. “Draco?” Was he hearing Draco’s memories like the last time? Was he close to the inner sphere?“You love him,” the voice spat again, teasing in its wickedness. “Everyone you love and seek to protect dies. You will fail.”Harry froze. Sirius Black stood in front of him and smiled. Suddenly, a woman screamed “Avada Kadavra!” and a spasm of green light shot through his godfather’s body. Harry gaped as a stunned looke froze Sirius Black’s handsome features and he fell, bonelessly and very, very dead. Harry choked back a sob and nearly dropped the Sword of Godric Gryffindor in an attempt to reach out to his godfather as he began to collapse. He nearly touched him, but as his fingers swept forward, the image blurred and disappeared in a cloud of swirling dust. “You will fail.”“Where are you, Maul?!” Harry screamed. “Where are you?!”“You are responsible for Dumbledore’s death,” a voice whispered in his ear, a voice that sounded so much like Draco’s. Harry whirled, but nothing was there. The heat was oppressive but his valiant Shield Charm protected him from Malfoy’s dangerous magic. Tears continued to blur his vision. He could barely see anything at all. “You are a burden,” the voice whispered again. “To your friends, your colleagues; even the Ministry of Magic finds you nothing more than a nuisance.”“No…”“Oh, yes.” A laugh. A hiss. “No one can love you, Harry Potter. No one. They will always leave you when they find out what you truly are.”Harry bit his lip, the heat becoming unbearable. Yet, somehow, that had nothing to do with the tightening in his chest. “Ginny, Cruent, even Draco, once he is through with you…”Harry shook his head, refusing to believe it. Yet, how often had he thought these things himself? How often had he glanced at Draco and wondered how long it was going to last after Malfoy no longer needed his protection? How often had he watched people he cared about leave him for something better? A hand settled on his shoulder, cool and unthreatening. Harry flinched but did not turn, his head lowering as if he was under some kind of spell, the Sword of Godric Gryffindor going slack in his hand, his Shield Charm beginning to waver. “Your parents,” the voice whispered lovingly, “would be alive if it were not for you.”A sob caught in his throat and he lifted his head, turning his face to see the owner of the voice as a tear slid down his cheek. Draco Malfoy smiled pleasantly back at him, solid black eyes gleaming. “You know it is true,” He said. “Draco?” Harry backed away from Him, feeling his blood run cold. “No…”He smiled again, white teeth flashing dangerously. “Oh, yes.”“Draco, snap out of it!” Harry ordered, narrowing his eyes and taking a step forward. He tightened his grip on the Sword of Godric Gryffindor. The face of Draco Malfoy looked surprised. “You wouldn’t kill me, would you, Harry? Not after everything!”Harry paused, feeling uncertain. “After everything you said,” He continued in Draco’s voice. “You wouldn’t hurt me, would you? You said you loved me.”Harry lowered the Sword. “I do…”Harry closed his eyes, feeling a tingling sensation where his Scar used be. Something nudged into his mind, something whispered against his soul. He sought after it, straining to hear what the whispers said. Remember… What?I can’t… Remember me… Harry leaned closer, strained harder. The heat surrounding pressed painfully against his torn chest, burning the open, bleeding gashes there. What?Remember me this way…His eyes shot open, a blaze of emerald green. Maul gazed back at him, watching to see if His Six Lies had worked on the Eighth Key. …whatever you do, don’t you believe He’s me… Harry raised the Sword of Godric Gryffindor and, with a shout, attacked Maul with all his might. He brought the sharp blade down, the Gryffindor weapon striking true, and cut into the pale flesh between Draco’s neck and shoulder, dragging the sword through skin and bone and grimacing as Maul, wearing Draco Malfoy’s face, wailed miserably under the crushing blade. Bones crunched and blood sprayed; and Harry withdrew the Sword and prepared for a second blow. Draco’s features morphed into a terrible, mutated expression of utter wrath as the Sword of Godric Gryffindor pierced deep into His shoulder. The hot metal burned His demon flesh like it was forged in Hell itself. Maul broke His claws free of their human-fleshed confines in a spray of black blood and rammed them into the Eighth Key’s chest, aiming for his heart, as the Wizard plunged the Sword of Godric Gryffindor into Him a third time. Harry screamed, his anger more powerful than the sea of pain that flooded his senses and pushed. He took one step, then two, and with a shout, flung Maul from him with all his might, feeling every tissue, organ, and bone Maul clung to rip from his torso as his chest cavity tore open…And then there was nothing but blackness. ~~In a cloud of dense black, spraying bits of blood, bone, and tissue in its wake, Maul was thrown from the outer sphere, flew across the field, and slammed against one thick, magicked wall of the Dome. The Dome shuddered, but held firm.Father Alt’s voice rose to a mighty shout as bits of gore rained down upon him, binding the Black Tulpa and reciting the powerful words that would cast Him back down to the depths of Hell. A massive scream erupted from the heavy, black mist as it spread across the roof of the Dome, searching for an outlet, the wailing like the sound of a million mothers grieving for the deaths of their newborns, the shouting like the clap of a wrathful deity stamping his foot upon a thunderbolt. And then, in a flash of brilliant white, the very air seemed to shudder as the ground trembled and the black, dense cloud of pure evil, Maul, the Black Tulpa, Son of Lucifer, dissipated into nothingness. ~~Gasps rippled through the Witches and Wizards situated on the outer perimeter of the Dome. Someone screamed. It was Hermione.She ran, jerking at the amulet around her throat, her eyes wide with terror, as she hurled herself into the Dome, Ron, Snape and McGonagall hot on her heels. ”What is that?!” she shrieked, gesturing wildly at the gore that was spattered all over the priest and the dewy grass outside Malfoy’s outer sphere of magic, which still crackled with powerful and raw red and gold magic as Ron grabbed her about the waist and tried to restrain her. “Harry!” she wailed, tears streaming down her face. Trembling, Father Alt met Ron’s gaze, a sorrow there that said it all. It wasn’t Maul’s blood. It was human. And Draco Malfoy was still entranced under the potion of the Inversion Enchantratem. Soon, Malfoy’s magic would implode. McGonagall gasped and Snape wrapped an arm around her shaking, bony shoulders as the implications became too much to bear. ”No….” Hermione breathed, squirming in Ron’s grip to look up into the terrible, shocked expression twisting his features. “No, Ron…we can’t…”Ron made a strangled noise and gripped her tighter. “Malfoy’s about to make a crater of this place and with no one to bring him out of it…”“Harry’s still in there!” Hermione shrieked. “He’s still…”“’Mione,” Ron said, his voice cracking. “Harry’s—““Don’t you say it!” she screamed, punching him in the chest. ”Don’t you say it!!!”“Weasley!” Snape suddenly shouted, pointing at Malfoy’s inner, blue-green sphere of magic. ”Look!”There in the center of Malfoy’s state of temporary equilibrium, the figure of the Slytherin Prince’s levitating form flickered once. Then twice. And then disappeared.~~To be continued….~~ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Author's notes: Draco Malfoy loses his memory after the battle that destroyed the Dark Lord for good and Harry Potter finds himself protecting the Malfoy heir from renegade Death Eaters who would see him dead for his actions against Voldemorte. Then, their world spirals out of control when an unforeseen Prophecy begins the countdown for the End of Days. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. A/N: This chapter was designed to have two time continuums going on at the same time. I hop back and forth between them so you get a sense that real time is going a lot faster than "Limbo" time. I hope this prevents any "Technically, Harry should be dead by now" comments, lol. The final chapter will be up shortly and in a few days, I'll whip up an Epilogue if you ask nicely enough. wink, wink...nudge, nudgeEnjoy. ~Lullaby~ My precious one… My tiny one…Lay down your pretty head… The scent of fresh rain and beeswax.The scent of home. The scent of her hair. The scent of his mother. Draco closed his eyes and smiled as he was wrapped in her cool, comforting embrace. My dearest one…My sleepy one…Its time to go to bed… “Mother…” he sighed. “Draco,” she murmured. “How I have missed you…”“Is this Heaven?”“No, my dearest. Not Heaven. You are not yet dead.”~~“Where did he go?!” Ron demanded to no one in particular. “Where is he?”Malfoy had disappeared, yet his spheres of magic remained in the center of the Dome, pulsing madly. They walked around the sphere, and doubled back. They could see a dark shadow near the ground within the outer sphere, but they could not distinguish who or what, exactly, it was. Hermione was convinced it was Harry. Twice, now, they had to restrain her from marching into the outer sphere to retrieve him, knowing it would be too dangerous. “I don’t understand,” Ron continued. “Malfoy’s memories were what held his magic together last time, right? How are the spheres stable if he’s gone? Hermione?!”“I don’t know…” she whispered, her gaze fixed intently on the dark shadow within the outer sphere. “Priest?!” Father Alt shook his head, at a loss for words. ”Anyone?!” The spheres’ pulsing began to push outward, sending out a shockwave of raw energy. “I want everyone out of the Dome now,” Ron ordered, his eyes going wide as his magic charged up a shield to protect him and his fiancée from the shockwave. “Right now!”“Harry’s still in there!” Hermione protested. “NOW!”~~ My precious one…My darling one…Don’t let your lashes sweep… Draco stirred in his mother’s arms, the dreamy, sleepy state he had drifted into interrupted by the sound of someone crying. “Who is that?”“Lily,” his mother replied in a sad voice. “She weeps for her son. She does not wish for him to pass on.”“Who is her son?”“Would you like to see?” Narcissa Malfoy, as cold and beautiful as the dawn in early spring, gently took her son’s hand and led him away. Draco, for first time since he had arrived at this place, looked around as his mother showed him the way towards the sobbing woman. Everything was a brilliant, blinding white. The white stretched on and on, until Draco felt they were in nothingness, walking on nothingness, and traveling into nothingness…The weeping became louder. His mother paused and stepped to one side. There, kneeling in the white nothingness, was an auburn-haired woman crouched over a body, rocking back and forth, her hands covered face. Draco stepped closer. My cherished one…My weary one…Its time to go to sleep… The body was that of a young man, the blood pouring from his gaping chest a stark splash of red against the pale pallor of his torn flesh. Draco gasped, able to see the large muscle of his heart beating a frighteningly slow rhythm. The man’s lips were parted, red frothing in the corners and dribbling down the sides of his face. The man had a shock of tousled black hair and his eyelids were open just enough for Draco to see the magnificent green hue of his eyes. Not a tamed or infected green; but a true green. Bright, and pure, and wild…and dangerously unfocused. Draco tore his gaze away from the man’s pale, beautiful face and glanced at the sword that lay slack in the man’s grip. “Mother, who is this man?”Narcissa turned her luminous, dark gaze and settled it on her son. “You don’t know?”The weeping woman quieted and peered up at them with her watery gaze. Draco looked down into her tear-stained face and was startled to see the young man’s striking green eyes in his mother’s face as well. “Why is he dying?” Draco breathed. “What happened here?”Narcissa ran a tendril of her son’s milky hair between her slender fingers. “He fought a demon on your behalf, my son. He is dying for you.” Just bow your head…And give your cares to me… Draco’s eyes widened, the knowledge marring the illusion of innocence shining in his pale gray eyes. “Why would he do such a thing?”Narcissa watched a look of horror flicker across her son’s pointed features as he looked back at the ravaged body. The large muscle continued to beat, a rhythm that was steadily slowing.“Because he loves you,” Narcissa answered, touching her son’s cheek tenderly.Just close your eyes…And fall into the sweetest dream… ~~“What’s happening, Weasley?” Minister Scrimgeour asked the second they emerged from the Dome. “Malfoy’s disappeared,” Ron replied in a rushed voice as Aurors gathered around. “There’s blood everywhere and no sign of Potter. The spheres are becoming erratic.”“Are they preparing to implode?” the Minister demanded. Ron glanced at his dazed fiancée and looked back at the Minister. “Yes. Just like the last time.”Scrimgeour swore under his breath. “And no sign of Potter? We have to get these people out of here. Will the Dome contain the implosion?”Ron turned to Anin, who had appeared at the Head Auror’s shoulder, one hand pressing against a bleeding wound in his side, and exchanged words with the older Auror. When Ron turned back to the Minister, his face was drawn and pale. “Most of it,” Ron answered finally. “But the Dome was not designed to hold that kind of magic. It is likely it will collapse.”Scrimgeour swore again. “And Draco Malfoy…?” The question hung thick in the air between them. Hermione stifled a sob. Ron bit his lip. “Without Harry to calm him, his magic will implode, Minister. And while the Inversion Enchantratem was not likely to kill Malfoy—““If the Dome collapses—“ Hermione murmured. “And it will,” Anin interjected.“It will crush Malfoy?” Minister Scrimgeour asked, his hands clenching and unclenching.“And Harry,” Ron said, heaving his shoulders heavily. “Yes, Minister. Most assuredly.”Scrimgeour swore a third time. “And what was your and Potter’s plan should this have happened?” he demanded. Ron swallowed past a lump in his throat. They had discussed, he and Harry, what Ron was expected to do should Harry fail to aid Draco back to normalcy. “Let it,” Ron answered, his voice cracking, and he despised himself. No real friend would have allowed Harry to walk in there to face that demon alone. There have always been three of use and there always will be. But Harry had insisted…and when Harry Potter was intent on doing something alone, there was nothing anyone would be able to do or say to sway him. Never had been. “Let the Dome collapse around them,” Ron repeated, avoiding the look Hermione was shooting at him. “The rest we can handle individually. I’m sending these people home—““I’m staying.” That was Hermione. “I will stay as well,” Severus Snape informed them, his voice thicker than it usually was as he tried to remain outwardly calm despite the swell of anger and grief at the notion of having to watch his godson die a second time. “As will I,” Headmistress McGonagall added, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Ron nodded, a small, emotional jerk of his chin, nothing more. “Fine. The rest—““I would like to remain, young magician.” Father Alt looked down into Ron’s freckled face. “The rites are still incomplete. I must bless the freed to make certain the demon does not return to inhabit the body.”Ron laughed bitterly. “Do as you like, priest.” “Weasley,” Minister Scrimgeour began. “Is there no way to save—““Maul has been exorcised!” Ron all but shouted at the Minister. “Isn’t that what you wanted? According to the Ministry, today was a complete success. You can go, Minister.”Scrimgeour frowned at the young man, only able to guess at the torrent of bitterness that the Head Auror was contending with right now. “Despite what you may think, Auror, I had hoped that—“Ron laughed again, running a hand roughly through his red hair. “Forgive my rudeness, Minister. But please, please, just go.”Minister Scrimgeour regarded him thoughtfully for a moment. “The Ministry will retreat to a safe distance, Auror. But we will remain, should you need us.”In spite of himself, Ron was grateful for that. It meant that the outcome of the next few minutes actually meant something to the Ministry. It meant that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were not mere collateral damage to them. And that they all still hoped they were still alive.~~The auburn-haired woman gasped, staring at Draco’s face. Her eyes widened with surprise and she quickly glanced down at her son, and then back up the pale, pointed man before her. She reached out and tugged on Draco’s hands, urging him to kneel. Draco knelt, looking bewildered. She reached out and traced the lightening bolt scar on his forehead with one finger before exchanging a long look with his mother. Narcissa closed her eyes to hide the sudden pain that shone there. “You could save him,” Narcissa murmured. Draco sent his mother a startled glance. “How?”“But you would have to go back.”“Back?”“Back from whence you came, precious. Back to the world of the living.”Draco reached out for the dying man’s pale hand, but snatched his arm back abruptly. “Can I return here after it is done?”“No, my love. Not for many, many years.”Suddenly, Draco stood, shaking his head. “Then I will remain. I want to stay with you.” Where it smells like fresh rain and beeswax. Where it smells like home. Where it is safe and warm and brilliantly white.The auburn-haired woman burst into tears. “Why do you weep, woman?” Draco inquired, placing a hand on her soft hair. “He will be here soon. He will not bleed forever.” But she continued to cry, resuming her crouch over her dying son, rocking back and forth. “It is not his time,” Narcissa whispered, wrapping her arms about her son. “She weeps because his life was shortened.” ‘Cause in my loving arms…You’re safe as you’ll ever be… Draco stirred in her arms, fighting against the dreamy spell that accompanied her embrace without pausing to wonder why. “Because of me?”“Because he fought to save your soul.”“Because he loved me?”“Yes.”Draco was thoughtful for a moment. “Did I love him?”“Very much.”Draco looked perplexed. “Truly?”Narcissa nodded. “Oh, yes, my heart. You would have given him the world had you had it at your disposal.”“Was I a giving person, back where I came from?”Narcissa smiled. “No.” So hush, my dear, and sleep… Draco looked at the man again, noticing that he could only barely hear his heart beat. “If I can save him, can I save you too? Can you come with me?”“No, precious. I have been dead for many years.”“No…” Draco abruptly pulled away from her. “Yes, my love. My time is done. I belong here now.”“But I am not dead?”“No, you are not.”Draco bit his lip. “I must go back, mother.”Narcissa nodded solemnly, her eyes grave and sorrowful. “I will miss you.”Draco approached the sobbing woman once more and laid his hand upon her shoulder as he knelt beside her. “Lily?”Her sobs quieted and she looked over at him, her brilliant green eyes daring to hope. “I cannot give your son the world,” he whispered to her. “But I will take him back to it.”~~“Can you hear that?” Snape hissed suddenly. “Can you hear it?!”~~And in your dreams…You’ll ride on angels’ wings… Draco bent low over the bleeding man, an urgent feeling in his gut instructing of him what to do, and pressed his forehead against his. A wild, spinning sensation whirled around them and Draco had to shut his eyes against it, lest the dizziness overwhelm him. He felt an empty vault open up beneath them and suddenly they were falling, falling, falling…Draco held the man close to his heart, gripping him as tightly as he could.~~ Hermione gasped and clutched at Ron’s arm. The spheres of Malfoy’s magic had begun glowing an ethereal white within the Dome. Snape lifted his face as the last rays of the sun disappeared over the western horizon and closed his eyes as he finally recognized the voice. “Narcissa…”Beside him, Father Ernst Alt was saying prayers of gratitude. ~~ Dance with the stars…And touch the face of God… Draco suddenly felt weightless and struggled to open his eyes. He was holding something heavy and wet against his chest, gripping something and pulling it against his forehead. Draco gasped as he breathed in the scent of musk and Quidditch leather, recognizing the sodden heap in his arms as Harry Potter. Draco wrapped his arms tighter around him, not wanting to know what had soaked through his lover’s robes, not wanting to know why Harry’s chest felt odd and disfigured against his own. Frantically, Draco attempted to press into Harry’s mind, as he had done so many times before, but found nothing…Except the slow thrumming of his failing heart. Draco sucked in a breath, knowing he would need every last drop of his magic, and prepared to overpower the Inversion Enchantratem. ~~The Dome, aglow by the incredible light shining within, began to resemble the moon, refracting the light of the sun. They all watched in awe as the light grew brighter and brighter, until, finally, they had to shield their eyes. When they looked again, there was a smaller ball of energy. No. Not a ball. An awkward shape and not perfectly round. They peered closer. And the energy was different.Hermione sucked in a breath. “Is that Malfoy?!”Suddenly, Ron was running towards the Dome. He gave his amulet a sound tug before hurling himself within the Dome thick walls. Malfoy was holding something. ~~ And if you should awake… “C’mon, Harry,” Draco chanted, rocking Harry in his arms, watching as bits of tissue and bone healed itself in Harry’s chest and the gashes closed up to reveal solid scar tissue. “Stay with me, Harry. You promised, remember? You said we could give it a try, remember? You said there could be an after, dammit; so don’t you leave me now!”Spiking, swirling magic and raw power, exuding brilliantly from their connection through the Horcrux Scar as Draco pressed their brows together, whirred around them in a fantastic, crackling vortex of energy. The thrumming of Harry’s heart was barely a whisper. Draco choked back a sob as the sound all but vanished, charging up their connection again and again. “Damn you, Harry Potter! You are not allowed to die here! Breathe, you insufferable prat! Breathe!”Something trembled deep within Draco’s gut that swiftly became a growl. Then, with mighty shout, he spiked their magic one last time, focusing all its power on that one muscle that had to beat again for his lover to stay alive; Harry Potter’s heart, laid bare and bleeding for far too long. And Draco saw no more.~~ My precious one…My tiny one…I’ll kiss your little cheek… The swirling magic that engulfed them flashed once more and abruptly vanished. Ron skidded to a halt and fell to his knees beside them just as Draco Malfoy collapsed beside Harry Potter’s body, twitching and shivering as if he were seizing. Ron heard the sound of running behind him and barked: “Make sure Harry’s breathing!” as he stumbled over to Malfoy’s side. Ron pulled the seizing Malfoy to him and ripped a scrap of fabric from his sleeve, holding Draco’s head in his lap and rolling up the fabric to place in the blond Wizard’s mouth so he couldn’t bite his tongue off. “He has a pulse!” Hermione announced in a ragged, breathless voice. “He’s breathing, ah, thank Merlin; he’s alive, Ron!”“McGonagall is sending for Healers,” Severus said, kneeling beside Ron to aid him in restraining Draco Malfoy’s thrashing limbs as the worst of his seizure-like shudders passed. Hermione swore under her breath as she lifted torn bits of Harry’s robes and shirt from the bare skin of his chest. She ran her fingers lightly over the large, pinkish scar that ran the length of Harry’s torso. She lifted her eyes to Ron’s, a question there that he had no answer for. Father Ernst Alt bent low over the shivering, unconscious Draco Malfoy and placed one gnarled hand on the young man’s damp forehead. “Allmächtiger Gott,” he prayed. “Wir bitten dich, hindere diesen bösen Geist daran deinen Diener weiter zu quälen, und halte ihn fern, auf dass er nie zurückkehre. Durch deine Weisung, oh Herr, mögen die Güte und der Frieden unseres Herrn Jesus Christus, des Erlösers, Besitz ergreifen von diesem Mann. Und wir fürchten nicht länger das Übel, denn der Herr ist mit uns, der lebt und herrscht in Einheit mit dem Heiligen Geist in alle Ewigkeit...”Finally, beneath the priest’s touch, Draco stilled, his breathing becoming steady, his limbs becoming limp and languid. And underneath…The smiling moon… I’ll sail you back to sleep… “...Amen.” ~~St. Mungo’s…Three days later…*Harry felt a thrumming heaviness in his head and groaned, fighting against consciousness with all his might, not wishing to awake. The sheets that covered him were cool, and the air smelled like disinfectant. Harry groaned again. Hospitals. Harry Potter hated hospitals. In his short life, he had spent far too much time in them. Abruptly, a thought hit him and he panicked, sitting straight up in the bed and blinking wildly.“Calm down, Potter; you’ll hurt yourself,” a drawling, lazy voice admonished him lightly. “I am fine.”Harry twisted in the white linen and gaped at the source of the voice. Then he smiled. There, in the corner of the tiny hospital room, sitting in a chair and reading a book filled with Muggle poetry, was Draco Malfoy. Draco glanced at him over the rim of his book and turned a page. “Welcome back, Harry.”Harry startled himself with a laugh. For some reason, it seemed like an odd thing to say. “Thanks,” he said. “You too.”Draco smiled from behind his book, lowering it so Harry could see. “What time is it?” Harry inquired. “Hmmm. Four in the morning, I think.”“That’s quite a stretch after visiting hours.”“Visiting hours do not apply to me.”“Why?” Harry scoffed, rubbing at his eyes and stretching. “Because you’re a Malfoy?”“No,” Draco answered, setting down his book and giving Harry a strange look the Auror couldn’t quite place. “Because it’s me and it’s you and the whole world knows it now.” The corner of Harry’s mouth lifted in a half-smile. “I see. How long have I been out?”“Three days, interestingly enough,” Draco replied, rising to re-seat himself in the chair closest to Harry’s bed. “Why?”“’On the third day, He rose again…’” Draco quoted with a shrug. “Just another thing to occupy my thoughts while you get the rest you need.”Harry made a face but settled back into the pillows anyway. “Point taken.”Harry was silent for a few minutes. “So we were successful, then?”“Very.”“What happened?”“What don’t you remember?”“Malfoy, answer the damn question.”Draco gazed it him for a long time, those piercing gray eyes taking in the horrifying scar that began at Harry’s collar bone and ended below his abdominal muscles. A scar that was hidden mostly from the white shirt he was wearing. A scar Harry Potter had yet to notice. Draco considered telling him about the strange limbo he had found himself in after the Inversion Enchantratem ripped his magic from his body, after Maul was launched from within him, and after his own scarred soul was sent adrift. Draco considered explaining the scent of fresh rain and beeswax and how, for the briefest of moments, he had actually considered remaining within the safety of his mother’s cool embrace rather than taking pity on the sobbing vision of Lily Evans Potter and rescuing her son from certain death. Draco considered reciting his battle with his own personal demons and the ultimate act of forgiving his father. However, he decided those things could be told later and said instead: “You gave me one bloody scare, you horrid ponce.”Harry’s brilliant, bold, and utterly true green eyes glanced over at him. Draco reached out for his hand and grasped it tightly, a bubble of pent-up emotion bursting against his throat. “I thought I was going to lose you.”That’s when Harry looked down at his chest. He reached down with his other hand and lifted the hem of his shirt. He chewed at his lower lip as he beheld the thick expanse of scar tissue before dropping his shirt and staring off into the distance. “Oh.”Draco closed his eyes against the pain that tightened around his heart. When all was said and done, he had given him those scars. If it weren’t for him, Harry Potter would be hale. “Can’t be anything like the scar on your soul,” Harry said softly, still staring into some place Draco couldn’t see. Draco’s eyes flew open and he stared at the young Auror in disbelief. “You can’t be serious!” Harry looked at him then. “Why not?”Suddenly, Malfoy laughed. It was a clear, unfettered sound and it tugged a lop-sided grin from Harry’s lips. “You know, Potter? There are going to be days when you will drive me mad and I’ll have to struggle to remember why the hell I fell in love with you. But then you will say something like that and I’ll remember all over again.” Whatever would have been said next was interrupted by a breathless Healer, who barged into the room with a flustered look on her face. “Mr. Potter! Oh, my! You’re awake!”Soon, Ron and Hermione, sleepy-eyed yet alert, were there, the Minister and a dozen other Aurors following shortly after. The room swiftly became too cramped for Malfoy to bear and he quietly took his leave, shutting the door behind him as Harry’s friends and colleagues loudly spoke words of joy and concern on Harry Potter’s behalf. There would be time to speak later. There would be a lot of time to speak later. “Can I return here after it is done?” “No, my love. Not for many, many years.” Many, many years. Draco smiled to himself as he Disapparated. And he planned to spend every waking moment possible at Harry Potter’s side. A lifetime of burnt eggs and lazy smiles. Not quite the paradise he had been expecting after he died, but it would do. And he could definitely live with that. ~~A/N: Lyrics from the song “Lullaby” by Celine DioneTranslations: Allmächtiger Gott, wir bitten dich, hindere diesen bösen Geist daran deinen Diener weiter zu quälen, und halte ihn fern, auf dass er nie zurückkehre. Durch deine Weisung, oh Herr, mögen die Güte und der Frieden unseres Herrn Jesus Christus, des Erlösers, Besitz ergreifen von diesem Mann. Und wir fürchten nicht länger das Übel, denn der Herr ist mit uns, der lebt und herrscht in Einheit mit dem Heiligen Geist in alle Ewigkeit... ...Amen. (German) Means “...Almighty God, we beg you to keep the evil spirit from further molesting this servant of yours, and to keep him far away, never to return. At your command, 0 Lord, may the goodness and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ, our Redeemer, take possession of this man. May we no longer fear any evil since the Lord is with us; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, forever and ever... ...Amen." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. ~The Order of Merlin~Minister Scrimgeour was, frankly, rather surprised to see Auror Harry James Potter in his office only a mere week after the exorcism. The Healers at St. Mungo's had made it explicitly clear they wanted Potter to remain in the hospital for at least a month for observation--though, in the Minister's opinion, it was more for St. Mungo's benefit than Potter's. The Healer's had never seen anything like this before: A Wizard healing a gaping, lethal chest wound with naught but the raw magic that connected them through the Horcrux Scar. Despite his ordeal, and the most obvious need for rest, Harry Potter stood in his doorway, swaying slightly on his feet, with dark smudges under his bright green eyes positively causing them to gleam in the darkness, and holding a slip of parchment in his trembling right hand. The Minister clasped his fingers in front of him, nodding for the young Auror to come in. Harry closed the door quietly behind him and approached the Minister's desk, bringing with him the scent of ancient burnt offerings in temples, deep within the forests of Greece, the vaulted ceilings open to the twinkling stars. "What is that?" Scrimgeour inquired softly, knowing in a tiny part of his soul that the answer would leave him pondering for days. "I smelled it in your hospital room too.""Pine," Harry answered quietly, his beryl gaze gleaming in the shadows that surrounded them. "Frankincense..." Harry's gaze wandered, staring into some abysmal void Scrimgeour could not see. "Sandalwood...and something else. It rolls off Draco in waves and sticks to anything he touches for a time.""Oh?" Scrimgeour raised a brow. Harry did not have the grace to blush. His beryl gaze deepened, became darker, and yet seemed to gleam ever brighter. "Why?"Harry did not answer right away. He looked incredibly tired. "I asked Father Alt the same question, Minister. I did not like his answer.""What was his answer?""He said many who touch the Face of God come away engulfed with the scent of flowers.""It is not the scent of flow--""I know, Minister," Harry Potter said, his eyes flashing in the darkness of his office. The hour was late and the shadows long. "Remember that he is Draco Malfoy and not St. Francis of Assisi." Indeed; this would be something he would ponder for days. Scrimgeour eyed the parchment clenched in the Auror's right hand. "What is this all about, Potter?""I came here out of respect," the young Auror said after a moment's pause. "In light of the Ministry's...recent politics." He lifted the parchment. "I have here a letter of resignation--""Potter--""I'll hex it to pieces, if you wish it," Harry continued, his eyes mirroring that which burns within missionaries. "But you must know: I plan to remain with Draco Malfoy."Harry paused. "The choice is yours, Minister. I will stay, if you'll have me."Silence stretched between them as the shadows grew ever-longer in the Minister's office. Finally, Scrimgeour responded. "I have a hundred reasons to fire you, Auror--and one day, I'll have a thousand. But you are one of my best. So, until that day comes, your private life is none of the Ministry's concern. I will be happy to see you remain as a crucial part of my Auror's Division."Harry searched the Minister's gaze before lifting the parchment and then, palm upward, uncurling his fingers. In a blaze of yellow-green, the parchment caught fire and burnt swiftly to a billion pieces of ash. It was easy to forget that Harry Potter had long ago harnessed the ability to channel his magic without the use of a wand because he did not often put it on display. However, right in that moment, the Minister of Magic thought that Harry Potter looked like an avenged angel, dark and powerful and true. Scrimgeour shuddered at the thought of what power Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy would wield as a pair, together at one another's side. Well and so, the Wizarding World could use a solemn hero or two. They would do just fine. "Now I have a favor to ask," Harry said, his voice blunt while his demeanor remained bone-weary. "You're asking favors now?" Technically, it was rhetorical and he didn't expect an answer. Harry gave him an explanation anyway. "We both know that within weeks, most will forget how close we came to the End of Days. It will become a fairy tale...and that is something we are all powerless against."Scrimgeour peered up into his bright, burning gaze. "I'm listening, Auror."~~ “And indeed there will be time For the yellow smoke that slides along the street, Rubbing its back upon the window-panes; There will be time, there will be time To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet; There will be time to murder and create, And time for all the works and days of hands That lift and drop a question on your plate; Time for you and time for me, And time yet for a hundred indecisions, And for a hundred visions and revisions, Before the taking of a toast and tea. In the room the women come and go Talking of Michelangelo.” ~ Excerpt from The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock, poem by T.S. Eliot (1888-1965) Janarius’ Java in Knockturn Alley… Five months later…*Draco Malfoy took a sip of his cappuccino, making a face as he swallowed the hot, bitter fluid. The former Slytherin Prince of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had never been overly fond of coffee, but it was early, and he was bored; and the frothy brew served as a welcome jolt back to reality as he pored over a fascinating poem by his favorite Squib poet in a shadowy back corner of Janarius’ Java coffee shop. Draco had always been enthralled by T.S. Eliot’s prose, though he could never really put a finger on why. And, despite putting the dark lyrical poignancy of The Waste Land aside indefinitely, Draco was freshly engrossed by this particular Love Song; perhaps because it didn’t really seem like a love song at all. There was a bitterness to this tale, and, moreover, a weariness and a resigned quality to it which Draco Malfoy felt deep within his bones. And yet, beyond the bitterness and the resignation, there was a definite shadow of wry hope. And that, too, Draco could relate to. Draco frowned over his book as a dozen teenagers stumbled through the entrance of the café, laughing, joking, and positively reeking of Quidditch leather and sweat. Not the clean, crisp smell Draco often found lingering on Harry’s skin, but a morbid, acrid stench of filthy, putrid cow hide. Draco was appalled, watching over the rim of his book as a flustered Janarius made his way over to them to get their drink orders. He motioned for the Wizard with one lazy flick of his wrist. Janarius paused, mid-stride, before changing directions and approaching Draco’s isolated, shadowy corner. Draco told the café owner to tell them he would pay for their drinks if they would graciously quiet themselves. As Janarius left his table to inform them, Draco realized they must be Hogwarts students. It was the week before Christmas and they were out on holiday, practicing Quidditch during their time off. Still, no self-respecting Wizard, under-age or no, would present themselves in Knockturn Alley in such a manner. Draco watched as Janarius relayed his message and one particular boy turned to gaze in his direction. Draco smiled, a flash of dangerous white teeth in the darkness. One creature recognizes another. The boy approached him with the cockiness and swagger of the privileged. Draco knew who he was. Pantheras Parkinson, son of Porphyrius Parkinson, who is the brother of Pandora Parkinson. Thus, Pansy Parkinson’s cousin. Pantheras took a seat, uninvited, at Draco’s table. Draco leveled him with his piercing gray eyes, knowing this boy could not see his features in the dark. Pantheras definitely held the stamp of the Parkinson lineage. Blue-black, glossy hair, that fell in waves rather than curls, deep, sapphire eyes rimmed with lush, dark lashes long enough to be a girl’s, and pale, smooth skin the color of new cream…but, no, this boy was not beautiful. Not yet. His limbs were long and colt-like, having not yet been fully grown into, his mouth seemed awkward on his face, but Draco knew, one day, it would behold a cruel smile made for pleasure and wickedness, and his movements were an echo of grace, rather than the real thing. One day, he would be beautiful. One day, but not this day. That being said, Draco knew, without a doubt, that this boy, this Pantheras Parkinson, had taken the long vacant seat of his throne as Slytherin Prince. Draco’s smile deepened, his eyes becoming dark and knowing. One creature recognizes another. “Who are you,” Pantheras inquired, his voice deceptively soft, a strange lilt to his words that Draco tried to place, “to imply that we are too loud?” Draco, his eyes never leaving the boy’s face, waited for Janarius to give the boy his coffee, before speaking. “C’est impoli pour s’asseoir sans l’invitation, Pantheras,” Draco replied, suddenly remembering that Porphyrius had moved his family to France during Voldemort’s rise to power. That was the lilt he had heard in the boys voice. English exposed to fluent French for far too long. “Did Porphyrius never teach you that?”Pantheras smirked. “You know my father?”Draco gazed at him, but did not answer. He did not need to. Pantheras glanced down at the manuscript he was reading. His lip curled. “Being a Muggle-lover could get you killed in these parts, Wizard,” the boy said, gesturing to his book. Draco smiled again. Arrogance and ignorance, all in one pretty little head. How perfect. It seemed that his life had nearly spiraled out of control while the world kept on moving. Draco used to be this boy. “Not today, it won’t,” Draco replied, shifting in his seat to allow a beam of filtered light to fall across his face.The boy gasped when he saw the lightning bolt scar. His eyes widened as he took in Draco Malfoy’s flaxen hair, cold, gray eyes, and pointed features; a physical stamp of his own lineage; the legacy of Malfoy and Black poured into their last remaining Scion, the true Pureblood, Draconus Lucius Malfoy. “Here is your bill, Mr. Malfoy,” Janarius murmured, approaching the table once again and handing it to him. Draco accepted it with a curt nod, his eyes still trained on the boy’s face, his piercing gaze boring into the startled, sapphire depths of this new Slytherin Prince. Abruptly, Pantheras stood to his feet, bowing low at the waist, muttering something about his gratitude for the coffee, and quickly retreated to where his friends were seated. Pantheras spoke to his teammates in a low voice and soon they left, casting apprehensive glances towards Draco’s shadowy corner and significantly less noisily than in which they had arrived. Draco glanced once at Janarius, who beamed back at him appreciatively, and then peered back down at the document in his hands. “There will be time…”~~ Took the path that led to existence…Into the great unknown… No Directory Assistance…Now you’re on your own… But if you’re looking for a new world…Just open up your eyes… Because…Its not quite paradise…But it sure feels like home… Not quite Paradise…And we were meant to hold on… It’ll be alright…No, it’s not quite Paradise… Draco undid the clasp at his throat that fastened his traveling robes about his shoulders and handed the cloak to Slightly, who had appeared at her Master’s knee. “Thank you, Slightly,” Draco said in a tired voice. He wished it would rain. “Has Harry owled yet?”“Slightly has received an owl from Harry Potter, Master,” Slightly responded solemnly, folding her Master’s cloak over one scrawny arm. “Harry Potter instructed Slightly not make dinner. Harry Potter instructed Slightly to tell Master that he will be home at sundown.” Home. That word never failed to tug a wry smile from the corner of Draco’s mouth. “Thank you, Slightly. Are my dress robes prepared?”“Yes, Master. Slightly has them pressed and ready in Master’s bedroom.”“Thank you,” Draco repeated, rubbing his palm against his eyes. “That will be all.”With a crack, Slightly disappeared, leaving Draco Malfoy standing in the foyer of his new home.Home indeed. For the first few weeks after Harry Potter’s recovery, Draco Malfoy had all but disappeared within Gringotts vaults, poring over his inheritance and making certain adjustments. True to his word, Draco sold Malfoy Manor and sent the funds to Molly and Arthur Weasley with the contact information of a trusted financial planner but with no explanation. At first, Molly had adamantly refused, attempting to send the money back. When Harry Potter had caught wind of this through his partner, Ronald Weasley, the young Auror had gone straightaway to the Burrow to explain Draco’s wishes, knowing full well that Draco was stubborn and even more stubborn when it came to explaining himself. Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger married on the twenty-second of November and Harry had forced Draco to attend the ceremony. Hermione had proved to be quite a vision in white, but had spoiled the image by bursting into tears when Draco presented them with her wedding gift: The Malfoy Library. By this time, Draco’s strange generosity to the Weasley’s had been well-spread and met with a certain degree of scrutiny and, so too, had his penchant for refusing to explain why. So, Hermione had proceeded to throw herself at the Malfoy Scion, wrapping him in a suffocating embrace, and sobbing words of thanks. Draco Malfoy had had the grace to return the embrace, if not the fervor. If Draco remembered correctly, they would have returned from their honeymoon last week. Maximus Cure had disappeared from the Ministry the day of the exorcism and had not been heard from since. Most assumed Blaise Zabini had something to do with it, but the charming, golden-eyed Pureblood was never convicted and a formal pardon for his actions during and after the war was scheduled for the following month of May. Harry gave up drilling Draco for clues to Cure’s location after about a month, finally deciding that even if the former Slytherin Prince actually did know, he would never say. It frustrated the young Auror, but Harry came to the conclusion that he may not even have the heart to arrest the wily outlaw even if he did find him. For some evasive reason, they were all quite fond of Maximus Cure. Draco Malfoy had personally escorted Father Ernst Alt back to Germany. At the end of it, Alt had looked kindly at the Malfoy Scion and kissed his brow, murmuring something in Aramaic Draco did not understand. Draco had promised to teach himself the dead language simply to translate those final words. The priest had laughed and embraced him, accepting the letter of gratitude Draco had written to the Vatican that he was quite sure Alt would never deliver. Technically, Alt wasn’t allowed to perform an exorcism without the Vatican’s consent. However, they both knew the letter was Draco’s way of silently thanking the priest for his efforts, without whom, Draco Malfoy would surely have lost his soul. The Parkinsons and the Zabinis worked diligently to aid Draco Malfoy in re-establishing himself within Pureblood circles; though, if truth be told, the Malfoy Scion had enough prestige to last twenty lifetimes after destroying Lord Voldemort, surviving American Muggles, outwitting Ministry Officials to release Harry Potter from further scrutiny as an incompetent Auror, and resisting the alleged Son of Lucifer. Whether Maul, the Black Tulpa that had attempted to posses his body, was the Son of Lucifer or not, Draco Malfoy would never say. The Malfoy Scion would not even speak the demon’s name. Maul had left a dark shadow forever etched onto his soul, had caused a wound to crack open and bleed anew. There was never a day when he didn’t sorely wish for rain or the scent of beeswax. There wasn’t a single moment when he didn’t yearn for the peaceful oblivion of endless nothingness, for the blaze of ceaseless white. There was never a time where he watched the sun dawn bright and clear over the horizon and wished it were the first day of spring, imagining he could feel his mother’s cool embrace and her soft lullaby whispering in his ear. Yes, Maul had indeed left His handprint on his soul; and for that, he would never give Him such respect as to say His name, or to claim He was the Son of the Devil himself. Maul didn’t deserve a single thought in Draco’s mind, and he refused to give Him one. However, when all was said and done, it took months of endless dinner parties and informal celebrations for Draco to be able to walk into a room without setting a brushfire of whispers in his wake. But Draco Malfoy had braved the worst of the storm until it had subsided. Now, Wizards and Witches, Pureblood or no, avert their eyes in his presence, whether out of fear or respect, he was never sure. And whenever he looked away, awe shone through their lowered lashes like some morbid beacon. Often, Draco would attempt to convince Harry to come with him as he danced the endless waltz of the Socialite, but Harry only conceded a time or two. If there was one thing that made Harry more uncomfortable than standing on ceremony, Draco had yet to figure it out. However, when he did come, Draco always felt that he could walk through any brushfire of whispers, no matter the annoying admiration, no matter the hushed tones of awe. With Harry Potter at his side, Draco always felt safe, always felt protected. Harry would always stare back at the sea of faces with those blazing green eyes of his, daring anyone to judge, daring anyone to say it wasn’t right, and they would always shrink back from it and hold their tongue. Always.Draco supposed it was from a lifetime of weathering the press, that resilience of his. The Daily Prophet had been the harshest on Harry Potter; especially after it became evident they were buying a house together. The scandal, sadly, wasn’t over, despite the warring opinions of Harry Potter’s heroism and Harry Potter’s lack of morals. However, Harry Potter, being Harry Potter, ignored it with such gravitas and stoicism that Draco held a new-found respect for his lover. They bought Trysthold Manor on the twelfth of September, when the trees were just beginning to turn and the forest around the large house looked as if it were afire. Draco had picked it because of the land it sat on, knowing it would be perfect for Harry. Acre upon acre of fields and forests offered plenty of flying room for a restless Harry Potter when he returned from a day at the Auror’s Division. Harry had agreed on it when he saw the manor itself was large and luxurious enough to sate most of Draco’s needs. For the first month, it was just a house. By the second month, it had become a home. Draco smiled to himself and strode towards the curving staircase that led to the west wing and to their bedroom. Draco ran his hand through his hair and thought he would take a bath before Harry came home. He hadn’t seen him in nearly a week because of some mission the Ministry had sent him on and Draco missed him terribly. Tonight, the Ministry was holding some sort of award ceremony for the Auror’s Division and Draco had received the invitation on Wednesday. Thinking it was because they were going to give his lover yet another bar to decorate his Auror’s robes, he had accepted. Draco had yet to see Harry really get his due as an Auror--because, really, Harry Potter was quite good at what he did for a living--so he was not going to miss this chance. Draco only hoped Harry was up to it. Harry was often bone-weary when he came home from long missions. ~~ Tomorrow’s an allusion…Yesterday’s a dream…Today is absolution… But you got to let it be… If you’re looking for the answer…It’s right before your eyes… Although it’s…Not Quite Paradise…It sure looks like home…Not quite Paradise…And we are not alone… It’ll be alright…No, it’s not quite…Paradise… Though the water grown tepid and the numerous candles burned lower and lower, dripping wax in long, long lines down the sides of the expansive bathtub, Draco’s skin was warm and flush from his lengthy soak and opted to stay in the water a little longer. Sweat beaded his pale forehead, tinged a light pink from the heat, and trickled down the side of his face. The flickering light from the dozens of candles surrounding him swam in his gaze. Draco closed his eyes and submerged himself fully in the cooling water, attempting to drown out the sound of his mother’s lullaby. He floated, seeming weightless, his platinum locks swirling around his face and neck in a teasing caress. His chest began to burn, his lungs timidly requesting air. Draco straightened his back, allowing his head and shoulders to surface. Keeping his eyes closed, he breathed in deeply through his nose...and smiled. The scent of freshly oiled, clean, Quidditch leather.Draco opened his eyes and peered up at Harry Potter through wet lashes. He stood there, leaning slightly on the doorframe, with arms crossed and a look in his eyes that was grave and musing. Draco did not bother pressing into his lover’s thoughts; he knew what he must look like. The bathroom was dark and the flickering flames from the candles danced light upon his glistening skin. Draco rose, dripping, from the bath, accepting the towel Harry handed him. He could feel his lover’s eyes on him as he dried off and wrapped himself in a bathrobe. When Draco finally turned his gaze back to Harry’s face, his brilliant green eyes seemed to be searching for something. Draco let him search, standing perfectly still and relaxed under Harry’s unwavering gaze. There was a new virtue Draco had found in Harry during these past five months that the former Slytherin Prince had not previously been aware of: Patience. They both wore physical scars, no one could gainsay that. Draco Malfoy held the mark of the Horcrux Scar, which he had forcibly taken from the Boy-Who-Lived to simultaneously defeat Voldemort and save Harry Potter from certain death. The same scar, in fact, that had proved to save their lives again and again. Harry Potter bore a scar that divided the length of his torso. It began at the Auror’s hip and curved up his center to end in a jagged point where the right side of his collarbone met the vein in his throat. This scar Draco had personally given him. First, when he had consented—and, some would say, manipulated—to Harry Potter braving his spheres of magic to battle Maul, Sword to demon-claw. And, second, when Draco used the might of the Horcrux Scar to heal the gaping wound in his chest that Maul had dealt him before Harry succeeded in casting the Black Tulpa from said spheres. However, the scars they bore, the scars most forgot about or held a complete ignorance of, were the deep-rooted ones that still lay fresh upon their hearts and souls. The scars that no one could see but them. The scars that hurt the most. Whatever Maul had spoken to Harry during their battle still haunted the young Auror’s dreams. Some of it, they had spoken of. The rest, Harry kept to himself. Draco loved him enough to respect that, and did not pry. The Hearing had not seemed to daunt the young Auror, but Draco knew the malicious stares some gave him at the Ministry still bothered him. These things, too, were spoken of in private. However, the one scar that burned Harry’s heart the most, the one he seldom spoke of, was the scar dealt to him by Cruent Mantle. There was a part of Draco that understood. Draco understood the pain in Pansy Parkinson’s deep, blue eyes whenever she looked his way when she thought Draco wasn’t paying attention. Draco understood the need to understand the truth and the bitter cruelty of knowing he never would; especially when Draco thought of his father and wondered if the man ever really did love him. That being said, there was a definite part Draco did not understand. And this part was left for Harry to work out on his own. Sometimes, there are demons only you can deal with. This was one such demon. Now, Draco…Maul had not lied, the demon had indeed left His handprint on his soul. Yes, there was that constant yearning for the scent of fresh rain and beeswax, for brilliant white, and the comfort of a mother’s lullaby, but there was also the shadow that was engrained deep within him. No longer was it a coiled snake hissing quietly in the center of his being, but it was a definite presence, a lingering afterthought of apathy, guilt, and grief. Contending with this shadow often pushed Draco into fits of depression, until a rainstorm or Harry Potter himself would forcibly jolt him out of it. However, Harry Potter was patient. He would sooth, give space when it was needed, a sunny smile, and a plate of burned eggs—whatever it took. Most of all, Harry was there. He had become, gratefully, the one constant in Draco Malfoy’s life. The one who Draco’s sneer and snarl did not spurn or force away. Harry Potter was the one who remained the bright thought in his mind, the center of his best memories, and the one who reminded Draco of who he really was. Once, after a long night of lovemaking, Draco had asked why. Harry, surprisingly, had responded: “The scent of pine, Draco. And sandalwood. And frankincense. And something…else.” Then he had smiled and fallen asleep. To this day, Draco had no idea what he had meant. Somehow, however, Draco found that it didn’t matter. Not really. Harry’s gaze shifted, the shadow lifted from the green of his eyes, making them seem brighter. Harry smiled. Harry made a small movement with his hand and Draco went to him. Their kiss was long and thoughtful. They didn’t have to say “I missed you.” To them, it was an obvious thing. “You’re coming, right?” Harry asked as they parted. He wanted to go? Draco said instead: “Of course.”Harry kissed him again. “I need to shower. I’ll be ready in five.”~~ Somewhere from edge of time…Where the blue sky is stale… And words don’t rhyme…I’ll call you up and say…We made it okay… They arrived at the Ministry ten minutes after seven, snowflakes from the blizzard outside still clinging to their dark robes. Harry had taken quite longer than five minutes to get ready. And still, Draco mused, he manages to look as if he combed his hair with a sock. The ceremony, apparently, had been awaiting their arrival to begin. There was a small stage with a modest podium surrounded by hundreds of rounded, clothed tables. Seated at the tables were Ministry Officials, Division Heads, the entire Auror’s Division, the press, and an odd assortment of other people. Hermione and Ron Weasley were there, seated with the rest of the Weasley family near the stage. The Zabinis were there, and, so too, were the Parkinsons. Draco spotted Pantheras and sent him a mocking nod of his head. His face reddened, but the new Slytherin Prince nodded back. An echo of grace, rather than the real thing. Luna Lovegood sat near Madame Comfrey and Headmistress McGonagall. His godfather was there too. If it weren’t for this particular table, Draco Malfoy would never have become suspicious. Harry smiled at him again and led them to their table. Draco narrowed his eyes, the fact that Harry Potter knew exactly where it was that they were to be seated not at all lost on him. Minister Scrimgeour approached the podium and began to speak. Draco, who was attempting to level Harry Potter with his eyes, turned finally to listen. “Four years ago, the Wizarding World was nearly engulfed under the oppression of a mad tyrant called Lord Voldemort,” Scrimgeour began. “After his defeat, we experienced an uneasy peace wherein the Ministry of Magic worked diligently to rebuild our society, create ties with the Muggle World as a decent foreign policy, and bring justice to remnants of the Dark Lord’s terrible army.“Out of the ashes of that war sprung a new threat. A Prophecy was brought to our awareness and, with it, a Host marked for the possession by the Black Tulpa, who had given Lord Voldemort the secret to the Seven Keys of Immortality and thereby aided the Dark Lord in his rise and fall of ultimate power over our world. “This Tulpa was bound to spur the End of Days into motion and, if He had succeeded, we would have been powerless against it.”The Minister paused. “However, the Auror’s Division and, in fact, much of the Ministry as an entirety, with the aid of the fine Wizards and Witches teaching our students at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was able to thwart this Maul, the Black Tulpa and prevent its dark vision from coming into fruition under the command of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. And with the aid of Father Ernst Alt, we were able to exorcise this demon back to Hell.”At this point, Draco expected applause. But, no; even as he looked around, the room remained quiet and attentive and Harry, seated beside him, continued to smile. “After five months, sadly, this epic tale has already been re-constructed into some kind of over-exposed myth,” Scrimgeour continued. “We knew this would, inevitably, happen. It is the way of things. But we remember. And this tale, so real to those seated here, will always be evermore than memory.“Five months ago, a week after the successful exorcism, an Auror approached me, his demeanor heavy with this knowledge. “He claimed there was an even bigger tale; a mightier tale that should never be forgotten.”Draco raised a fair brow and glanced towards Ronald Weasley, assuming this was who the Minister meant. “This tale was of a boy who fought against a great tyrant and was forgotten. It was a tale about a man who fought against an even greater tyrant and was, again, forgotten. In truth, people recognize him and whisper in awe. But their awe springs from seeds of disbelief and half-truths. They could never believe the lengths to which this man had gone nor the demons he had fought against and prevailed.”Draco had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. This was getting a bit dramatized. “Tonight, we honor the tale. Tonight we honor the boy who defeated Lord Voldemort—“Wait. Draco narrowed his eyes. “Tonight we honor the man who resisted the Black Tulpa with dignity and poise. Tonight we honor the incredible magic he possesses and the honor with which he uses it. Tonight, we wish to award Draco Malfoy the Order of Merlin.”Draco blinked slowly as a deafening eruption of applause and cheering sounded around him and rang off the walls. Harry, damn him, was still smiling at him; only, now, his eyes were laughing as well. Somewhere in the back of your mind…When you see your dream has come to life…And the world just fades away… You’ll know its okay... It’s going to be okay… “Tonight was supposed to be about you,” Draco hissed. “How long have you known about this?!”Harry laughed his deep rich laugh. “Suck it up, you pansy. You deserve this.”“But—““Get your arse up there.”Draco rose on shaking legs and had to fight to keep an outwardly calm demeanor—something that was usually as natural to him as breathing but now seemed to evade him. Few things surprised Draco Malfoy, but when they do—and they sometimes do--the shock never lingers. He smiled graciously and it was gone. He approached the podium. He gazed out at the sea of faces smiling and cheering back up at him and felt that dry, bittersweet, resigned, and wry hope he discovered in the Love Song sitting in Janarius’ Java that morning well up in him. Someone placed a gold chain with a large, circular medallion hanging from it around his neck and he smiled again, this one less gracious and more bemused. His piercing grey eyes sought and found Pantheras Parkinson, who stared up at him with something akin to worship. The world really did seem to move on, if he kept pace with it or not. In light of his ordeal, it seemed like some cruel parody, a joke at his expense. But then, there would be time. There would be time, there would be time. Draco glanced over to Harry, whose brilliant green eyes had turned soft. A terrible, wonderful love shone forth from them like a beacon and Draco knew Harry felt it too. A cruel parody, a joke at their expense. But they would keep up; they could keep pace with the world. All they needed was a little time. And there would be time. Plenty of it. Draco felt a true, honest smile twist his lips and he had to suppress the urge to laugh. Now, Draco Malfoy had himself the Order of Merlin. Eat that, Lucius. Ha! It certainly was not a blaze of ceaseless white or the cool embrace of his mother’s arms. He definitely couldn’t smell rain or beeswax, or even hear his mother’s soft lullaby. No, it wasn’t quite Paradise. But it would certainly, definitely, most undoubtedly do. He could spend a lifetime in Harry Potter’s arms. He could choose to be happy. If he could resist the Son of Lucifer, he could assuredly do that. Someone was saying something to him, but a pair of brilliant green eyes drowned out everything else. Draco stepped down from the podium and walked on sure legs towards Harry Potter. Upon reaching him, Draco placed his hands on either side of his face, tipped the Auror’s head back, and kissed him for all he was worth. Harry laughed against his mouth and embraced Draco tightly, the Order of Merlin trapped between them. One door closed, another opened. Such was the way of things. The air smelled of pine and Quidditch leather. And it made sense. Somehow. But it’s not quite Paradise…But it sure feels like home… Not quite paradise…We can make this place our own… Not quite paradise…We were meant to hold on… Not quite paradise…We don’t have to be alone… We can make this place our own… ~~The End. **Lyrics from Not Quite Paradise by BlissC’est impoli pour s’asseoir sans l’invitation (French) means “It is rude to seat yourself without an invitation.”
10076918	Victory Ball	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Draco Malfoy, Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Seamus Finnigan, Severus Snape, Dean Thomas", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by marapotter [archived by HPFandom_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2006-07-20T00:00:00", "words": "1,858", "Additional Tags": "Sexual Content, Alternate Universe, Romance", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley", "Series": null, "Collections": "HPFandom", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "M/M, Gen, F/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	A/N: I dont own this and its all in fun.Victory Ball It was twos weeks to the day that Harry Potter had killed the Dark Lord and almost all Death Eaters were locked up in prison or on trail. In just a few days there would be a ball to celebrate, and Harry was shocking his entire house by already having a date and looking forward to the ball. Surprisingly enough none of his dorm mates seemed to notice him sneaking out of the dorm everynite. Right now Harry and Ron were on there way to find Herm for dinner. "Harry, where are you going? We need to go to the library and drag Herm down to the Great Hall for dinner." Ron asked as they were walking down the stairs. "Oh, huh, what? Sorry Ron, just thinking about the ball. Aren't you and Herm going together?" Harry replied. "Harry we told you that last week. Where has your mind been? And when are you going to tell us who you date is? I really wanna know, and since when are you happy about a dance, last time you hated it." "Yeah, sorry bout that Ron. No I'm not going to tell you who I'm going with, we've been dating for a while almost a year and a half and its been a secret for a reason. Everyone will find out Saturady at the Ball not before. And don't think I'm going to tell you because you are my best friend. It's our secret to tell and we will tell it together." With that Ron shut up since he didn't want to piss Harry off. Not to mention there had been rumors the past year about Harry being gay and no one knew if it was true and if it was there were plenty of guys that would be pissed that someone said some shit to their boyfriend. He just hoped it wasn't a certain blonde Slytherin or any Slytherin for that matter. They stopped at the library to find Hermione hidden by books, who had to be picked up by Harry before she would agree to go eat dinner. All through out dinner Harry snuck glances over to the Slytherin Table hoping to catch a certain blondes attention. When he finally did they both nodded saying that Harry would sneak out again tonight. Unfortunately Hermione happened to catch them at it. But didn't say anything in front of Ron, since he was bound to explode about it. She decided though that once back in the common room she was going to corner Harry about it and find out what was going on between him and Malfoy. "Harry, come up with me to your room and talk. NOW." Hermione said as soon as dinner was over and they returned to the common room. All the guys looked at Harry as though he was about to face Voldemort again but with no wand. Even Harry looked a little worried. "Sure Herm, you lead the way." Harry replied as he nodded to the guys assuring them he would be fine. "Harry, what is there between you and Malfoy and don't say nothin either. I saw you two look at each other across the Hall tonight and I want to know and you are going to tell me or I'll tell Ron that the rumors are true that your gay and let him and the rest of the guys argue with you until they make you tell them who your dating. Not to mention I know you've been sneaking out. Now what is going on?" "Herm how did you fin out? No one was suppose to know until Saturday. We had been keeping it a secret because of his father, more than Voldemort finding out. Please don't tell anyone ok. And yes I'm sneaking out again before you say anything and Snape knows so if I suddenly leave earlier than usual or say its a detention he is my cover. Now can you please leave so I can finish this potions homework before I see Draco later? Thanks so much." Harry said as he basically pushed Hermione out of the room. * * * * * Friday night Harry was sneaking out when Ron was waking from a nightmare and noticed Harry grabbing his Invisiblity cloak but not the map. After Harry left Ron took out the map and ran after Harry, as soon as Harry got to the Great Hall Ron finally noticed the dot 'Draco Malfoy' standing next to him. Ron, suspicious as always of Slytherins, followed them. What he saw made him mad, madder than he had ever been at Harry for keeping a secret. He witnessed them kissing and cuddling under a blanket staring up at the moon and stars whispering and trading kisses. At one point Ron finally decided he had seen enough and ran back into the castle, knowing who it was Harry was taking to the Ball. Once back in Gryffindor Tower he saw Hermione glaring at him, which surprised him. His girlfriend never glared at him when he followed Harry, the glare was always aimed at Harry. "Um, Herm why are you glaring at me? I just found out that my best friend is dating Malfoy. What do you think of that?" Ron asked thinking he knew something that his girlfriend didn't for once. Little did he know. "Ron, I've known since monday about them and if you say anything to Harry about it or argue with him over it I will dump you and never speak to you again. Is that clear Ronald? Harry is finally free to be happy and enjoy his life and you are not about to ruin this for them by arguing and fighting about it. It's Harry's life so he makes the decisions not you or me." "But Herm-" "Don't even think about Ronald. I am tempted to dump you right now if you wont at least try to be happy for Harry, think of what all he lost in the past few years. He deserves this, he never had a childhood and we were always trying to keep him safe well he's grown up let him make his own decisions." "Alright Herm you win. I'll behave around Malfoy tomorrow if only because I don't want to lose you."* * * * * Saturday came and at 7:30 Harry was waiting at Snape's office for Draco to show up. They had agreed to meet there since it was close to the Great Hall and it would look as though Harry was stopping by for a potion or that Draco needed to ask his Godfather something real quick. At the moment Harry and Severus were standing by the door talking about Harry's scar slowly fading away when the door opened and Draco Malfoy walked in. "Hey baby, Severus. Ready to go shock everyone?" Draco said as he walked into the room. "Sure, we definately are gonna make one crazy entrance, considering I'm in Slytherin colors, and Sev here is in a nice dark almost midnight blue instead of black and you my angel are in light blue and silver. You look perfect Draco, too bad all the girls lost you to me. And if anyone tries to take you from me they will not be a happy camper in the hospital." "Draco, Harry does have a point you do look nice. And to think Harry picked out the colors for us to wear. He does have fashion sense after all, and yes everyone is going to be as surprised by our clothing as they will be by the two of you walking in together. So shall we go and scare the rest of Hogwarts?" And with that they left the office to go to the Ball. All the while Severus was in front of the two love birds, ready to shock the students and staff first before the real scare came. As soon as they got to the Great Hall, everyone got quiet at the sight of the Potions Professor in anything but black, even Dumbledore was surprised. Then when he stepped out of the way there were many gasps of surprise and a few hateful looks shot towards Harry and Draco. This really didn't surprise Draco at all considering that most considered him the sex God of their year, while Harry was the Golden Boy and wasn't suppose to be gay in most people's opinion. Harry stopped for a moment when he saw a few looks of hatred from some of the guys from his house and a few of the girls. "Well, baby I think we shocked them and by the looks of most Gryffindors we may want to avoid them. You do realize that if they start shit with you, you can come to my private room in the dungeouns, maybe even move in for the rest of the year." Draco whispered in Harry's ear as they started to walk towards the table near the front of the Hall that was for Harry and his date, since Harry had to make a speech. "Your right Angel, and I am definately at this point thinking of taking you up on the offer of moving in with you. I really don't like the looks on Seamus and Dean's faces, that look is never a good sign. Hopefully they wont start anything here, maybe Herm will beable to control them if not then I'm moving in tonight." Harry said as they sat down still holding hands. "Welcome to the Victory Ball, before we start the music Mr. Potter is going to tell you all the reason behind this Ball. Mr. Potter if you would please." Dumbledore said with his eyes twinkling like mad. "Ok, the main reason for this Ball is because Voldemort is gone. With the help of Professor Snape and Draco Malfoy I was able to defeat him once and for all. And if anyone wants to start something with Draco they will have to deal with me because I love him and I don't care what you think of him I know the truth. Prof. Snape can deal with it by detentions but DO NOT mess with me or Malfoy unless you want to be on the recieving end of my wand like Voldemort was. So with that cleared up before I got yelled at lets have fun and dance and celebrate out freedom." Harry said before anyone could start in on him about Draco. "Well that was definitely one way to keep them from yelling at you and me both Harry, thanks. And I love you too. Would you agree to Bond with me when we graduate Harry?" Draco asked as Harry sat back down, holding out a ring for him if he said yes. "Yes, Angel yes I will bond with you. Now all I have to do is get the Minister to sign my little proposal for Marriage to all people in the Wizarding world no matter sex or blood. We can be bonded and Married. Oh I love you Draco Malfoy." "I love you too Harry Potter."
10051571	Dudleys Nineteen Years	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter, Petunia Evans Dursley, Vernon Dursley, Dudley Dursley, Original Character", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Duochanfan", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2007-09-14T00:00:00", "words": "702", "Additional Tags": "Spoilers", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "HPFandom", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "Other, Gen", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter. This is a none slash or mpreg fic, it follows Canon, to Death Hallows. When you read the book and read the Nineteen years later didn’t you wonder what happened to the Dursley’s, read and find out. This was helped along using The Almost Totally Random Writing Exercise Generator. The Prompts were Write for 25 Minutes/ A Police Officer/ Lost in my Memories Enjoy! Dudley’s Nineteen Year Later Nineteen years later Dudley Dursley had gone on with his education after leaving Smeltings. He had lost weight and got in shape so he could do what he had wanted to do since he was a child. It was not long after his twenty-fourth birthday that he had met a lovely young lady and had eventually married her a year after meeting, Eliza was wonderful wife and mother to their two children, Mathew and Iris. Now he was thirty-six and working as a Police Sergeant in the Walsall Police department. Dudley was standing outside on his lunch break when he thought back nineteen years, to the day he shook the hand of his Cousin Harry Potter. He smiled briefly, that handshake had meant a lot to him when it happened. It had signalled a change that Dudley knew he would have to go through, to grow up and become the man he hoped and dreamed he could be.When Dudley had first joined the Police Force, he had been just another officer on the beat, but when he was promoted four years ago, he was given a test and then a question was put to him. Did he know of the Wizarding World? When he answered yes, he was given a special assignment, he would be working with a Wizard from the Auror Corps, the Wizarding Worlds version of the Police. He often wondered what would have happened if he had said no.To his shock the Wizard that had walked in was familiar, it was his cousin Harry Potter. It had been a surprise for both of them, but Dudley had welcomed the chance to try and get to know his cousin for the first time in his life. He had found out about Harry getting married to a young witch called Ginny Weasley, and about their three children, James, Albus and Lily. Dudley had then told Harry about his own wife and his two children, Mathew who was four at the time and Iris who was a temperamental two year old.That was not the only thing that Dudley was to tell Harry, the other thing was that Dudley thought that Mathew maybe be a wizard. He had made things change, like when he wanted some ice cream but was given jelly, it had changed to ice cream. Dudley could tell that Harry was worried about his son, but he assured his cousin that he was happy about it. Dudley was wondering about Iris as well, as she had often gotten out of her cot or playpen when no one was around.They kept in touch over the years, and had often gone to see each other outside of work. Dudley had confirmed that Iris was a witch and was looking forward to when Mathew would be getting his letter to go to Hogwarts. Dudley had already started a saving account so that he money to send them both. He had told Eliza about the Wizarding World, she was disbelieving at first, until Ginny had talked with her and showed her a few charms and transfiguration spells.Vernon and Petunia had stopped visiting when Dudley had told them that Mathew was a Wizard, and that he had made things happen like Harry had. It had only worsened when he had told them that Iris might be a witch as well. That was confirmed when Eliza had seen Iris levitate her toys, His parents had not spoken to them since. Dudley was upset about the rift, but he had a life to get on with, and that was what he would do. The End Well what did you all think, was it okay? If you see any mistakes tell me about them so I can fix them.
1040280	The Way To A Mans Heart	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Castiel", "Fandom": "Supernatural", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by thepizzasitter", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-11-11T00:00:00", "words": "5,059", "Additional Tags": "Destiel - Freeform, tummy aches, Hurt/Comfort, Human Castiel, Bunker Fic, Cas is learning to be human, and it's not going as well as he anticipated, Star Wars - Freeform, Dean is Han Solo basically, or he likes to think he is sometimes, Dean rubs Cas's tummy after he eats too much, Tumblr Prompt, Porn, Smut, Protective Dean Winchester, Dean is accommodating and sweet on Cas", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Castiel/Dean Winchester, Destiel", "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 }	Dean glanced over at his friend, watching the food he'd cooked disappear at an alarming rate, and frankly that was saying something coming from him. Hell, there hadn't been an eating contest he couldn't handle while growing up, and it had carried through into adulthood."Dude, take it easy. It'll still be there after you chew and swallow. I'm not touching it, I made it for your hungry ass," Dean said, raising a brow when Cas's hands stilled for a moment."My apologies, Dean. I am unused to needing sustenance, and it has been...some time since I was last able to eat," Cas murmured, looking down at his plate guiltily, like it was his fault he hadn't eaten a decent meal in way too long. "This food is also very pleasing to taste."Dean stood abruptly, shuffling for a moment before he walked away, grumbling about flattering dudes who had long given up on cooking and chick flick moments. He went over to the fridge to dig out something for himself and came to sit with the ex-angel, who had quickly gone back to wolfing down as much food as possible. The hunter sighed and shook his head. "Alright, but don't come crying to me when you get sick 'cause you ate too much."Which was exactly what he did several hours later after Dean had parked himself in front of the T.V. in his room, watching some of the awful old movies stored in the bunker. It was nice to be mindless every once in a while, and these things were so bad it was pretty effortless to let himself drift in a guiltless blank space where he could easily fall asleep if he wanted to."Hello, Dean."A voice drew him from his lazy stupor, and he glanced blearily over at the clock, which cheerfully informed him it was too late-or early-for anyone to be up."Cas?" He asked stupidly, and squinted at his friend. "The fuck, man? What's wrong?" He was suddenly a little more alert, but until Cas sounded the alarm on some immediate problem, he wanted to be able go to sleep, thank you very much."I know you requested that I not bother you with...with unease in my stomach, but I have tried to rest for a number of hours and I…" he trailed off, looking lost and in pain and Dean suddenly realized he was clutching his stomach and shaking with the effort to keep upright. Dean grimaced in sympathy, a little amazed at Cas's willingness to be on his feet right now. The guy didn't understand the concept of laying down and bitching until the problem went away.Dean sat up, tired and a little cranky at having his peace interrupted, but this was Cas, and well…He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and went to his bathroom to grab some medicine and a glass of water. He handed them over and watched the angel down them both in one go, making a face at the gritty taste. "Yeah, these things are nasty. You should be able to sleep though, once they kick in." He wondered how the ex-angel had been sleeping. Was it easy for him? Did fear, or guilt, or loneliness keep him up while the bunker was silent but somehow echoing with words unsaid like it did to Dean?"So, uh, guess I'll see you in the morning then." Never mind that he wished Cas would be the first thing he'd see in the morning.It never seemed like a good time to say anything. By the time he'd gotten over his own reluctance and the shit that had been drilled into him about liking dudes, so much had happened that it never seemed appropriate to tell Cas that he'd craved his touch and attention for years now. That if he ever needed to lean on someone, Dean really wanted it to be him, and would welcome the ex-angel into a heart he guarded more fiercely than the gates to heaven. Would willingly do whatever Cas needed to be happy because that had begun mattering more to him than his own comfort a long time ago.The small shift in his friend's stance is what did it. Without moving almost at all, he practically wilted in front of him. His entire demeanor went from grateful and contented, if a little nauseated, to dejected and uneasy, and a whole lot nauseated."Or, you know, you could stay here for a bit." All night, just stay here and be with me. "I was ready to go to bed, but we can watch a movie if you want.""Yes, that would be acceptable," Cas rushed to reply, far too quickly, and Dean's heart thudded a little harder, wondering if the moment had shifted in his favor. Whatever Cas's feelings on the subject were, he'd never know if he didn't man up and at least ask. Even if Cas didn't want him like that, he wasn't going to shame him for it. Hell, the guy hardly knew anything about love or sex or the whole bit even with the recent events.His mind still got stuck on that sometimes, awed and more than a bit jealous, but it wasn't like his record was squeaky clean-not even remotely close.Either way, at worst the ex-angel would be confused and squint at him and tell him he couldn't return the sentiment, and that would be that.It would hurt like hell, but only in the emotional kind of way. Dean was good at burying that shit. But, he needed to give Cas that chance, and if the reaction wasn't rejection...if he told Dean that he-Fuck, he needed to take step back and breathe.He popped a new movie in, picking Star Wars since he wanted Cas to see them anyways, and came back to the bed to settle against the headboard, pretending not to notice the man dithering. He walked in jerky, nearly fearful steps, but valiantly climbed over to Dean, eyes darting around for a place to settle. Dean hadn't given him many options, trying to take up as much space as possible. The hunter closed his eyes to get a hold of himself when Cas said his name quietly, as a question."Figured I could make your stomach ache go away a little faster. Get over here and I'll show you how to settle it easier." No innuendo there, in all reality. His body might be disagreeing, but there could be no step two if Cas was in pain anyways. And making Cas feel better would put his own heart at ease. The guy was so new to this, and it had to be terrifying. Dean wondered what would happen if Cas had the opportunity to get his Grace back, and quickly pushed that from his mind.As it stood, Cas was human, and had no idea what to do about it. He was taking all the advice he could get, apparently, because he settled between Dean's open legs, letting himself be guided by Dean's not shaking hands-he'd swear it-to lie against his chest, facing the T.V. that was beginning to play one of his favorite movies.He wasn't going to see a second of it.The hunter counted to ten, quelling any reaction at being this close to someone, and slowly put his hands on Cas's clothed stomach, giving the man time to react if he wanted to. When he said nothing, Dean started to work his hands in small circular movements. His fingers pressed and kneaded gently, feeling the tension in Cas's belly from eating too much, too fast."You gotta be more careful, Cas. Being human is a lot of really annoying body things. We have to take care of our meatsuits. We only get one," he murmured, laughing a little at the expression Sammy would make at hearing him say that. He'd give bitch-face number eighty three and roll his eyes skyward, throw up his hands and sigh loudly like the drama queen that he was. Pie was an exception. So was booze and cigarettes and burgers and who the hell was he kidding, he was a goddamn hypocrite and it made this even funnier.But Cas just hummed in agreement, not calling him out on it, and let himself relax into Dean's arms. He eased his head onto Dean's shoulder, neck tilted back and bared with more trust than Dean had ever seen anyone do for him. It was making things a lot harder-pun entirely intended-to have Cas's stubble scratching at his neck if he moved his shoulder to slide his hands up and down his friend's sides, trying to focus on making him feel better and not how thin he was, or how the lean corded muscle he could feel under his hands was making his mouth dry.Cas's nose skimmed along his jaw, and Dean's brain short circuited a little when Cas let out a quiet sound as Dean kneaded a new spot on his belly."Uh...you okay, man? Didn't hurt you, did I?"A sleepy noise that was probably disagreement was his only answer, and Cas and brought his own hands up to cover Dean's in a silent request to continue. Dean breathed out, loud to his own ears, and knew that there was no way in hell or heaven he was reading this wrong. Not even an angel-recently stripped of that title or not-couldn't understand this. God, he hoped that was the case."Your hands feel good, Dean," Cas whispered, and fuck that was that. Dean was taking his shot. He didn't stop his hands, just continued to rub Cas's belly, and slowly, carefully tilted his head down a little to press a lingering kiss to the side of Cas's neck. He felt the angel go eerily still, like he had forgotten that humans need to breathe, and he almost apologized, almost lost it and pleaded with his friend to ignore his crazy lapse in judgement.But then Cas leaned his head to the side, giving Dean all the skin he could want, and sighed, melting against the hunter in the most open and willing way he could recall seeing."Yeah?" he asked, voice rasping and overwhelmed, feeling ineloquent and tongue-tied. It didn't matter, though. Cas understood."Yes."A rush of air left Dean's lungs in an instant, and he breathed a relieved 'okay', and kissed under Cas's jaw, ignoring the odd angle to run his hands up the man's throat and caress it while he tilted him back for a kiss. It was all chapped lips and a little uncomfortable with the way his neck was strained, but fuck if it wasn't perfect. It fit, somehow. The awkwardness mixed with the amazing way Cas could take him from zero to sixty in anything he asked for.He broke the kiss to mouth at the shoulder just under the other's open collar while he slid his hands up under Cas's worn out shirt-one of his own that he'd loaned to him for selfish and unselfish reasons alike-to resume his massage, this time directly on skin. The ex-angel moaned a little, legs falling open and if Dean had any less self-restraint, this would be over before he'd accomplish what he wanted to do. He was all for fast and hard and rough, but this…This is what he wanted to have with Cas before all that. He hated the cheesiness of the phrase 'lovemaking' but it didn't taste so sticky when he applied it here. There were enough 'firsts' present here to make worrying about labeling sex seem ridiculous.After a time, he shifted to unbutton Cas's shirt instead, feeling his friend's breath speed up in spite of himself as he watched Dean's fingers make progress on opening the shirt and felt his hips calmly rolling up against the back laying against him, desire evident and Dean wondered what this felt like to Cas, who'd barely begun to explore the part of himself that might want intimacy like this."Your hands are beautiful," Cas said, the compliment startling Dean a little, who was more used to dirty talk in bed than observations like that. He was glad Cas couldn't see the dubious expression on his face.He'd always thought his hands were made for working, not skilled with small tasks or soothing things or shit like that. He could fight with them, and pat people on the back, and grip Sammy's shoulder with them with solidarity, and run them through his hair in agitation, but he couldn't heal with them like Jo and Ellen and Ash. Or make people feel at ease and safe like Sam and Bobby. Or stir up playfulness and gratitude long forgotten like Charlie and Kevin. No, his hands were to protect and defend, but more often than not they hurt the ones he most needed to keep free of pain."You have scars even there," Cas continued, his tone wondering and low and Dean thought he might explode from the weight of his rapidly beating heart. It wasn't unpleasant. "Marked in the least noticeable of places with strength." His breath stuttered when Dean moved lower, running his fingers along the waist of low-slung jeans. "I can feel them when you do that. It feels-they catch on my skin, but they didn't before. Sensation was much more muted in a vessel and not my own body." Dean's hands worked on unbuckling Cas's belt, placing open mouthed kisses along his neck and to the top bone of his spine, hiding the reddened flush that had sprung along his face at the praise he was being given.Well, he supposed dirty talk covered a lot more ground than he'd originally thought."It feels...surprisingly good," Cas rasped, reaching his hands up again to place them over Dean's once more, helping him drag his jeans down to reveal Cas's hard length, already a little slick, and if that wasn't a confidence booster, Dean didn't know what was. His mouth watered at the sight of Cas hard for him, a little surprised at his lack of a freakout. He'd seen naked guys before, hello, he watched porn of all varieties for both pleasure and curiosities sake, but he'd expected needing a bit of time to think about this before he-Cas's cry of need was harsh in a lull of the film when he wrapped his hand around him, and all hesitance flew out the door like a wicked witch on her broom. His only thought was to posses the one he loved and craved, to please him, make him understand how wrecked Dean was for him, and listen to that voice wring out his name when he fell over the edge and came with Dean chasing just behind him.He started an easy pace, thinking about what he liked and figured it was as good a place to start as any."Dean," Cas moaned his name, bringing him back from thoughts of all the things he'd seen and read about and how amazing they might feel with Cas. He stroked a little faster, twisting his wrist a bit on the downturn and feeling emboldened when it made the ex-angel's hips thrust into his grip."I've got you, Cas."And he meant it to the very core of his being. Hell or high water, Cas was with them. For better or worse. And that was sounding too much like marriage for comfort, but the sounds Cas was making were quickly distracting him."Do that again," Cas demanded when Dean pressed his thumb to the tip, teasing the slit and eliciting a whine from his friend's throat. The hunter couldn't help but chuckle."So bossy," he laughed into the soft hair of Cas's head. "I'll never have to wonder what you want." He shifted out from under Cas's back, pressing him to the mattress to lean over him. He sat back on his heels to strip out of his own shirt, making a lazy gesture to his jeans with a quirk of an eyebrow.Cas immediately reached up to try and wrangle the offending garment off, getting frustrated for only a moment before he made an obvious effort to slow down and work them off of Dean, while the hunter did the same for him. Socks followed and suddenly there was more skin to take in than Dean could handle."Holy shit," he breathed, reaching out to touch very slowly, a teasing lightness that had Cas panting, but he couldn't find it in himself to feel bad. He needed a minute.There were scars, Ezekiel had left them in place, saying they were a part of Cas now, in the most honorable way possible, and the contrast of them and Cas's pale skin was mesmerizing. He reached up to touch his chest, curling his index finger around a nipple to harden it while his thumb ghosted over a scar by his heart. Too close for comfort."Dean, please-" Cas whimpered, caught between the worshipful look on Dean's face and the need to be held by him again."You're fucking beautiful, you know that?" Dean asked, lowering himself to lie on top of Cas, fitting together in every perfect way, and hissed at the feeling of slick skin on skin. He undulated his hips, dragging his length along Cas's to feel the pleased moan rumble in the marked up chest. That pink mouth was open and bitten and Dean's mind jumped to everything he wanted to do to it. For now, though, he wanted to taste it. He brushed their lips together, soft for a moment before he pressed a bit more, nipping along the bottom lip and licking into Cas's mouth to play with his tongue. He pulled away for a moment. "Like what you said about my hands except...everywhere."He felt bulky again, embarrassed, and he groaned at his own awful way with words."Yes," Cas moaned, and suddenly Dean felt a little lighter. "I've thought about how you would feel so many times." What the fuck? Dean pressed so hard into Cas with surprise he almost came right there. As it was, he couldn't help but tangle their fingers together against the sheets as he sped up their movements, staring at the man under him with rapt attention and so much love he didn't know how it was fitting in his body."You-""I wondered, in the beginning, about your experience. You were so adamant that I needed to know the delights of the flesh, and it made me think of what you might do or say when with a woman. By the time I truly understood the strange feelings in my stomach, I was wanting to know what if would be like if I was the one you were taking." His breath was coming shorter now, trying to wheeze out the words while his hands helplessly clutched at Dean's hips and ass and gripped at his hair while the hunter bit at his neck and tongued his nipples and licked down his chest and belly and the insides of his wrists and Dean was sinking. He didn't know if he'd ever resurface.Or if he ever wanted to."But it was more than that. We have been bonded for so long, from the moment I flew from Hell with you clutched tightly to me, I did not realize the extent to which I'd taken it for granted. Being able to hear and find you whenever I could, and feeling your soul humming quietly, threaded through my Grace...knowing that you were mine so much so that it didn't matter if I couldn't be with you in every way, so long as I had that…" His voice broke on a sob of Dean's name, and the hunter knew they were both close, so close.He broke pace, slowing down to give them a moment, and listen to the impossibilities that Cas was saying between the keens of desire."Fuck, Cas, I didn't-I don't deserve-" He stopped and just shook his head, reaching a hand between their sweaty bodies to grasp them both, thrusting against this incredible being that he could finally call his own. "You felt it then? When-""My Grace was ripped from my body, and it was your name that tore from my lips," Cas finished the thought. It had hurt, in a muted kind of way, and Dean had brushed it off as an old injury pain, trying to rid himself of the unease that had fallen for a bit.He let out a harsh breath, and reached over to his bedside table, suddenly knowing what he wanted to do for Cas. His fingers found the lube he'd never planned on using for anyone but himself here, and coated his fingers in the slippery gel, watching Cas's expression go dark, daring him with his eyes to have him like this. Dean rubbed his fingers along his entrance, not letting himself think too hard about what he was going to do, and how he didn't have much clue about what he was doing. They'd figure it out, and right now, he was abandoning his plan of keeping it to simple, comfortable frottage and jerking off in favor of giving Cas what he was wanting.The ex-angel pulled him down for a soft kiss, letting the anguish he'd been feeling be tasted by Dean's tongue, finally able to let it go. "Every day since, you have been missing. I was so grateful each time I could make a phone call to you. It reminded me that you still existed, and I would see you just as soon as I could make it to you. I've been...there are no words for how much I've craved feeling you that way. I didn't know I would be so bereft until it was already too-oh!"Cas let out a shaky exhale and a whimper of need when Dean pushed into him with a finger, a little too much at first and Cas recoiled a bit, but Dean readjusted and carefully began to work him open, listening to the telltale signs of when he was making Cas feel good, and when he added a second finger, his friend nearly bucked off the bed with a high keen piercing the air, and Dean stared at him."Holy shit, was that your prostate?" He asked, and wanted to kick himself for the inanity of that question, but jesus fucking christ if that was the response, he might very well reconsider wanting to be the one doing the fucking, so to speak, more often than not. Some self-experimentation was going to be in order very soon."Dean, Dean, please, I'm so close. I want you to-" Cas snapped his mouth closed, gritting his teeth on a moan when Dean kept brushing over that spot with his fingers. He pressed down against them, and Dean didn't know if he should add another, or if that was too much right now, or- "I need to feel you in me again, I have been so lost without knowing for certain that you are mine. And I will not last if you don't do something now."Dean's head was whirling with the dizzy tiredness from before, and the knowledge that he was about to sink into Cas, fuck into the body that had featured in nearly every fantasy he'd had in years.And even better, in the morning he would wake up next to this incredible being, and maybe, if the lamp light cast the right glow and the atmosphere was hazy and dreamlike, he would find the balls to tell Cas that he loved him.Cas's hand took the lube from near his thigh, and squirted some into his palm, rubbing it between his fingers while examining it with interest, before he glanced down to Dean's erection and flushed in obvious anticipation. He licked his lips, keeping eye contact with Dean, and ran his hand along Dean's shaft, unsteady and hesitant in his movements, but Dean had to bite his lip to keep from crying out at the feeling of the warm, wet hand on him."Penetrate me," Cas commanded, and Dean would have laughed out loud if the way Cas had said it hadn't sounded hot as hell. He didn't know when he'd traded all the experience of mind blowing sex with women he'd had in the past for this awkward fumbling with an even more socially challenged ex-angel, but when he pulled Cas in for an earth shattering kiss that held years of longing and desire and love between them, he knew he was ruined for anyone else.He wouldn't want it any other way."How do you want this? The stuff I looked at said it'd be easier the first go-round if you were on all fours…" As amazing as that sounded, he couldn't help but want to see-"I want to watch you when we are joined."Well, that made things a thousand times easier."Okay," he sighed gratefully, not ready to admit wanting the same thing. "Trust me?""Always, Dean."That should not have reverberated through his soul as fervently as it did, but Dean shuddered at the words nonetheless.He eased into Cas's body, realizing with the most hysterically giddy quiver that this was going to rock his world. He was barely in and Cas was hot and tight, gripping him so tightly he wondered if he should have prepared him more, but Cas's breath was shallow, and hitching on sounds bordering between pain and pleasure, so he found the willpower to talk."Cas? You okay, sweetheart? Am I hurt-""Give me a moment," Cas panted, tears leaking from the corner of his eyes and Dean caught one on his tongue on the way down to kiss the ex-angel to try and soothe him. "I was not anticipating it to feel like this."Dean felt useless, trying to figure out if that was a bad thing, and not knowing how to make it better if he was in pain. Suddenly, something in Cas gave way, and the air rushed out of him as he sank fully into the other man's body, pressed chest to chest and oh god oh god it was too much, there was no way he was going to last how the hell did people do this without--"Dean, please!" Cas cried out, desperate, and there was no stopping it anymore. Dean pulled out and thrust in again, trying to gain some sense of which way was up or down, but this was Cas, he was making love with Cas-fuck his wording sensibilities-and he had this man's name etched into his ribs and soul whether he was an angel or a human or anything in between.He set a rapid pace once the other man's face slackened in pleasure, letting him know he was adjusted, and he felt Cas wrap his legs around him, ankles locked around the backs of his thighs, scratching at his back hard enough to send shivers along Dean's spine and fuck Cas had just nailed a kink without realizing it. Cas was trying to hang on and ride out the shudders he could feel with each brush to his prostate, but Dean had no intention of letting him last much longer.He'd gone too long without, and Dean felt himself begin to lose it. He leaned back to brace over Cas, threading the fingers of one hand through the soft hair at the nap of Cas's neck while the other reached between them to stroke Cas in time with his thrusts.Something in Enochian broke the haze of lust, and he realized with a start that it was his name. Cas looked at him through eyes clouded with desire and need and so much love, and he was lost.They came almost simultaneously, the sounds of their names mingled in the heated air, low voices ragged with completion and satisfaction when Dean collapsed over Cas, pressing his face into the neck of his angel-human or not-to try and catch his breath for a long moment. His muscles protested the abuse after a while, though, and he pulled out slowly from the welcoming heat of the spent body under him.He could feel the aftershocks rocketing through them both, so he rolled to pull Cas over him, grabbing the blankets so they were cocooned in an intimate warmth together. He knew his attitude towards their messy state would change in the morning-it was really gross waking up practically sticking to someone, but right now, all he wanted to do was whisper in Cas's ear until they fell asleep."Is it strange to say that our sexual congress was amazing?"Dean chuckled and stroked his hand through the other's sweaty hair, turning his head to let Cas give an open mouthed kiss on his neck. He was learning fast. "Nah, lots of people say that. Don't know why, it usually speaks for itself, but I'm a cocky son of a bitch that likes to know he did his job well, so there's that." He pulled Cas up for a quick kiss."Did I do everything...correctly?""You were incredible, trust me."Cas was silent for a moment. "I think I understand the appeal of hearing that."Dean laughed again, and moved to lie on his side, hand pulling Cas closer by the hip. He could feel the other man tracing sigils along his back and he sighed in contentment. "Is your stomach feeling better?" He asked sleepily, already half-dead to the world."Of course. Your healing skills are really very admirable." A long time passed as they shared easy kisses and snippets of exhausted conversation, until they couldn't keep it up anymore and pressed against each other to nod off.He was just at the edge of oblivion when a voice closer to sleep than his own murmured, "I love you, Dean."He pressed closer to Cas, feeling more at peace than he had been in a long time. Empire Strikes Back was still playing the background, and he grinned, unable to help himself."I know."
1006173	Poetry in Numbers	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Hermann Gottlieb, Vanessa Gottlieb", "Fandom": "Pacific Rim (2013)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by lydiabennett", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-10-16T00:00:00", "words": "2,287", "Additional Tags": "student/teacher relationship but only kinda she's not his student anymore, ugh i just love her so much", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Hermann Gottlieb/Vanessa Gottlieb, Hermann Gottlieb & Vanessa Gottlieb", "Series": null, "Collections": "The Vanessa Gottlieb Appreciation Society", "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 world is ending but people still need underwear. The first time Vanessa Rossi is photographed wearing nothing but a lace bra and matching panties she wonders, briefly, if she should feel degraded, but the only thing she feels is the warm glow of satisfaction in the pit of her stomach when she remembers that this modeling job means that she’s able to pay her tuition.Vanessa is beautiful in that striking way that makes people stop on the street and tell her so, and she’s a certifiable genius and she’s going to write the greatest novel of the new world, if she can just afford to finish her degree. She smiles at the photographers and she feels like she’s on top of the world when they tell her to pop her hip out just so, yes, hand right there, now look right at me—breathtaking, Miss Rossi, absolutely breathtaking.When she goes home she sits down at her desk with a mug of hot chocolate and a smile that lets her forget that outside the walls of her flat the world is breaking, crumbling into a chaos that words can’t collect and shape, and she writes about a darkness so deep it swallows the monsters at their door.———Dr. Gottlieb is famous at the university, and not just because he’s brilliant, not just because he’s terrifying when he wants to be, not just because he can silence and entire class of twenty-somethings with nothing more than the narrowing of his eyes. He’s famous because he’s never had a single student fail his classes, no matter how difficult—famous because no matter how much his students hate math going in to his classes, they come out with a love for numbers etched into their bones.The first time Vanessa fails a quiz in his class is the only time Vanessa fails anything. She sits inside his office for an hour and a half, and he goes over every single equation she doesn’t understand, patiently at first but with a growing fervor that makes her smile. He loves numbers the way Vanessa wants someone to love her someday. “I don’t understand this” is greeted with excitement, and the only thing Vanessa imagines he could ever love so much as numbers is teaching.He asks her what she’s majoring in and she tells him creative writing. “Find poetry in numbers,” he suggests, and after that they become a cadence, a song, and she only needs to connect them.He hands back her next quiz with a smile and her score is one of the best in the class.———Vanessa graduates with half a novel written, three unfinished plays, and more photoshoots than she would have dreamed under her belt. She’s been countesses and vagabonds and scientists and queens and angels and demons and monsters and goddesses, a thousand people she could only imagine and a thousand people she wants to write. She graduates with the fourth highest marks of her class and she writes a speech, one she delivers with all the confidence of the queens on the glossy magazine pages delivered to her door every month with her name emblazoned forever beside the images."I had to learn to balance what I loved with what was real," she says, and her voice rings with authority. She catches Dr. Gottlieb’s eye in the crowd and she smiles; he smiles back, his hands folded over his cane. "I had to learn to balance fantasy with the terrible reality outside. I had to learn to find the poetry in numbers."The world has become terrible, and cruel, and dark, but there’s so much to be found still there. There’s poetry in this tidal wave of destruction and in that poetry there’s hope. It’s written in the very makeup of creation, in the numbers and the letters that build the world." Her eyes are fixed on her professor’s when she adds, on a whim, "Those numbers are the handwriting of God."When he gives her her diploma she shakes his hand and, on a whim, she hugs him. He’s startled by the contact but he doesn’t shoo her away, only smiles and presses her hand with his when she releases him."Write to me," he suggests, and she shakes her head."I’ll write for you,” she promises instead.———One year, four months, and sixteen days pass and Vanessa trashes her novel—sets it on fire, with a pile of printed pages in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other as she feeds her words to the flames roaring in her little fireplace, a veritable inferno devouring a little piece of her soul she doesn’t want anymore. She writes poems instead, and publishes a few in a local literary magazine. I am become Death, she thinks mournfully as she burns the last page of her unfinished novel, and I have consumed a universe.She writes a poem about that, something maudlin and eloquent that she sends to the magazine that night.There are piles on her desk, her bookcase, her coffee table, every flat surface. Books she hasn’t finished reading, magazines with her photographs in them, magazines with her poems and the one short murder mystery she wrote when she was nineteen, and letters.There are, of course, the stack of received letters, from her friends from college and, more frequently, Dr. Gottlieb. He’s being published, and if it’s quite alright with her, he’d love to get her input on the way he’s written the introduction—it’s lacking a certain flow, wouldn’t she agree? The semester-long sabbatical in Vienna has made him utterly despise music for the time being and if he hears that blasted Moonlight Sonata one more time… He’s been reading her poems and they’re quite good, but he doesn’t understand what she means by this line, and would she mind explaining?She writes back letters that are bursting with details, from the taste of the air to the way she’s always preferred Mendelssohn to Mozart, though she’s never really been able to love anything more than she loves Gloomy Sunday. That’s rather morbid, he writes back, and she smiles at his words and pinches the bridge of her nose and says “stop” out loud to herself.The biggest pile of letters is the unsent letters. Most of them, too, are to Hermann Gottlieb, her muse. I can’t begin to explain how glad I am that you read my poetry, reads one letter, the handwriting cramped and rushed. You’ve inspired most of it. I wonder at the hollow and cavernous echo in my bones and realize it’s simply that I miss you terribly. I wish I’d taken more of your classes. I think I’m falling in love with you, Dr. Gottlieb, and the way you look at numbers like they hold the secrets of the world. She adds another letter to that pile and instead sends him something mundane, ends it with Yours, Vanessa and pretends that the taste of the envelope’s glue on her tongue doesn’t make her feel despondent when she realizes how many words he’ll never read, words like I’m in love with an idea of you from almost a year and a half ago, an idea of brilliance and kindness and a wry twist of your mouth when you recognized my voice in the classroom, and I would do just about anything to see you again if only to be sure it’s you I’m in love with and not an image of you I’ve manufactured.Her wish comes true in October and he’s wearing a burgundy scarf around his neck and his knuckles are white from his grip on his cane. He calls out to her—“Miss Rossi!”—and she knows then that she’s in love with him, and she wonders how she went so long without seeing it.———That evening Vanessa Rossi starts a new novel, one about finding love in the dust left behind by the apocalypse, and she scraps the beginning four times before finding an opening sentence that speaks to her. She stops pretending it’s not Dr. Gottlieb’s face she imagines as she writes. She stops pretending she’s ever wanted to write for anyone else so badly. She stops pretending she’s ever wanted someone to be proud of her as much as she wants him to be proud.———A thousand years ago she’d have invited him for coffee, asked him how he’d been, suggested that they catch up, but the simple fact is that coffee, realcoffee, is just too expensive. Instead, they walk together, tucked into winter clothes, their breath visible in the chill of the air. He asks her how the writing is going and she changes the subject, like she always does. They meet like this once a week—he’s still teaching, but he’s been cutting back. The PPDC has been sending him reports, asking him to take a look, and there’s a certain shine in his eyes when he talks about it, like he’s found another set of numbers with which he can fall in love."If anyone can save the world, it’s you," she tells him honestly, one day as the snow is first starting to fall. He doesn’t seem to hear her—instead, he watches the snow as it falls, catching in her hair, her eyelashes, fluttering to rest on the curve of her cheek before melting away entirely.He focuses his eyes on hers again and he smiles. “Thank you, Miss Rossi, but I think the world is past saving.” He looks at her with a sudden curiosity, his brow furrowed, and he says, “Maybe we should just find a new one.”"That might be easier said than done," she laughs, and he shakes his head, the corners of his mouth turning up."Write me a new world," he suggests. "I wouldn’t want to live in one created by anyone else."Eight hundred and forty-seven words becomes six thousand, three hundred and twelve before Vanessa’s able to sleep that night but she knows she has her novel now, she knows that she’s reached what she needs.For H.G., she writes on her brown paper napkin, stained with rings of instant coffee and hot chocolate from the bottom of the mug she keeps setting there. As if it hasn’t all been for him.———Winter is slow and deep and beautiful, even when the world crashes around you and burns into nothingness. She goes to see Dr. Gottlieb and surprises him, sitting in on one of his classes, and though he doesn’t say anything he smiles so widely he actually falls silent for a moment. He waits until the end of the class to speak to her, when she comes up to the front of the room with a small parcel wrapped in brown paper tucked under her arm."Merry Christmas," she tells him, and he shakes his head, holding his hand out to stop her."I was hoping I’d see you again before Christmas," he says. "Give it to me then, and I’ll give you yours."She smiles, nods, pretends she isn’t flushing, pretends she can’t see his smile mirroring hers, doesn’t dare to hope. Hope is a dangerous and fragile thing and she refuses to let herself become its prey. There is nothing in her to appeal to him, the failed novelist who tries to find poetry in numbers, but sometimes she imagines that he finds her beautiful in all the ways she finds herself beautiful, and more, and it makes her heart skip a beat or two and there’s a fluttering in her throat when she says his name.———True to his word, Dr. Gottlieb comes to see her at her messy, tiny little flat, and Vanessa smiles the way she did the first time she understood those numbers he taught her and she steps aside to let him into her home. It feels intimate, almost, the way he looks around as if trying to memorize her walls and the way she looks within them.His gift to her is a journal, bound in leather like books used to be, with smooth white pages that are practically begging to be written on, to be marked as hers. Impulsively, she breathes in the scent of the pages and the smell of a time she’d almost forgotten floods back to her.Her gift to him is her novel. The first draft is finished now, and she knows it’s flawed, knows it needs work, but she doesn’t want anyone else to see it until he’s read it. She’s tucked the napkin in there, with her scribbled note, and he seems so taken aback by the dedication that he simply stares at her.She kisses him impulsively, a brush of lips against his cheek, and she draws back as soon as she realizes what she’s done. “I’m so sorry,” she says, her voice quiet, and she makes to stand as a look of realization comes over Hermann’s face. For such a brilliant man it’s certainly taken him long enough to understand. He looks at her curiously, and he’s not looking at her like she’s a number, like she’s the handwriting of god, he’s looking at her like she’s better, even, than that. “I wish you wouldn’t be,” he replies, his voice so soft she can barely hear it, and when he leans forward and presses his lips firmly against hers she opens her mouth to his in a rush of warm breath."If you let me, I will fall in love with you," he tells her when he pulls away, his cheeks flushed and his lips parted, and she thinks to herself I already have.
1036363	Black Moment	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Sauli Koskinen, Adam Lambert", "Fandom": "Adam Lambert (Musician)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by Taateli", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-11-08T00:00:00", "words": "1,206", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Sauli Koskinen/Adam Lambert", "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 }	Adam went to bar's bathroom. When he came back, he tried to find his way back to Sauli. But where had his boyfriend gone? He wasn't there where Adam left him. Adam walked around and tried to see those blond curls he knew so well. Soon he saw Sauli and smiled. But his smile slowly faded away when he saw that his boyfriend was laughing at something that handsome brunette with slim body had just said to him. Mystery man leaned towards Sauli and touched his arm and said something into his ear. Sauli smiled back and replied something. Adam watched all this with a serious face. What was that guy thinking? That he could just go and hit on his man? He turned his back to them and pushed himself through the crowd. He needed a drink. He wasn't really thinking clearly at the moment and he felt jealousy growing inside him. He ordered a shot of vodka and drank it at one gulp. Yes, he did know deep inside it wasn't a good idea. But his drunken head didn't want to do any reasonable decisions. If Sauli wanted to talk with that guy instead of him, let it be that way then. After all that other guy was slim and good-looking and brown haired and probably funnier than Adam. Adam closed his eyes and tried to count at ten, but his drunken mind got tangled somewhere around five or six. Fuck it! He wanted to go back where he could see them and mumbled some indifferent excuse me's while pushing people aside. There they were, still discussing and smiling to each other. Sauli doesn't even wonder where I am, Adam thought and felt furious towards that stupid guy who wanted to fuck with HIS GUY. Vodka he had just drunk was very fast messing up his brain and Adam felt he couldn't control himself anymore. He pushed aside some people and stepped towards them. Sauli saw him coming and smiled widely. But Adam didn't smile. No, he really didn't feel like smiling. His eyes were on the mystery man when he stepped right next to Sauli. His voice was colder than ice when he asked ”Do you know each other?”. Mystery man didn't smile anymore. He took a step back and said quietly ”No... Not really”. Sauli suddenly looked a bit worried. ”Adam, this is Jack, he used to study in Finland.” Adam didn't listen. He was staring the brunette with fiery eyes. ”You do know he is my boyfriend?” Adam put his arm around Sauli's waist and pulled him closer. Jack smiled uncomfortably and said ”I must go now. See ya around, I guess...” to Sauli and left quickly. Adam stared into darkness of the bar after Jack left. Sauli's hand was stroking his back trying to calm him down. Adam turned to face him and seriously stared at his eyes. Sauli could see Adam had drank one drink too much. ”Baby...” he tried to start but Adam stopped him. ”What was that about? You think I accept your flirting with other guys?” Sauli sighed and started to look desperate. ”It wasn't that, I told you he studied in Finland and he just told about that to me…” Adam shook his head and looked away. He knew that Sauli didn't mean to flirt, but the other guy certainly did. Suddenly he pushed Sauli against the wall and got so close to him that there wasn't even air between their bodies. Sauli took a fast breath and looked upwards into Adam's eyes. ”You are mine. MINE”, Adam whispered with low and determined voice while gazing at his boyfriend. He still wasn't smiling. Sauli could only nod. He felt Adam's demanding body against himself and couldn't help it; he was turning on. There was something in possessive Adam that made Sauli wanting to get on his knees and suck that gorgeous big dick. ”I am yours. Only yours”, Sauli whispered already quietly panting. Adam pressed himself against him so that they could feel each other’s bulges growing. If it was for Sauli to decide, at that moment he could have let Adam use him right there, middle of the dark bar full of people. ”I'm taking you home right now” Adam said and grabbed Sauli's arm little bit tighter than was necessary. He walked his boyfriend to door without letting go. They took a taxi and got into backseat. Adam looked at his boyfriend and squeezed his thigh. His hand was slowly sliding upwards and Sauli had to bite his lip not to moan. They didn't want to get the driver's attention. They arrived to home and Adam quickly paid to the driver. Adam still held Sauli when they walked inside. Adam didn't talk. He pushed Sauli inside and said only ”Go to the bedroom and take your clothes off” before disappearing into the bathroom. Sauli was so turned on he practically run up the stairs and took his clothes off faster than ever. He didn't know which position might please his boyfriend so he just stood there when he heard the steps coming towards the room he was in. Adam stepped inside. Naked. Not smiling, not really paying attention to Sauli, but his dick nicely pointing up and making Sauli to want it badly. ”Get on your knees” Adam said with determined voice and grabbed his boyfriend’s hair when he obeyed. ”Suck it”. Sauli willingly did that and used his tongue skills to enjoy every bit of that hot piece of Lambert. Adam panted when Sauli hit his sensitive spots. Sauli used his best skills trying to impress his lover. He succeeded, because it didn't take long for Adam to stop him. ”Get up” Adam pulled Sauli towards a bed and lied him down. Then he pushed his tongue into Sauli's mouth and they kissed passionately while their hands were wandering everywhere. Adam's hand was going under Sauli's ass trying to find its target. One finger quickly pushed inside Sauli making him moan. Adam wanted his Finn so badly he didn't have much patience anymore. While kissing Sauli his hand tried to find a lube and a condom to prevent the mess. He was quickly ready to penetrate into his boyfriend. They both groaned when Adam made that move. Sex was fast, it was sweaty, it was passionate, it was dirty and they loved every second of it. Sometimes Sauli just wanted Adam to be dominant like that and use him. It was hot. After they loudly came at same time, for a while they just lied there and breathed heavily. Adam got up and cleaned Sauli gently. Then he got back into bed next to his boyfriend and cuddled him. ”That was something.” Adam said. ”You know I am not really angry to you?” ”I know baby”, Sauli replied chuckling. ”As you know, sometimes I like it rough.” Adam thought about that for a moment. He loved this man so much. He looked at his guy and wiped his cheek. ”But, you are still mine and no one else's.” Sauli looked at the ceiling and smiled. He had a feeling that there was gonna be a lot more nice sex in their future.
1033707	Curse of the Buffy	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Gwen Cooper, Buffy Summers", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by secooper87", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-11-06T00:00:00", "words": "537", "Additional Tags": "Humor, Crossover, Weddings", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "The Child of Balime", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Torchwood, Doctor Who & 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 }	"…turned the bridal bouquet into this kind of flaming bomb thing," Buffy explained, helping Gwen seal wedding invitation envelopes, at Torchwood, "and then Trevor — he was the best man — jerked around and fired a webley revolver at—""I'm not sure I want to hear any more about these other weddings you've attended," Gwen muttered. Buffy shrugged. "Hey. UNIT weddings. Makes sense there'd be aliens showing up." Gwen slapped a stamp onto a wedding invitation, a little irritated. "Yes, well, my wedding's not going to be like that," she insisted. "My wedding's going to be normal. Rhys deserves it." Buffy wanted to retort that Alison deserved to have a normal first day at work, and not wind up stuck in the 1970's for an entire month. But bit her tongue, before she could. This wasn't the time or place to lecture. Buffy had done enough of that, before. (At least Alison was back home and safe, now.) "I'm sure your wedding will be perfect," said Buffy. Reaching for another envelope, and licking it sealed. "And totally normal. I mean, you're taking a ton of precautions already." "Every precaution I can think of," Gwen agreed. "I'm not letting my work interfere with my personal life." Buffy grinned. "Good for you!" she said. "Ria said that. Right before her wedding. Except, I mean, her wedding couldn't be, because the demons thought she was weak, and were trying to assassinate her." She laughed, beneath her breath. "So Ria wound up tricking everybody and turning her wedding into the battle that ended the Demon Civil War. Came out, drenched in alien blood, kissed her fiancé, then ran off and got married for real. Pretty cool plan, actually." Gwen gritted her teeth. Buffy noticed. "But that's not going to happen to you, of course!" she said. "Your wedding is going to be completely normal." "Yes, it will," said Gwen. "Just remember to tell Rhys that if an old guy comes over to him, claiming to be his future-self time traveling into his own past in order to stop the wedding," Buffy continued, "then Rhys should definitely ignore him, because I've totally seen that one before. With Xander and Anya, at their wedding. Turns out, it's actually a just demon who's pretending to—" Gwen slammed down the box of wedding envelopes on the table. "Is there any wedding you've ever gone to that didn't wind up being overrun by evil monsters and aliens, by the end?!" Gwen cried. Buffy thought about this. A very long time. An extremely long time. "Um… actually… I can't think of any," Buffy realized. She frowned, cringed. "That's weird, isn't it?" Gwen didn't answer. Her eyes hard. "I guess there are just monsters everywhere I go," Buffy admitted. "It's not my fault or anything! I mean, I don't bring them. They're just… always… there." "I know," Gwen muttered. "No, seriously!" Buffy insisted. "It's like… Curse of the Buffy, or something." She looked down at the table. "Everyone knows it. If you invite me to whatever you're planning, it's inevitable. You're gonna get mega monsters. Period." "Even weddings?" Gwen checked. "Oh, yeah, definitely…!" Buffy started. Then froze. "Oh. Um…" And that was how Buffy got herself uninvited from Gwen's wedding.
1058210	Love Philtre	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Ciel Phantomhive, Sebastian Michaelis, Lau (Kuroshitsuji)", "Fandom": "Kuroshitsuji \| Black Butler", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by kiwifruit", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-11-25T00:00:00", "words": "2,237", "Additional Tags": "Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Love Potion/Spell", "Relationship": "Sebastian Michaelis/Ciel Phantomhive", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": "Rape/Non-Con, Underage Sex", "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	"Sebastian, get me some tea." Ciel mumbled grumpily from his desk, fiddling with his feather pen as he scanned through various documents half-heartedly."Right away, bocchan." The butler replied as he swiveled gracefully on one foot and sauntered into the kitchen.There he found Bard blowtorching some pieces of meat and chucking in whole vegetables into a bubbling orange concoction. Sebastian quietly left him to it as he poured hot water into a pot with fragrant tea leaves, gave it a minute, and then poured it into an elegant looking cup. It was when he turned back around to take it over to his master that he came face to face with a pleasantly smiling face."Hello Sebastian." The Chinese man said smoothly, stroking Ran-Mao, who was snaked around his arm. "Sorry to come here so suddenly. I just excused us in.""Lau- sama." The butler responded in a neutral tone. "What brings you here?""Oh, yes." Lau reached into his right sleeve, a mischievous smile gracing his lips as he pulled out a small bottle of a pinkish liquid. "I thought you might like this.""What is it?" Sebastian reached over to take the bottle, eyeing It wearily."Hmm...You could call it a love potion, if you like." The man chuckled and leant in closer. "Add a little drop, and…poof." He emphasized the last word by mimicking a little explosion with his hands.Before Sebastian had any time to say or do anything, Lau and Ran-Mao had disappeared just as silently as they had come.The butler stared at the bottle for a while longer before frowning slightly and setting it onto the kitchen counter. He picked up the fragile cup carefully, trying not to spill its contents, and walked briskly towards his master's desk. "Oooh what's this?" Bard exclaimed as he spotted a small, clear bottle on his kitchen counter. "I reckon it'll go well in my delicious soup. Maybe bocchan will be pleased."He wrenched the cap open and poured the entirety of the pinkish fluid into Ciel's bowl. He then turned back around to continue the meat burning, not noticing the pink glow the soup omitted before returning to its former orange hue. Ciel couldn't sleep.He was hot, really hot, and he couldn't breathe without panting. Sweat trickled down the side of his face, making him annoyingly wipe it away with his hand.Groaning, he flipped over onto his other side, burying his face underneath the soft plush pillows. He screwed his eyes tightly closed, willing for sleep to take over his mind.It didn't.Eyes still closed, he rolled over again, taking the pillow with him. He soon found that that wasn't a very good idea, because he found himself in nothingness for a moment and on the floor in the next.He stayed like that for a while, surprised, before thrashing a little to free his legs from the entangled sheets which had followed him down.He sat up and brooded a bit, hugging his knees before stretching out his legs out because it got too hot.Suddenly three sharp knocks interrupted him, making him jump. "Bocchan?" A voice asked softly. "Is everything okay?"He must have heard the sounds of struggle from earlier. "Sebastian…" Ciel trailed off, wondering what he could say to explain the current situation to his butler. 'I couldn't sleep and fell off my bed.' didn't seem very appealing.Why was he feeling so hot anyway?A creak reached his ears, and he looked up over the bed from his position on the floor, and saw the door opening. Well the top of it anyway – the bed interfered with the view of the rest."Bocchan?" His butler called as he entered."I'm right here." The master replied grumpily. Sebastian blinked and hurried over to the other side of the room. There he saw Ciel wedged between the bedside table and the bed, looking rather irritable."I can't sleep." He mumbled as Sebastian picked him up off the ground and back onto the bed. He leant back against the pillows, and Sebastian noticed the way he panted, the way his a pink hue dusted his soft cheeks."You should have just taken care of it yourself." The raven sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed."Taken care of what?"Ciel looked annoyed, glaring at Sebastian as though it was his fault that he couldn't sleep."This." Sebastian pointed towards the little tent at Ciel's crotch."Wh-what!?" Ciel exclaimed embarrassingly, snapping his legs tightly closed. His rosy cheeks reddened further. "I don't know what to do withthat!"A hint of a smirk embraced Sebastian's lips. "Shall I teach you, then?"Ciel didn't have time to respond as his butler swooped over him, easily pressing his lips against his master's supple ones as he fondled the bulge with his hand. Ciel gasped into the kiss, his eyes widening for a second before closing, his long eyelashes fluttering over his scorching cheeks.As soon as the kiss was broken, Sebastian lifted Ciel's nightgown up, high enough so his nipples just peeked out. He scooted lower so the erection was right in his face, already oozing with pre-cum. He lapped it up, and then swallowed it whole, sucking softly.Immediately, Ciel's hips gave a wild jerk and he cried out, burying his hands into the soft raven hair."What… what are you doin- nghh…"Ciel panted, tugging at the strands of hair in his grip. Sebastian ignored him, his mouth full, and swirled his tongue around the head. He pulled it out for a moment, fiddling it with his fingers, and dragged the foreskin down the shaft, exposing the red tip underneath. His tongue danced around it, occasionally slipping under the piece of skin, extracting loud moans out of his master.Soon enough, Ciel was just a trembling, panting mess under him."Sebastian… Something's going to-"He gasped, his mouth hung open. His hips thrust shaky, uncontrollable movements into the hot, wet cavity, which continued to swallow down any evidence of his arousal. The butler's head bobbed up and down as trembling thighs squeezed around his head. "Se-Sebasti-an…" Ciel choked out before his desperate pants took over his throat, and with his whole body quaking from the ecstasy coursing through his veins, he squirted his seed into the demon's ready mouth.Heavy breathing filled the air as Ciel's body fell limp onto the bed, and Sebastian released the member from his mouth with a wet pop, licking his smirking lips."Bocchan." He said quietly, stroking the still panting bluenette's silky hair, damp in some places. Ciel opened his eyes, revealing the brilliant blue orbs hidden underneath, one with the violet contract dimly glowing. "Do you understand now?"A slight nod came from Ciel."Good. I think you may need some revision though."The butler said, painfully aware of his own erection straining against his pants."Revision…?" Confusion was clear in the master's eyes as he looked up at Sebastian."Yes. Here, you can practice on mine," The demon purred as he unzipped his pants and let his erection spring free.Ciel stared at the huge thing in front of his face for awhile, eyes wide. He thought that he should probably do something, but his body didn't seem to want to move.A cock this large should not be allowed to exist."Bocchan? Have you forgotten already?" Sebastian inquired as he saw his master frozen in place."I-I know what to do…" Ciel muttered. His mouth felt dry as he shuffled over on his knees so he was closer, before opening his lips and softly sucking on the tip of it. It was hot inside of his mouth, and unexpectedly slick from the dripping pre-cum."That's it, bocchan. But I'm sure it can go a little further." The butler thrust his hips gently against the small mouth, making it stretch open wider.Ciel tried his best to let it further into his mouth, attempting to bob his head up and down the shaft only to gag the moment it hit the back of his throat. He pulled away from it and dropped onto all fours, his eyes watering as he broke off into a coughing fit.He eventually stopped, his chest heaving, when he felt a prod at his rear entrance. He looked behind him to see Sebastian drilling a finger into him."Sebastian… what are you doing?" Ciel squirmed, looking up at his butler with wide eyes. He weakly tried to crawl away when the finger started thrusting in and out rapidly."If you can't take care of it with your mouth, we'll have to use something else instead." Sebastian calmly said as he put an arm under Ciel's hips to keep him from crawling further away.Ciel whimpered as he felt himself being stretched as another finger was added, plunging deep into the tight abyss. He ignored the pain as best he could, knowing his butler wouldn't do anything that would seriously harm him.The butler, becoming bored with the lack of response from his master, crooked his long, slender fingers slightly and rubbed against the sensitive nerves he'd find there.As if Sebastian had hit a switch, Ciel arched his back as he felt a spike of pleasure spasm up through his body, crying out huskily. Chuckling deviously, the demon pushed harder against the spot which forced a shriek out of Ciel's throat, his elbows buckling under him so his face was pressed against the sheets.Sebastian smirked as he saw his master was thoroughly enjoying himself, and continued prepping him for larger things to come.Panting and moaning, Ciel started to thrust his hips down on Sebastian's questing fingers with utter abandon, desperately hoping that they would brush against that spot just one more time.But the wait was getting ever more painful for the demon, so deeming his master to be ready, he slipped his fingers out, making Ciel whine at the loss.The butler reached over to stroke his master's full erection, spewing pre-cum, and coated that onto his as a substitute of lube. He tugged Ciel's hips closer to him, ignoring the little whimper, and lined his agonizingly hard erection against the slightly loosened opening.Ciel gasped into the sheets as he felt the massive intruder entering him. "Noo…" he heard himself whine as it ever so slowly squeezed into him, his lungs only capable of taking shallow, rapid breaths. It felt as if he was being ripped open, which essentially was probably what was happening. "Sebastian…. Stop! Stop…"But Sebastian couldn't stop his hips from pushing further, feeling the tight wet warmness surrounding him. He groaned softly, rocking his hips gently against the smaller man.Ciel's shoulders were shaking as unrestrained sobs racked his lithe body. Seeing this, the butler halted his movements, stroking his master's shaft slowly. "Just a little more…" He whispered into Ciel's ear, thrusting in while nibbling gently on the pale shoulder. The bluenette cried out feebly, and reached his hand back to push at Sebastian's thigh, desperately trying to stop any further movement."My apologies, bocchan. I guess all of it won't fit right now." He sighed, rubbing at his master's erection as he began gently thrusting in and out, his massive cock hitting the prostate at every angle. Ciel screamed out at the double sensation, pleasure flooding through his insides again and again. He soon felt a heat at his stomach, frantically begging to be let out."Sebastian… I'm…" Ciel panted as he felt the heat grow bigger. He felt the butler start to ram harder into him, the sound of thighs slapping against each other echoing through the room.But just when Ciel couldn't hold the warmth in any longer, and had moaned heavily into the sheets and a white liquid had started spurting out, the butler suddenly stopped his stroking and squeezed with a vice like grip instead, staunching the orgasm midway.The master choked out a needy whimper, bucking his hips uselessly against the hand. "… Let go… of me…" He panted, wailing at the uncomfortable, strangled feeling. His hand still gripping on tightly, Sebastian began circling his thumb over the uncovered, red tip of the cock, rubbing at the slit mercilessly.There was an intense heat, like electricity, zapping through Ciel's body, and he could feel his eyes roll back into his head as he moaned and yelped. His hips were trembling jerkily - Sebastian's cock still embedded and thrusting into his prostate – as he tried over and over again to release the extreme hotness, only to find every time that there was a pressure which forbid it."P-please… Sebastian." Ciel was begging shamelessly now. "Please…let me… let me come!"The ecstasy flooding through him was too much for his small body to handle.Supposing that his master had had enough, Sebastian let go of the cock completely. Ciel gasped as the blockage disappeared, and all the heat which had been continuously building up rushed out of him. He yelled as he came once, twice, three times in quick succession before collapsing limply onto the bed, muscles twitching from the intensity of his orgasm. A few thrusts later, Sebastian pulled out quickly, groaning, and let his cum shoot out to land on Ciel's hips and heaving back.Chuckling, Lau silently closed the bedroom door and padded down the corridor.
1054675	Tracks	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Castiel, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester", "Fandom": "Supernatural", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by SillyBlue", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-11-22T00:00:00", "words": "3,662", "Additional Tags": "Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Winter", "Relationship": "Castiel/Dean Winchester", "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 shadows shifted and darkness receded into the far corners of the bed-room. It was getting lighter outside, the glare of the orange streetlamp already extinguished and replaced by the soft blue hues of the comfortable, gentle darkness of the early morning hours. The sun was soon to rise when Castiel slipped noiselessly out of bed. He did it mostly for comfort (the Winchesters’, not his), but he did find the hours he spent in bed, silent, unmoving and merely contemplating and listening to the sounds of the house, the neighborhood and the Host agreeable. He dressed quickly and efficiently, pulling off layers, pulling on layers. He liked to watch himself in the long mirror that stood in the corner next to the wardrobe. He studied his reflection as more of his vessel’s body was revealed and then methodically covered up again until someone that he could identify as “himself” looked back at him. Dean used to complain about him having zero regard for the simplest of human daily necessities – changing clothes was one of them, actually getting out of his clothes and putting them back on following closely behind. Castiel had seen and still saw no real reason to change out of Jimmy’s clothes other than the fact that it seemed to please the Winchester brothers. Sam had volunteered to take him shopping and here he was now, his own set of clothes in the wardrobe to choose from. It was an interesting task, selecting clothes. Mostly it used to be trial and error in the first few months and sometimes Dean still laughed at his chosen get-up, while Sam assured him he was fine (most of the time). But apparently Sam had no fashion sense so his opinion hardly counted. He gave himself a last scrutinizing look, but he found no faults in his black dress pants, the off-white plain shirt or the sand-colored cardigan, so he left the bedroom. -- Castiel was in the kitchen, looking out of the window by the time he heard the shower upstairs. The sun was slowly creeping up into the faint blue sky, casting dim light through a layer of foggy clouds. Their kitchen was small, honey colored tiles along the lower part of the wall and dark brown wooden planks on the floor. There was enough room for him to cook, enough space at the table to eat, enough storage room but Dean still made a mess of everything and Castiel diligently kept cleaning up after him. Castiel tended to think that it was mostly a deliberate act of Dean putting his mark in the spaces that Castiel dominated. He knew that Dean was a very tidy person. The Winchester household owned a dozen cooking books but Castiel doubted either of them had an extensive interest in them. Castiel assumed that they were actually his property. Just like with the clothes, the jackets, the bags and the books having something that was actually his was still rather foreign to him. He knew that humans were very vocal about things they owned and had dozens of rules about how to treat another’s property. So he tried to be appreciative of the things that belonged to him. Like the kitchen; while Sam and Dean took from the fridge what they needed, they didn’t actually touch much without asking him first. At times he assumed that they were rather glad to relinquish dominion over the kitchen because it meant Castiel would do all the necessary tasks involved in getting the brothers proper nourishment. The breakfast was already on the table by the time Sam greeted him. “Forecast hasn’t changed much, we’re lucky,” Sam said in between bites of his cereals and toast. Of course, Castiel knew what the weather would be like, but he nodded attentively, pleased and Sam abandoned breakfast in order to help Dean prepare for their day out. Castiel had seen the two men pack efficiently and in almost no time when on hunts. But getting ready for their day out was chaotic, a frantic rushing about the house and to the garage and the car. By the time Dean finally came into the kitchen it was already nine in the morning. He was grinning, rubbing his slightly red hands together. “We’re all set!” he said and Castiel looked up at him to meet a scrutinizing look. “You ready?” “Of course,” Castiel replied and handed him a plate with two slices of bread with cheese and cut meat. “You haven’t had breakfast.” Dean didn’t try to argue with the food; they had had two months’ worth of discussions about healthy eating and when Castiel had taken Sam’s side Dean had caved eventually. “You know, Cas, you’re not exactly dressed for a day out in the snow,” Dean said after a while, looking Castiel up and down, “what’s with the fancy pants?” Castiel looked down at his clothes, raising his arms slightly. He saw nothing wrong with them, but before he could reply Sam was back in the kitchen. “Should I get us a couple of sandwiches?” he wondered, already wearing his jacket and a fluffy hat. While Sam and Dean apparently enjoyed being chaotic and unorganized when they had the leisure to, Castiel didn’t. He pulled two Tupperware boxes out of the fridge and placed a big thermos flask on the table. Sam laughed, clearly pleasantly surprised. He disappeared into the corridor only to return with a small bag into which he put everything and then left the house to store it in the car. “You have too much time, Cas. Get a hobby,” Dean said, putting his dishes into the sink, brushing shoulders with Castiel as he ran the water over the plate. The angel tilted his head, frowning in confusion. “I assume that human activities are my hobby,” Castiel said and Dean looked at him, “I like the things you might call ‘nourishing’,” he elaborated and Dean couldn’t help laughing at that. “Yes, from angel of the Lord to housewife. That’s a quick and quite depressing descent, buddy.” Dean had already dried his palms and was out of the kitchen by the time Castiel had processed the meaning behind Dean’s words. He hadn’t missed the slight slip of Dean’s grin after the statement had left his mouth or how he had been out of the kitchen faster than necessary. Castiel walked into the corridor, where fresh air was blowing in from their front yard and saw the Winchesters putting two sleds into the back of the Impala. It was the first snow of this winter, rather late because it was already February, but now everything was covered with glittering white and the Winchesters had seized the opportunity. “Where’s your coat, Cas?” Sam asked, jogging towards him, his hands tugged into the pockets of his own jacket. He didn’t tell them that he didn’t experience the low temperatures like they did, but let Sam hand him his coat and Dean put a scarf around his neck. He liked the feel of the scratchy wool around the skin of his neck. Deeming him adequately clothed, the brothers ushered him into the tiny space of the Impala’s backseat. He was still not overly fond of travelling in vehicles and could not find joy in driving like Dean did. But he never voiced his slight discomfort because he could still appreciate how at home the two men in the front felt. The Winchesters were as home in their car as they were in the house they had acquired half a year ago, maybe even more so. They knew their car, every space filled with one memory or the other, good and bad. Castiel picked up on everything and let the ease the boys felt seep into him. He felt at peace and less out of place. -- Castiel stood by the car and looked at the snow covered hill in front of him. Dean had driven them a bit further away from the town, nearing the forest. The snow here was mostly untouched, deep enough that they sunk in to their ankles when they walked up the hill time and time again. The sky was a bright blue, all the morning clouds had dissipated and the sun was shining, warming the metal of their car. Sam and Dean stood at the top of the hill, their cheeks already red and their breath coming out in small puffs. Castiel did not quite understand the purpose of the activity they were engaging in. One sled lay momentarily abandoned at the bottom of the hill, some distance away from Castiel, and Dean was getting the bigger sled ready. Both of them were grown men and had some trouble adjusting their position on top of their vehicle, but then Dean kicked off, wrapping his arms around Sam’s waist and they sped down the hill, making snow spill in every direction when they came to a less than graceful halt at the bottom of the slope. Their laughter was such a nice sound, childlike and unrestrained. Castiel smiled and continued watching. This moment belonged completely to the two of them, two boys enjoying themselves; building a ramp that might end in a small disaster, running up the hill, tumbling down, snow ball fighting. Castiel might be visible to them right now, but even if he weren’t it would not have made a difference, he was merely a spectator of this display of affection and mirth. He watched in silence, enjoying the sunrays on his vessel’s skin, the vague feeling he had come to associate with cold, the still scratchy fabric of Dean’s scarf. He closed his eyes and allowed himself this moment of gentle sensations. Until a snowball exploded on his face. He opened his eyes, blinking slowly as the snow dropped off his face, some of the snow crystals melting on his skin and running down his cheeks. Dean was laughing, holding his stomach while Sam stared at him in mortification that soon eased up into irritation with Dean. Castiel reached up, running his fingertips over his wet cheek and brushed the powdery leftovers of snow off his lashes. The wet, trickling and cool sensation seeping into Dean’s scarf and running down his neck was not unpleasant. Sam crossed the distance to the car, dragging the sled behind him on a long rope. Dean was still laughing, but also slowly walked back, rubbing his gloved hands. “Cas, you alright?” Sam wondered and Castiel nodded. “Dean’s an idiot, he shouldn’t have done that.” Castiel wanted to inform him that he was unaffected by Dean’s puerile behavior, but Dean cut him off: “Dude, nobody gets killed by a snowball to the face. Not even Cas,” Dean said, sitting down on the sled with a huff. Castiel found his phrasing slightly puzzling because it seemed to imply that he had a lower resistance to the effects of a snowball than most humans. He was not human, he had barely registered the force of the snowball hitting him, but he did not feel like correcting Dean. If he had not been caught off guard, then maybe he would have allowed himself to feel properly. Maybe he should ask for demonstrations at a later point. “Honey, pass me a sandwich?” Castiel looked at Dean, who was pulling off his gloves, then he opened the door to the backseat to get the food bag. He gave both Dean and Sam one of the sandwiches, before pouring them a cup of still steaming coffee. “Are you done then?” Castiel wondered, leaning back against the Impala, letting his eyes travel over the hill again, tracks now zigzagging through the snow. He then looked at the two sitting on their sleds with faces red by the cold, their body temperature slightly lowered and the pulse only slowly coming back to normal. Maybe he should advise a return before they got too cold, but they had enjoyed themselves and Dean didn’t like to be chaperoned by him. “Why? You’re getting bored?” Dean wondered with a snort and tossed the napkin the sandwich had been wrapped in into the food bag. Castiel shook his head. Boredom was still a foreign concept to him. “Watching you play is very refreshing,” he explained and Dean raised his eyes to study him. He seemed marginally pleased at Castiel’s reply, but his eyes held an expression suspended between unease and building determination. Castiel refrained from looking more closely because neither of the Winchesters appreciated having their mind or emotions read beyond what they actually decided to express. “Yeah, we haven’t had any opportunity to go sledding in the last couple of years,” Sam said, finishing his sandwich, “it’s good to know it’s still as funny as it was when we were kids.” Castiel had no hard time imagining them as children, playing in the slushy snow behind one of their motels. He could see the memories radiating off them like body heat. Those were good memories in bleak situations, a little piece of comfort chiseled out of their harsh lives on the road, hunting, not being kids like they deserved. Memories, Castiel knew, were an important piece of human identities, flashes of good and bad situations that shaped them, comforted them, disturbed them and accompanied them like a second set of footsteps besides their own. And Heaven was made out of good memories, no wonder the two held those little things so precious. Dean got up from the sled, stretching slightly, but then he took hold of Castiel’s arm. The angel looked at him in confusion, watching Dean’s hand slide down his forearm until Dean’s fingers, cold and not wrapped in gloves, closed around his own. He didn’t say anything, merely pulling Castiel with him while Sam grinned at them, pulling out his mobile phone. “I haven’t done this before, I don’t-“ Castiel began as Dean’s intent became clear. Dean positioned the sled, turning it into the right direction before shoving Castiel towards it. Castiel sat down gingerly, hands stiffly on the cold wooden surface. “I don’t know how to steer this…” he finished his sentence and planted his feet more firmly to the ground. Dean huffed a laugh behind him, then he nudged Castiel gently, urging him to move slightly. Castiel did and the solid warmth of Dean slipped onto the sled behind him. He slowly reached around Castiel from behind, taking hold of his wrists gently and putting them towards the side of the sled where Castiel could grab the metal frame. His fingers lingered, the cool tips brushing over the delicate bones of Castiel’s wrists, before settling around Castiel’s middle. Castiel let himself lean back slightly, his back meeting Dean’s chest. He could feel Dean’s heart rate vibrating through his own vessel. He felt the warm puffs of air stirring the short hair on his neck. Dean’s physical proximity was always welcome to him and feeling uncertain about this whole sledding business, it was also comforting. “Can we drive safely like this?” he wondered and Dean laughed gently, tilting his head down to place a kiss to the side of Castiel’s neck. “We don’t need to,” Dean told him, his breath warm and moist like his lips. But then Dean’s hands moved, grabbing onto the sled as well and with a powerful lurch forwards they were speeding down the slope. Castiel allowed himself to feel this; to rid himself of vision and sense of direction as the snow swirled up in front of them, to yield control as the sled gained speed without a distinct course, to withdraw enough into his vessel to feel the cold wind soaring past his ears, hitting his face, streaming into his open mouth. He breathed snow and speed and Dean’s laughter. They were down in a heap of tangled limps, coats and snow everywhere before Castiel even properly noticed that they had fallen off the sled at the bottom of the slope. Sam and Dean were both laughing heartily while Castiel saw the bright expanse of blue sky overhead. Dean’s lips were still forming a smile and felt slightly cold when he pressed them to Castiel’s mouth, before pulling him up to his feet. Sam and Dean were already running up the hill again, carrying and dragging their sleds. Castiel realized with no small amount of surprise that he too was part of this experience which would enter the collection of the Winchesters’ happy memories. It was a thought that warmed him from inside, made his grace pulse in joy and a smile form on his lips. -- It was early afternoon by the time the Winchesters finally decided to pay heed to their chattering teeth and sore muscles. Sam announced he’d get into the tub to warm up and Dean clumsily thudded up the stairs to change. With both of the brothers upstairs Castiel started preparing a sweet snack. Dean was still red-nosed and cold when he came into the kitchen in a dry set of clothes, lured by the promising smell of food. “Maybe you should take a bath too after Sam is done,” Castiel suggested and handed him a plate with steaming pie and a cup of coffee. Dean grinned at him and took a sip of his coffee. They went to sit in the living room, where the heating was turned up and Castiel had blankets he could tug around Dean. The older Winchester took hold of Castiel’s wrist and pulled him down on the couch. “Just warm me with your body if you worry so much about me,” he said with a lazy grin. Castiel settled down, leaning against Dean’s side and tugging his head under Dean’s chin. He didn’t think the warmth radiating off Jimmy’s body was very useful, because it was not many degrees above Dean’s own. He could ease up on the tight control he had on his Grace, making his body heat up instantly. This would turn him into an “angel furnace” as Dean had called it some years ago, when there was still an imminent fall and the end of the world to contemplate, problems which had rendered any attempts to force his last shreds of Grace deeper into his vessel obsolete. But if he granted Dean this warmth then he would not be able to feel him, not like this. He would register Dean’s breath on his face, smelling of pie and coffee, the pressure of his hand on his vessel’s hip and many other things, but it would stir nothing within him, he would not feel the comfort or the love, his body would not react to any of it. So he decided that this contact, the blanket, the heating system and the coffee must be sufficient. “I like sledding. Maybe we could repeat it one day,” Castiel said into the easy silence and Dean shifted slightly, putting the plate with the pie on the coffee table. He turned his head to look down at Castiel. “You could teach me to throw a snowball.” Dean’s smile was beautiful to look at and the man reached out to run his fingers over Castiel’s cheek before closing the distance with a gentle kiss. “Of course,” Dean replied, then guided Castiel’s head back down to his chest where Castiel could hear a slightly nervous heartbeat. Considering how their current activities should be relaxing this had Castiel slightly alert. “Is everything okay?” he asked and Dean remained silent for a moment. “It’s just…,” Dean started, his fingers digging into Castiel’s hip, but not nearly hard enough to bruise. Castiel could feel the tension inside Dean rising, but instead of saying anything, he just kissed the top of Castiel’s head. “Everything’s alright. I’m just happy that you came with us…” “Of course I came with you. Wherever you go, I will be there,” Castiel said honestly and Dean laughed into Castiel’s hair, before kissing it again. Castiel waited for a moment, but then he withdrew enough to look at Dean. “And I’m not doing it because you ask me to… I want to be with you. And with Sam… I want to… be part of your memories.” Castiel didn’t know if this was what had Dean worried and even if it was, he still was not an expert on talking about things Dean would rather worry about in silence. Dean held Castiel’s gaze, searching and with a hint of uncertainty, but then his expression became soft and he smiled genuinely. “Yeah… I’d like that too,” he said, then he pulled Castiel back down, kissing his lips. “You’re such a sap, man…” “Yes, Dean. I know, you tell me all the time.” Dean had to laugh, shaking his head. He drew his fingers through Castiel’s unruly hair, nose still touching Castiel’s cheek, his mouth never straying too far from Castiel’s lips. “I love you,” he said and Castiel smiled at him. Yes, he could feel it, he could see it and he could hear it. But he still relished the sound of Dean’s voice when he actually spoke it out loud. “I love you too,” Castiel answered gently and they settled into a relaxing silence, now and then disturbed by Dean drawing his fingernails through Castiel’s hair or him kissing the top of Castiel’s head. It was pleasant and Castiel assumed that he could spend the rest of his time on Earth feeling Dean tracing wordless signs speaking of love onto Castiel’s body. One day Castiel would need to talk to Dean, one day he would have to finally relinquish his selfishly prolonged hold on his vessel. But now he wanted to go out to walk the freshly fallen snow at Dean’s side and make his own set of tracks for Dean to remember. By the time the sun cast red light through the curtains and into their noise filled kitchen, there was another picture hanging on the living room wall, adding to the rich tapestry of their memories together. FIN
1070288	The Perfect Gift	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Mrs. Hudson", "Fandom": "Sherlock (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by therunawaypen", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-12-04T00:00:00", "words": "670", "Additional Tags": "Christmas, Presents, Fluff", "Relationship": "Sherlock Holmes/John Watson", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Sherlock Tumblr Prompt Fills, Christmas Prompts", "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 }	“What does Mrs. Hudson like?”“John, why you think I should know such a thing is beyond my understanding.”“Oh bullshit it is. And you’ve known Mrs. Hudson far longer than I have.”Sherlock paused in his violin playing, looking back at John at the kitchen table, “While that may be true, I am fairly certain Mrs. Hudson does not have any more husbands she needs placed on Death Row.”“Funny, that.” John rolled his eyes, scribbling out something in a notebook, “So we have no idea what to get Mrs. Hudson for Christmas.”“That much is obvious.” Sherlock shook his head, setting his violin down.John rubbed his temples slowly, “What if we pay for her to take a nice trip somewhere? Maybe to Paris—”“She doesn’t speak French, John.”“I’m just trying to make a suggestion.” John groaned, “Why is this so hard?”Sherlock didn’t answer, merely watching John. If Mrs. Hudson was hard to find a present for, then John was impossible. Sure, it was well within Sherlock’s ability to deduce what John needed (he could never have enough jumpers, perhaps a few well tailored suits, if John were the type to wear suits), but what John wanted…that was a different beast entirely.Another gun, perhaps? No, it would just be a hassle for John to keep the weapon unregistered.“Maybe we should take Mrs. Hudson out to a nice dinner and you promise to be on your best behavior…”“Mhm…”John blinked, “Sherlock, are you even listening?”Sherlock looked at John, “Absolutely.”“I doubt that, because you just agreed to be on your best behavior while we take Mrs. Hudson to dinner.”“Oh, well, perhaps that is what Mrs. Hudson needs for Christmas.” Sherlock shook his head.John paused, getting up from his seat, “What’s the matter, Sherlock? You seem a bit distracted.” He walked across the flat, taking Sherlock’s hand and giving it a small squeeze.The consulting detective looked at his hand intertwined with John’s, “I suppose it is a little trying, attempting to take part in such trivial traditions such as gift giving.”John chuckled, “Oh yes, it’s completely pointless to show the ones you care about through a gift.”“An inanimate object—”“—not all the time—”Sherlock shook his head, “Such a hassle to find the right thing for the people in your life. So many trivial items in the world, selecting just one…”There was a moment when John simply looked at Sherlock, “Why do I have the feeling that we aren’t talking about Mrs. Hudson anymore?” He smiled softly, kissing Sherlock’s cheek, “If it’s any consolation, I don’t know what to get you either.”A smirk pulled at Sherlock’s lips, “You know me, all I need is a good dead body and a puzzle to solve.”John snorted, “Yes, well, I doubt I can buy a dead body without arousing suspicion.” He smiled, “Do you need any new chemicals for your experiments?”“I’m sure I can think of a few things I could use…” Sherlock smirked, “And you? I take it there are things you might need?”John leaned against Sherlock, his head tucked under the genius’s chin, “I think I need a nice sturdy jacket.”“Military grade?” Sherlock chuckled, “Somewhere you can hide a gun holster?”“Something that can withstand all the nonsense we put up with on a daily basis.” John rolled his eyes, kissing Sherlock’s cheek, “And now we know what we can get each other for Christmas.”“I don’t suppose it would be considered cheating,” Sherlock looked at John curiously, “That we asked each other, I mean.”Surprisingly, John laughed, “Sherlock, we cheat at a lot of things, including death. I think cheating at Christmas rules, if that’s such a thing, is hardly worth noting.” He smiled softly, “There are more important things to this season.”Something in Sherlock warmed at the thought and, as he kissed John, he knew it was true. There were a lot of things more important than a simple gift.
1059768	Breathe me	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Dean Winchester, Castiel", "Fandom": "Supernatural", "Language": "Español", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by RoHoshi", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-11-26T00:00:00", "words": "2,746", "Additional Tags": "Español \| Spanish, Season/Series 09, Spoilers", "Relationship": "Castiel/Dean Winchester", "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 }	Breathe me Be my friendHold me, wrap me upUnfold meI am small and needyWarm me upAnd breathe me —¿Estás bien, Cas? ¿Qué te han dicho?—Tengo que llevar esta cosa —contestó enseñándole el brazo vendado con los dedos de la mano entablillados—, dos semanas y tomarme unas pastillas si me duele mucho.—¿Y te duele?—Un poco.—No deberías ir a trabajar, Cas, descansa un poco.—No puedo hacer eso, Dean —objetó frunciendo el ceño. Si no iba a la tienda, ¿dónde iba a dormir?—. Estoy comprometido con ese trabajo y necesito el dinero.—Pero...—No es para tanto y Nora cuenta conmigo para trabajar mañana, no puedo fallarle.No podía fallar a otra persona más. Dean no lo entendía pero no iba a permitir que una tontería como esa lo dejase fuera de combate. Además no tenía otro sitio al que ir. Se dio cuenta de cómo su amigo iba replicarle pero finalmente desistió y afirmó con la cabeza.—Como quieras —dijo poniéndose la chaqueta—. Todavía no me has dicho dónde tengo que llevarte.Castiel giró la cabeza, evitando mirarlo. No, no se lo había dicho porque la respuesta a esa pregunta no era sencilla.Tras salir de casa de Nora y una vez dentro del Impala, Dean le había comentado que era mejor ir a un hospital a que le miraran la muñeca. Cas se había negado en redondo pero el cazador había pasado de él y lo había llevado sin darle otra opción.Ahora estaban otra vez en el punto de origen y sabía que no podía seguir dándole largas.—Llévame al Gas-n-sip —contestó prácticamente susurrando.—¿A tú trabajo? Son casi la una de la mañana. ¿Vives cerca de allí?Hizo una mueca y salió de la sala de espera dirección al coche, esperando que Dean le siguiese y cambiase de tema.—¡Cas! ¡Te estoy hablando! —protestó, caminando a su lado.—Lo sé, y yo te estoy escuchando.—¿Y por qué no me contestas? —preguntó de nuevo cogiéndole de la muñeca sin vendar.Castiel le miró a los ojos, con una combinación de frustración y rabia, mordiéndose los labios. No, no quería responder porque explicarle que no tenía ningún sitio donde dormir y al que llamar hogar era demasiado doloroso; porque sincerarse diciéndole que precisamente él lo había echado del único lugar que creía que podía ser su casa era demasiado cruel; porque no quería contarle que prefería dormir en una gasolinera que en un sitio al que con el tiempo y con suerte podría considerar un lugar al que volver.—Joder, Cas... —musitó el cazador, observándolo mientras se tapaba la boca con una mano—. Lo siento, yo no...Comprendió que su amigo había atado cabos y se había dado cuenta, al fin, del porqué quería volver a ese sitio.—No te preocupes, sólo... sólo llévame allí, por favor. Ha sido un día muy largo —pidió montándose en el Impala.Pasaron unos cuantos segundos hasta que Dean abrió la puerta, se metió en el coche y encendió el motor. El viaje se le estaba haciendo eterno con los dos metidos en el vehículo. Ninguno hablaba y el cazador ni tan siquiera había encendido la radio. Lo que anteriormente Castiel habría denominado como un cómodo silencio, ahora era algo perturbador.De reojo miraba cómo su amigo conducía en una postura tensa y observando la carretera con el rostro molesto. Bueno, no era el único que se encontraba así, aunque estaba convencido de que por motivos muy diferentes a los de Dean.Enfocó la mirada al oscuro paisaje que se veía por la ventana, sin poder evitar recordar lo que había pensado durante esas semanas, de lo que finalmente se había dado cuenta. Todo había cambiado el día siguiente de haber abandonado el búnker. Dean le había dado algo de dinero para coger un taxi y salir de ese inhóspito lugar. En cuanto estuvo en una ciudad cambió de medio de transporte y se metió en un autobús de largo trayecto; así tendría unas horas de margen para pensar en qué hacer a partir de ahora.En algún momento del viaje se quedó dormido, despertándose sobrecogido por lo que había soñado: con Dean y él. Más concretamente, ellos dos sentados en el embarcadero de un lago, ambos riendo, disfrutando de un atardecer, charlando sin que nada ni nadie pudiese perturbarles. Recordaba con claridad la sensación de paz y bienestar que había tenido, el sentirse tan completo, tan vivo y, entonces, otro momento vino a su cabeza. Él ya había soñado con eso, no era la primera vez que veía algo parecido. Esas imágenes las había visto los instantes que había fallecido cuando April lo apuñaló y su mente, caprichosa, se lo había recordado.Y eso sólo podía significar que... su cielo había cambiado.Como ángel comprendía lo que representaba eso.Dean Winchester era su persona, era «la» persona. Era él.Y lo acababa de echar de su lado.Entendió que estaba irremediablemente enamorado de un hombre y de que jamás sería correspondido. Otro sentimiento de dolor que se unía a la extensa lista que ya tenía. Así que se tragó las lágrimas que pugnaban por salir y decidió vivir con ese pesar. No sería lo único con lo que tendría lidiar y tenía serias dudas de si volvería a ver a Dean otra vez.Sin embargo, se había vuelto a equivocar. El cazador había aparecido por la tienda para dejarlo fuera de combate, para darle un giro a esa vida como humano que llevaba de la mejor manera, para desarmarlo con sus ojos verdes, con sus manos tocándole el pecho, con su sonrisa. No era justo, no lo era porque se sentía tan bien con él y volvería a marcharse de nuevo, dejándolo solo con esos sentimientos tan contradictorios y que por más que lo intentaba no dejaban de acosarlo.Dean Winchester, el hombre al que rescató del infierno, el hombre que aseguraba que lo necesitaba, el hombre que no quería estar a su lado. —Ya hemos llegado.Castiel parpadeó desorientado. Se había metido tanto en sus pensamientos que no se había dado cuenta que su amigo había parado el coche.—¿Dónde estamos? —preguntó mirando por las ventanas, sin ver ni rastro de la gasolinera.—En mi motel y antes de que empieces a quejarte, déjame que te diga una cosa.—Dean, no, llévame...—Cas, cállate —espetó interrumpiéndolo—. Vas a meterte en mi habitación, vas a dormir en mi cama y me importa una mierda lo que me digas porque lo vas a hacer. Necesitas dormir en un sitio cómodo y lo harás.—No, si no me quieres llevar me quedaré en el coche —replicó enfadado. Lo que menos necesitaba era meterse en la habitación y en la cama de Dean.—Cas, no me hagas sacarte de aquí a rastras —gruñó encarándolo.—Aquí estoy bien.—No seas cabezón y hazme caso.—¡No, déjame en paz! —bramó enfrentándose a él, cansado de esa conversación absurda y que no iba a llegar a nada, porque no pensaba ceder. No quería más compasión de Dean, no quería más momentos a solas—. Además, ¿que te importa dónde voy a dormir? ¿Te has acordado durante estas semanas de dónde estaba, de dónde comía, de qué estaba haciendo?—Es diferente, no es...—No, es lo mismo, Dean. Ya te lo he dicho, lo he perdido todo, no me queda nada y lo que menos necesito es... es... da igual.Se giró en el asiento, dándole la espalda, avergonzado por los reproches que le estaba soltando y que al final no había podido contener.—¿El qué? Cuéntamelo —le pidió mientras le tocaba el hombro con una mano.Castiel cogió aire con fuerza ante semejante contacto. Ese inocente gesto antes no le afectaba tanto como ahora.—Te volverás a ir, Dean. No necesito unas migajas de tu amistad cuando me dejarás solo de nuevo.—Quieres decir que... que prefieres no verme de nuevo, ¿es eso? —preguntó desanimado.—No lo sé —contestó suspirando con la cabeza hecha un lio, sin dejar de mirar el cielo estrellado y evitando girarse.—Mira, Cas, sé que no te he dado ninguna explicación a por qué te pedí que te marcharás, sólo te puedo decir que volverás, te lo prometo.Negó con la cabeza, notando que los dedos de Dean le apretaban más el hombro.—El daño ya está hecho... —musitó con voz ronca.A continuación sintió cómo la palma dejaba de tocarle y después el sonido de una puerta cerrándose. Abrumado, se giró un poco comprobando como Dean se había marchado. ¿No era eso lo que él mismo se había buscado? ¿No era eso lo que le había pedido? ¿Alguna vez dejarían de hacerse daño el uno al otro? Lo mejor sería que se fuese de allí ahora que Dean no estaba; no podría enfrentarse otra vez a él cuando lo llevase al trabajo.Sin embargo, cuando salió del Impala se lo encontró al lado del coche.—Dean, pensaba que...—Dime la verdad, toda la verdad —le exigió aproximándose a él.—¿Qué verdad? No te entiendo.—Cas, me escondes algo, lo sé, no soy imbécil. Te conozco muy bien.—No, me conocías como ángel, ahora es diferente.Dean le cogió de la barbilla haciendo que levantara la mirada y pudiese verle los ojos. Dios, eran tan perfectos, tan abrumadores. Intentó girarse pero Dean se lo impidió poniéndole la otra mano en la mejilla. Estaba a su merced y no podía hacer nada para impedirlo.—No lo es —susurró moviendo el pulgar por la piel—. Dímelo.Castiel cerró los ojos, temblando por el contacto que estaba sintiendo, por la arrolladora cercanía del cazador.—Dean... por favor... no me hagas esto...—Te necesito, Cas... —susurró acercando su boca a la de Castiel— ¿Me necesitas tú a mí?—Sí... —musitó sintiendo el cálido aliento del cazador quemándole los labios y las yemas de los dedos haciendo que le ardiesen las mejillas.Abrió los párpados contemplando a Dean quien le miraba embelesado y sonriendo feliz como nunca lo había visto. A continuación, eliminó el misero espacio que aún quedaba entre ellos dándole una suave y tierna caricia en los trémulos labios.Castiel no sabía si en esos momentos estaba soñando o si había vuelto a tener alas y podía volar. Jamás un roce tan sutil lo había vivido de una forma tan intensa. Jamás.—Sé lo que sientes, Cas —habló murmurando, ahora con las dos manos acariciándole el rostro—, sé lo que sientes porque yo lo llevo sintiendo desde hace años.Castiel sonrió cogiéndolo de la cintura con la mano que tenía sana y volvió a besarlo con la certeza de que no sería rechazado, de que el hombre que amaba, que deseaba, le correspondía.Sin dejar de besarse cada vez con más intensidad y pegados el uno contra el otro, fueron caminando hasta llegar a la habitación de Dean. Abrir la puerta fue toda una proeza teniendo en cuenta que en ningún momento dejaron de tocarse.—Al final has conseguido que duerma en tu cama —aseguró risueño quitándole la chaqueta y peleándose con los botones de la camisa.—Humm, puedo ser muy insistente, ya lo sabes —replicó mordisqueándole el cuello—. ¿Estás seguro de esto?—Sí, ¿y tú?A modo de respuesta Dean le desabrochó el pantalón y metió una mano abarcándole el miembro.—Dean... ah...Castiel dejó que fuese el cazador quien llevase el mando. Dean le desnudó entre besos y caricias, susurrándole lo mucho que lo deseaba, confesándole todo el tiempo que llevaba luchando en contra de sus sentimientos. Castiel era incapaz de decirle nada, sólo podía gemir con la piel ardiendo con cada toque de sus dedos y de su lengua.Durante unos míseros segundos recordó el sexo con April y lo diferente e incorrecto que había sido. Y no era porque ella era una mujer, no, era porque fue simple lujuria, lo que Dean le estaba regalando era mucho más: era pasión y amor en estado puro.Y cuando entró en su interior, Castiel tuvo la certeza de que no se había equivocado: Dean era su cielo, era su todo. No sólo por sentir el peso de su cuerpo encima de él, o cómo se introducía con embestidas lentas y largas mientras le apretaba una mano y bebía de su boca con cada movimiento. Era por su forma de mirarle, con el rostro enrojecido y los ojos brillantes traspasándole el alma, diciéndole sin palabras todo lo que necesitaba saber.Continuaron unidos en esa apasionada danza , bailando acompasados uno con el otro, sin parar de mirarse, besarse y tocarse donde podían, hasta que llegaron al orgasmo dejándolos exhaustos y satisfechos.Dean se tumbó a su lado con una mano en el pecho de Castiel, quien se giró para mirarlo con una amplia sonrisa.—¿Qué hora es?Dean le observó extrañado y comprobó la hora en el reloj que tenía en la mesita.—Las dos y media, ¿por?—Humm... porque hasta las siete no entro a trabajar y... —dijo colocándose encima de él, dándole un suave beso en los labios y haciéndose más intenso cuando coló su lengua en la boca del cazador.—Quedan muchas horas todavía... —continuó Dean por él, acariciándole la sudada espalda.Y volvieron a besarse y a perderse uno en el cuerpo del otro, sin pensar en nada más que en el fuerte lazo que había entre ellos y que esa noche se había hecho todavía más intenso. A las siete de la mañana Dean aparcó el coche delante del Gas-n-sip. Cas creía que tal vez habrían dormido una hora, no lo tenía muy claro. Lo único que recordaba era todas las veces que habían gemido sus nombres y volvían a empezar. Y a pesar de que prácticamente no habían descansado, por dentro se había sentido pletórico. Hasta ese instante que Dean iba a dejarlo en el trabajo y volvería a marcharse.Era consciente de que ese momento pasaría pero eso no significaba que no le doliese; por mucho que Dean le pidiese perdón por haberle dicho que se fuera, le dijera que estaba orgulloso de él y le mirase con tanto amor y devoción en los ojos. Además, no le había gustado que le recordase que era humano y que no debía preocuparse por los ángeles. Pero no quería discutir con él sobre eso, no cuando estaban a punto de separarse.Era cruel e innecesario alargar el momento, así que salió del coche sin responder a la última afirmación de Dean sobre los ángeles, haciendo un gran esfuerzo para que no viese que se estaba rompiendo por dentro. Cerró la puerta y se agachó para mirarlo por última vez. El cazador le sonrió con una mueca y se despidió haciendo un gesto con la mano y que Castiel correspondió. La mirada de Dean le decía tanto que se quedó observándolo más segundos de los necesarios. Durante unos estúpidos segundos pensó que le pediría que se montase en el coche y volviese con ellos, pero comprendió que eso jamás pasaría así que se incorporó y caminó hacía la tienda dándole la espalda al vehículo.Con el motor de fondo del Impala, abrió la puerta de la tienda y recurrió a toda su entereza para no girarse e intentar continuar con su vida. Al menos ahora sabía que Dean también tenía fuertes sentimientos por él, tenía una noche para recordar y le había prometido que volvería a casa. Había una luz en el horizonte, y, aunque ahora no la viese, debía tener fe. Y no sólo en eso, también en que conseguiría ayudar a sus hermanos.Tras encender la cafetera y colocar el dinero de la caja registradora en su sitio, miró por la ventana intentando ordenar todas las cosas que pasaban por su mente hasta que escuchó unos suaves golpes en el cristal. Se giró descubriendo a Dean esperándolo en la puerta.Sorprendido, se acercó hasta la entrada con la boca abierta y sin saber qué decir. ¿Por qué había regresado?—Dean, qué...El cazador le cogió de la nuca, se acercó a su oído y le susurró unas palabras. Después le dio un suave beso acompañado de una pequeña sonrisa y volvió a montarse en el coche. Castiel se quedó en la puerta observando como el Impala se perdía en la distancia, mientras se tocaba los labios sin acabar de creerse lo que había sucedido. Sonriendo fue a prepararse un café, con las palabras de Dean resonando en la cabeza: «recuerda que te necesito».Sí, no lo olvidaría jamás.
1038568	Deductive Reasoning	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Ms. Hudson (Elementary), Joan Watson (Elementary)", "Fandom": "Elementary (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by eruthros", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-11-10T00:00:00", "words": "3,234", "Additional Tags": "Undressing, Coffee", "Relationship": "Joan Watson/Ms. Hudson", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "Femslash Exchange 2013", "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 Wednesday, and they don't have a case, and Sherlock has an appointment with a pawnbroker in Queens - "don't expect me before dinner, Watson, and don't try to follow me, Samuel is easily disturbed" - so it's almost noon when Joan finally drags herself out of bed in search of coffee.She's turning the corner at the bottom of the stairs, a hair tie in her mouth, when movement in the front room catches her eye: Ms. Hudson, sitting on the chair by the window and reading; she looks impeccably put-together, her hair falling perfectly against her cheek. Joan tugs her sweater down further over her leggings, suddenly feeling awkward and underdressed."Ms. Hudson!" Joan says, around the hair tie in her mouth, and then hastily uses it to put up her hair instead. "It isn't Thursday, is it?"Ms. Hudson closes her book and stands up, smiling, her finger between the pages; Joan takes half a second and checks the title, automatically - Greek; and from the layout it's probably a play - and gives herself a point for observation. "Sherlock asked me to set up some deductive reasoning scenarios this week. I set up some problems - how has the room changed and what can be deduced from those changes, how does décor reflect personality, that sort of thing.""He did. Of course he did." She presses her fingers to her forehead. "Have you been here long?""An hour or two, but I didn't want to wake you." Ms. Hudson hesitates, before clasping her hands together, fidgeting. "I suspected, when you weren't ready for me, that Sherlock had engaged in some petty mischief. I'm sorry to bother you - I - you know Sherlock.""Yeah," Joan says. "I mean, yes. I'm sorry I wasn't here to meet you.""Please, don't worry about it," Ms. Hudson says, and she smiles at Joan and sets the book aside. "Do you want me to come again another day?""No, I don't want to waste any more of your time," Joan says, and then gestures towards the kitchen, which is of course a mess. "Only - I haven't had any coffee yet and -""Look," Ms. Hudson says, "there's a great new patisserie two blocks from here where they make a divine café au lait - why don't we throw Sherlock's plans out the window and I'll treat you to breakfast?""You don't have to do that," Joan says helplessly. "I can just throw something together.""I'd like to," Ms. Hudson says. "It would be nice to just - have some pleasant company for lunch. And to give Sherlock the finger, of course. I'll buy your pastry with the money he paid me for the lesson."Joan grins at Ms. Hudson. "Well, when you put it that way - give me five minutes to make myself presentable and I will be delighted to accompany you."When she comes back down the stairs, Ms. Hudson is holding her coat. As Joan shrugs it on, she says, "you swapped the two identical candles on the mantelpiece; I don't know what it means about personality, but I would check them for prints or blood." Ms. Hudson smiles down at her. "Well, then. I'll tell Sherlock the lesson is complete."*Ms. Hudson waits for Joan to order, and then orders for herself; they sit at an outside table and sip their drinks quietly, looking out at the street for a while. Joan's cappuccino is, as promised, divine, and so is the butter pecan croissant; the weather and the view are lovely; and Ms. Hudson just sits companionably quiet beside her, waiting for Joan to finish waking up."Listen," Joan says, finally, after the last sip of her cappuccino. "I don't want to ask anything awkward, but I noticed you gave the barista your last name, and I realized I don't know your name either - ""Iphigenia," Ms. Hudson says, and then laughs at Joan's expression."That's - Greek, right?""I chose it when I was in college - it means 'born in strength,' and I needed that reminder then. I still do, I suppose. I didn't think about how difficult it would be at coffee shops at the time, of course. Hudson is much easier.""It's lovely," Joan says. "If they don't appreciate it at Starbucks, that's their loss. Do you mind if I call you Iphigenia?""Not at all," Ms. Hudson says, and she smiles as she takes another drink. "I considered Lois - from the Greek, too, but really I was thinking about Lois Lane at the time.""The journalist? I don't know much about her," Joan confesses. "I was more into Nancy Drew as a kid.""I desperately wanted to be Lois Lane when I was young. Partly for the wardrobe, really; her pantsuits were amazing. In a way it would have been prophetic - Lois is an amazing journalist, but writers tend to see her only as support staff. Not worth a comic by herself." Iphigenia makes a face. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to be bitter. It's too pleasant a day for that.""It's okay," Joan says. "Don't worry about it."Ms. Hudson toys with the napkin in her lap, looking at the street. "Joan, I know we aren't really - close friends, yet, but I value the conversations we have. And I wondered if I could ask you a personal question." Joan tears off a bit of croissant and raises an eyebrow in Iphigenia's direction. "Sure, I guess.""I suppose what I want to know is how it felt when you decided to become a consulting detective. I feel - still at loose ends, I suppose.""Ah," Joan says, and turns her cup around on the saucer meditatively; Iphigenia waits patiently for Joan to marshal her words. She's never really thought about it, but she does suppose that they have that in common: trying to change their direction, rethinking themselves. "I knew that I liked the investigative process, and that I enjoyed the work in the moment. But I wasn't sure about it - I'm still not sure if I've made the best decision. I'm happy with what I'm doing right now, and I suppose that's enough.""I know that you have been doing excellent work," Ms. Hudson says, and reaches out to put her hand beside Joan's; Joan looks at it for a moment before recognizing it as an offer, and she sets down her cup and takes Ms. Hudson's hand. "And I like doing it. But I never felt that - that bone-deep certainty that advisors talked about in college. It would have been easier if I had."Ms. Hudson nods. "I've had that feeling. There's something compelling about helping someone reach their potential - it's easy to feel useful and valued when I'm facilitating someone's genius. But then, of course, at the end of two years they have an award-winning play and I have - an ex who wrote an excellent play. I often don't even appear in the acknowledgements. At the time it always feels - amazing, powerful, like I'm lifting someone up. Like I am in the right place. It's only afterward that I feel uncertain."Joan threads her fingers through Iphigenia's. "There were rewards to surgery, too, and to my work as a sober companion. It was hard to let go of those things, even though I knew that there was something else I wanted. And it didn't help that my friends tried to talk me out of it.""Oh my, did they really?" Ms. Hudson says, clearly appalled. "Yeah!" Joan chuckles a little and shakes her head. "They staged an intervention, would you believe it?""Good heavens," Iphigenia shakes her head. "Well, I can promise you that I will always take your opinions seriously, if you ever need someone to listen. I will never stage a personal intervention about your career choices."Joan laughs again. "You know, when you put it that way it sounds just ridiculous.""Just when I put it that way?" Ms. Hudson shakes her head. "It must have been a very convincing intervention.""I walked out, actually. But at the time I still thought that they were trying to be good friends to me." She looks out at the street again, changes the subject deliberately. "I felt comfortable talking to you, almost the moment we met. Have you considered going into therapy? Because I think you'd do incredible work.""I've thought about it," Iphigenia says, and sits back in her chair, releasing Joan's hand. "But I'm not sure it would be good for me - I fear that I would get involved in a hundred people's problems, instead of wrapped up in only one. And then, of course, who wants to go back to school.""Oh, god," Joan says, tilting her head back "At least I'm enjoying my studies this time around. And I'll never have to do a multiple-choice test again."Iphigenia laughs. "The readings are more interesting?""And I don't think any of my professors would have invited my contributions on blood splatter on their floors."*They walk back to the brownstone side by side; Joan's hand brushes against Iphigenia's, sometimes, and she thinks about holding it again; about Iphigenia's tentative gestures."Thank you for breakfast," Joan says, standing on the front steps."Thank you for the lovely company," Ms. Hudson says, standing on the sidewalk below Joan. "I had a good time - maybe we can do it again when I come over tomorrow? Or next week?"Joan takes a deep breath and Iphigenia's hand. "Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee, actually?""We just had - oh!" Iphigenia breaks off and looks away; Joan is charmed by the color flushing on her cheeks. She turns back to Joan and bites her lip. "I'd be delighted."Iphigenia follows her up to the front door; they hold hands until Joan goes to take off her jacket, and gets her scarf tangled in the sleeve, suddenly clumsy. "Allow me," Iphigenia says, sliding the jacket off Joan's shoulders; her hands linger on Joan's shoulders, as they hadn't when they were leaving, and Joan shivers a little."Can I kiss you?" Joan asks, turning so that she's inside Iphigenia's arms."I'd like that very much," Iphigenia says, and leans down to kiss Joan; she's tentative, at first, and Joan smiles against Iphigenia's lips before leaning back. "Did you actually want a cup of coffee? Because I can go make one if you want.""No," Iphigenia says, and smiles, slowly. "Not at all.""Good, because I don't think we have any cream," Joan says. "Do you want to come upstairs?" "Yes," Iphigenia says, and takes Joan's hand again. "I would."Joan pauses in her own doorway, suddenly eyeing the bed dubiously; the tangle of blankets and pillows in the middle of the bed is really not the perfect way to great a houseguest. Especially not someone who wears silk blouses when she dusts."Uh," Joan says. "Hang on for a minute, let me just - "She shoves the pillows up towards the wall, shakes the blankets and flips them back onto the bed; when the blankets settle she can see Iphigenia over the bed, still standing in the doorway, still smiling. Iphigenia walks in and sits on the edge of the bed in front of Joan; she reaches out to touch the edge of Joan's scarf and then slowly, deliberately, slides it off.Joan smiles at her, relieved, and then reaches back to the clasp of Iphigenia's necklace; it refuses to unclasp for a moment. "It's fussy," Iphigenia murmurs, as Joan feels it come apart in her hands; she grins, triumphant."Surgeon's hands," she says, and drops it into Iphigenia's waiting hands. "Oh my." Iphigenia blinks, and takes Joan's hand in her own. She glances up as she leans forward, clearly asking permission, and Joan nods: yes, anything. She watches as Iphigenia kisses the back of her hand, the tips of her fingers, and finds herself gasping as Iphigenia leans back.Joan leans forward with her, automatically, and then skims her hands up Iphigenia's arms, onto her shoulders, reaching for the top button on Iphigenia's blouse. "Yes, please," Iphigenia says, before Joan can ask the question, and she holds still for Joan to undress her. Iphigenia takes Joan's sweater off, in turn; gets up off the bed to unzip Joan's skirt. She takes the edge of Joan's tights in one hand, rolling them slowly down until she's crouching at Joan's feet; Joan lifts her foot, amused. "I'm ticklish," is all she says."I'll be careful," Iphigenia says, and cups each foot in her hand as she slides the tights off, her touch firm and assured on Joan's heel. Joan shivers, a little; it's been a while since she's felt so cherished, and she wants to return the favor. She reaches down for Iphigenia's skirt, for her stockings, and brushes her hands along Iphigenia's legs as she removes them. She stands back up, and steps up close to Iphigenia, until their bodies are pressed together, their thighs touching. "Do you want to get naked?" she asks, and then laughs at herself. "Wow, that sounded silly."Iphigenia takes Joan's hands, moves them behind her own back to the clasp of her bra; it falls away when Joan unclasps it, and she sets it on the pile of clothes beside her."I think you'd better do the sports bra yourself," Iphigenia says, running her fingers along Joan's ribcage. "I get tangled up in them."Joan pulls off her own bra, shoves down her panties and steps out of them, steps forward and sits down on the bed. Iphigenia turns to watch her, and Joan slips a finger inside the waistband of Iphigenia's panties, along her soft belly. "Can I take these off?""Yes," Iphigenia says, and puts her hands on Joan's shoulders, feathers them along her neck, puts her weight on Joan as she lifts her feet. Joan leans forward, licks a line up Iphigenia's side, up to her clavicle, licks and sucks along it to her jugular notch. Iphigenia gasps, and her hands spasm on Joan's shoulders. She slumps forward, her cock pressed to Joan's stomach and her forehead pressed to the top of Joan's head; Joan grins into Iphigenia's sternum. "Sensitive? Will I leave a mark?""I don't care," Iphigenia says. "Go on."Joan puts her arms around Iphigenia, holds her firm as she bites at Iphigenia's trapezius, sucks on her sternocleidomastoideus, licks along her supraclavicular fossa. "You have lovely clavicles," she says, and feels Iphigenia laughing through her sternum."Thanks," Iphigenia says, and shoves Joan down onto the bed, rolling onto the bed beside her. She takes Joan's hand again, kisses it, mouths the palm, and draws back a little. "What do you like?" she asks."Oral," Joan says. "Either way. Fingers. Fucking. I like it when people play with my breasts."Iphigenia promptly cups her hands over Joan's breasts, fingers the nipples, leans forward to take one in her teeth.Joan gasps, pushes up into Iphigenia's mouth, pulls back, pushes up again; it's almost too much, in a good way, and she shudders and curls her hand around Iphigenia's head, running her thumb over her sternocleidomastoid. "What do you like?" she asks, when Iphigenia settles down onto Joan's arm."I'm not particular," Iphigenia says, and leans forward to kiss Joan. "Mouths, mostly. I like mouths a lot.""I noticed," Joan laughs, and leans over, licks and bites at the underside of Iphigenia's jaw. She feels Iphigenia's hands on her again, one hand clutching her shoulder, the other sliding along her thigh, up onto her femoral triangle, before it stops. She lets go of the flesh between her teeth. "Go ahead," she says, and spreads her legs before biting Iphigenia's clavicle again. She feels Iphigenia stroke along her labia once, twice, before dipping inside. "I'm not going to be very good at fingering you," Iphigenia says, "if you keep doing that.""That's very flattering," Joan laughs against Iphigenia's neck, and slides over Iphigenia to give her a better angle.Iphigenia pulls Joan up to her mouth, leans up and kisses her, parts her lips below Joan's before falling back again. Joan takes the hint and presses down, kisses Iphigenia firmly, pushes her hip into Iphigenia's cock. "Do you want do come like this?" she asks. "Or do you want me to suck you?"Iphigenia kisses her again. "Suck me. Please."Joan turns around, kneels over Iphigenia's chest, leans down and licks the tip of Iphigenia's cock. She parts her legs and feels Iphigenia touching her again, running her hands up Joan's thighs, parting her labia and pressing into her cunt. "Yes," she says. And then, considering, "You can lick me if you want." And then she tightens her lips around Iphigenia's cock and sucks; she holds Iphigenia's thighs in her hands, pins her in place.Iphigenia lets go for a second, and Joan makes a face, disappointed a little; she knows some people can't do two things at once, but she likes it best that way. Then she feels Iphigenia moving pillows, and realizes she's propping herself up, giving herself a better angle. Iphigenia licks indiscriminately, the broad flat of her tongue against Joan's clit, her labia, teasing at the edge of her cunt before pressing in. Joan parts her legs further, slumps down against Iphigenia's chest. Iphigenia has one arm twisted around, her fingers sliding into Joan's cunt, stroking in and out, and Joan has a momentary appreciation of Iphigenia's hands before she redoubles her efforts. After a while it's hard to focus; Iphigenia is very good with her tongue, and Joan's always been fast off the mark. She holds off for a bit, hoping for a higher crest, and when she comes it's almost a surprise, her legs spasming and her cunt clenching on Iphigenia's fingers. Iphigenia pulls back a little, her breaths puffing on Joan's clit. "Do you want to go again?" Iphigenia asks.Joan pulls back too, sighs happily. "No," she says. "Thanks." And she squirms forward, Iphigenia's fingers sliding out of her, and licks around Iphigenia's cock, tightens her fingers along its base. She feels Iphigenia fall back against the pillows, her hands clutching at Joan's legs, her breath coming faster. She settles in to suck again, enjoying the way she can feel Iphigenia's reactions through her body; Iphigenia parting her legs, pressing upward, clutching harder, and she's not surprised when Iphigenia shudders a little and comes. "That was lovely," Iphigenia says, running her hands up Joan's legs.Joan smiles into Iphigenia's thigh. "Thanks. You, too." She squirms around and off of Iphigenia, suddenly aware of her weight on Iphigenia's chest and her inability to look Iphigenia in the eye. Iphigenia takes Joan's hand, runs her fingers along Joan's knuckles. "Do you have plans for the rest of the day?" Iphigenia asks, kissing Joan's forehead and then her lips."I fall asleep after orgasms," Joan admits, snuggling down onto Iphigenia's shoulder. "But I'd like it if you stayed.""I have a book," Iphigenia says, snagging her purse by one strap. She sits back against the wall at the head of the bed, holds the book in one hand, and curls her other arm around Joan. Joan reaches up and touches the underside of Iphigenia's jaw. "You're going to have a mark," she says."You can leave another one later," Iphigenia says, calmly, though her arm tightens around Joan.""Mmm," Joan says. "Yes. Later."
1035620	Death Master and Angel	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Harry Potter, Castiel, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by InsertPotterThemedUsernameHere", "chapters": "6/?", "completed": "", "published": "2013-11-07T00:00:00", "words": "12,195", "Additional Tags": "Mpreg, Master of Death, Master of Death Harry, EWE, Angst, Nephilim", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel/James Potter", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Chapter One "Lucifer has me bound to him. Some unseemly little spell. He has me where he wants. That's why I couldn't go to you. I had to wait for you to catch up. He made me his weapon. Hurricanes, floods, raising the dead. I'm more powerful than you can process, and I'm enslaved to a bratty child with a temper tantrum." -Death (5x21 "Two Minutes to Midnight") "If you give me your ring, we can put Lucifer away, unbind you," Dean insisted, trying to negotiate with Death. They needed the ring to put that angel dick in the ground and prevent the apocalypse: the world depended on it. "My ring – that I cannot give Dean Winchester," Death drawled mournfully as he continued to cut into his deep-dish pizza. "But don't you understand what Lucifer will do–" Dean started, only to be interrupted. "As a matter of fact, I do understand, Mr. Winchester," Death snapped and his voice turned to ice. "I have been in this universe long before you, Lucifer or even maybe God – it's been so long, neither of us can remember. I have seen empires come and go in the blink of an eye. I have seen war and destruction by the hands of the sinful and righteous alike. You will do well to remember with whom you are speaking to, Dean Winchester, and how insignificant you truly are." "Now, if you paid attention," Death continued, back to his usual drawl, "I said 'I cannot give' you my ring not that I would not give you my ring. I have no ring to give, I'm afraid." "But –" Dean gestured to the visible white ring on Death's finger. "Your hand?" "Oh, this?" Death said, and lazily flicked his wrist. The ring vanished from sight in a wisp of smoke. Dean's heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. "Nothing more than illusion. Wouldn't want the reapers to know I'm without the ring, you know." "Where is it?" Dean growled, and slammed his fists on the table. "Calm yourself, young one – wouldn't want to have a heart attack now would you," Death chuckled, and then returned to his sullen mood. "You are asking the wrong question. It's not a matter of where, for I have no idea where it is, but I do know the whom. He is hidden from me, however..." "He?" Dean ever the determined one, latched onto to that word-clue. "Someone else has your ring?" "And finally you catch on," Death said and scowled. "Yes. My master has my ring." "Lucifer?" Dean bellowed. "No, no," Death replied swiftly. "Another is my true master." "You have a true master?" Dean questioned, not believing what he was hearing. "I know, isn't it just awful," Death replied moodily and stabbed his pizza with his fork. "An awful mistake of a deal that I made years ago with those damn Peverells. Too much hubris on my part, I fear. Well, you live and learn – or die and learn, as it were. Anyway, he that is the holder of the Deathly Hallows and has mastered Death himself is the Master of Death. He is who you will need to find in order to locate my ring." "And who is he?" Dean asked quickly, knowing his time was rather short. They would be bringing him back to life at any moment. "He had many names before he hid from me: the Boy-Who-Lived, the Freak, and the Chosen One. But, the name he was born to was Harry James Potter." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter Two As Dean waited at Bobby's house for Cas, Bobby and Sam to return from stopping the distribution of the croatoan-laced swine flu vaccine, he thought about his interaction with Death. The outcome of the meeting had come out of left field. He thought that he would have had the last ring or been killed in the process: instead, here he was alive and well, sitting on the porch with a beer, and one ring short. Dean drank the last sip of said beer and then got up and went inside. It would do him no good to just be moping around like some dog that lost his bone. Instead, he sat down at the kitchen table and started to write down a list of what Death at told him about his master. Master of Death Harry James Potter (Boy-Who-lived, Freak, Chosen One) Hiding from Death Deathly Hallows (???) Guy who has hallows and mastered death can then be Master of Death Master of Death thing happened with a deal made by Death to the Peverells "Son of a bitch!" Dean mumbled, as he realized how little information he actually had. Death had refused to tell him any more, saying that Dean had enough of the pieces to figure it out, and if Dean wanted Chicago to still be standing, then the man would leave him in peace to finish his pizza. Dean could only hope that Sammy, Bobby, or Cas would have more information or a plan on how to track down the Master of Death. At that moment, he heard the truck pull up in the driveway. "Speak of the devil," Dean said has the three he had been thinking about walked into the house. "I don't understand, Dean," Castiel said in his normal gravely voice, as he entered the room. The angel leaned against the counter, with his head quirked like a puppy. "Why would you want us to speak of Lucifer? Do you have new information?" "Uh – Cas that's not what I – you know what, never mind," Dean said, shaking his head. Sometimes it was just not worth it. "So how did it go?" "All good work on our parts, and all parts working good," Bobby said as he went to the fridge to pop open himself and Sammy a beer. Sammy sat down at the table with Dean, but Bobby stayed standing. Dean could see how springy the man's step was, and although he wished Bobby had not made the deal, he was glad to see the old man on his feet again. "What about you? We heard nothing from you, idjit. Half-thought you was dead if it wasn't for the Chicago weather reports saying that the storm had miraculously disappeared." "Yeah, I spoke with Death," Dean said, and unsure of how to tell them what happened. "Well?" Bobby prompted. "Did you get the ring or not?" "No, I didn't," said Dean. "Death didn't have it. Said he made a deal with 'those damn Peverells' and ever since has not had the ring. Now his true master has the ring: the Master of Death. His name is Harry James Potter, though he has had some other names. I wrote down all that he told me here," and he passed the note to Sam and Bobby read the note together. Castiel came over to them and read over their shoulders quickly, then retreated to his spot by the counter. The three men missed the subtle grimace the angel's face took. It was gone within moments. "That's it?" Sam asked, a bit disbelieving, as it looked back to his brother. That was not a lot of information to go on. "You try to kill Death and then have a conversation with him!" Dean rebuffed and crossed his arms defensively. "Look, at least we have a name – or names. Maybe we can run a check for Harry James Potter?" "Yeah, but Dean, I hardly think he'll be in the phone book," Sam scoffed and took a drag of his beer. "Well, then we can look up lore on the Deathly Hallows," Dean continued, trying to be optimistic. They had to figure out a way that they could stop the apocalypse without Sam saying yes. "Have you heard of anything like this Bobby?" Bobby stroked his beard. "Funnily enough, I think I have," he then left the kitchen, and they heard him going through the books in the living room. He came back a few minutes later with a thin book titled Tales of Beedle the Bard. "That's a reference?" Dean said, taking it and flipping through it. "It look's like a baby's picture book." "That's because it is, idjit!" Bobby snapped and snatched back the book. "It's a supposed to be a Wizarding fairy tales book." "Wait, so witches read this to their little witch babies?" Dean balked. "Not witches as you know them, Dean," Castiel interjected. Dean turned to look at him but Cas instead looked out a window instead of making eye contact. "There are humans who don't make deals or corrupt their souls to gain it, but rather are born with magic." "There is nothing in dad's journal about humans born with magic," Sam said, and looked from Castiel to Bobby. "They have entire communities and shroud themselves in secrecy, because of the persecution that was done to them in my father's name. That's probably why you've never heard of them," Castiel said as he eyed the book. "I am surprised you have a copy of one of their texts." "Got it in a trade from a hunter in New York," Bobby explained gruffly as he flipped through the book. "Said it was Wizarding, and she had written notes within in about her theories. I wasn't sure about it, but I got it anyway, 'cause I didn't think it would hurt none. I thought it was just myth. Just like I thought vampires and angels were myths, too. Go figure." "Wait, so if they have magic, why don't they do anything to fix this?" Sam asked. "Or go after Supernatural creatures that attack others?" He was amazed that true magic users existed but was frustrated that they seemed to do nothing to help others. Just like the angels. "Magic cannot solve everything, Sam," replied Castiel, sage-like as ever. "And yours is the expectation many will have. They refuse to lift a hand to help the mundane for fear of their world being revealed and them be persecuted or used by other humans. You do not have a good history of treating them with respect." "Right, so, here it is the 'Tale of Three Brothers,'" Bobby said, getting down to business before an argument could start. He read the story aloud, along with the handwritten notes on the margins, and Sam wrote down the key information from the story onto Dean's list. "Tales of Three Brothers" Tales of Beedle the Bard Deathly Hallows (Elder Wand, Resurrection Stone, Cloak of Invisibility) Peverells (the Three Brothers) Antioch: Elder Wand (Unbeatable) Cadmus: Resurrection Stone (Can bring an echo of deceased) Ignotus : Cloak of Invisibility (Can hide from Death) - Gave to son "Okay, so Death said that a person who has all three hallows and masters Death then becomes the Master of Death," Sam said, going over their list. "So this Potter had to have had all three Hallows and then 'mastered death'. How would you master death?" "'To conquer death, you only have to die,'" Castiel said, thinking hard (1). "The way to master death is not to flee it but to welcome it, as our Lord did, and then overcome it." "So are you saying that we have a modern Jesus on our hands?" Bobby grimaced. "No, there is only one messiah," Castiel replied, literal as ever. "He would have had to have had the deathly hallows on him as he sacrificed his life and accepted death." "OK, so if he had a wand – you would think that he would be a magic-user – a wizard then," Sam said, talking it through. "We didn't even know that a Wizarding community existed, how will we be able to find him if he is within one?" "Wait a minute - can you track him, Cas?" Dean asked, but his hopes were dashed when the angel just shook his head. "Ever since I saw the name, I tried to find him, but he is hidden," Castiel said, frowning. "So what hides him from Death – it can hide him from angels, too?" Sam asked. "I am not sure," Castiel replied. "It is as if he does not exist – like the protections I put on you and Dean." "There has to be some way to track him down," Dean said and drummed his fingers on the table. Sam turned back to their notes and came up with a thought. "You have to have all of the hallows to become Master of Death," Sam stated, thinking. "So the wand seems to be a wildcard – no real way to track it, if it goes from person to person the way it was shown in the story. The stone, it doesn't seem to have a way of being passed around, so no clues on that end. But, the cloak – what if it was passed down through the family in real life just as it was in the story? Maybe if we try and track down Ignotus Peverell's line and cross-reference that with Harry James Potter we can have a start." The younger Winchester then turned to Castiel. "Could you do that Castiel?" "Now that I am cut off from Heaven, no," Castiel said slowly, still not making eye contact, and Dean felt something was off with him, as if the angel was holding something back. Dean was about to confront him, when he heard a voice behind him. "Maybe I can be of some help, boys?" The three humans and the angel turned their heads to see Crowley, King of the Crossroads, standing at the kitchen door with a cocksure grin. (1) From "Poor Jerusalem" in Jesus Christ Superstar ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter Three Previously: "Maybe I can be of some help, boys?" The three humans and the angel turned their heads to see Crowley, King of the Crossroads, standing at the kitchen door with a cocksure grin. "And just how is that Crowley?" Dean asked and stood in a defensive posture. "You weren't a great help with Death. And just how long have you been listening in?""I found him though, didn't I," Crowley replied. "And long enough to know you are looking for Harry Potter.""How can you find him if even Death can't find him?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow."Death can't find him?" Crowley repeated in surprise. "Ooh, now that's interesting. And I will answer you only if you answer me – where is Death's ring? I see you don't have it Dean-o, after all that, such a shame."The Winchesters looked at one another and stayed silent."Oh, come on," Crowley gruffed. "Fine, then I will just use some context clues: Dean went to Death to get his ring, Dean came out alive with no ring and is now looking for Harry Potter. Doesn't take a genius, I just want confirmation: did Death say that Potter had the ring?"Unable to articulate any response, Dean just nodded."So it's true!" Crowley said and rubbed his hand to his face. "There was rumor, but –""Wait – so you know of Harry James Potter?" Sam exclaimed."Know him?" Crowley laughed. "Of course I know him – he only killed hundreds of demons in a day. The man is legend. Made most of the demons flee Britain.""Wait, so this guy is a hunter?" Dean asked."Not as such, no," Crowley said, and he took the seat that Dean had left, propped his feet up on the table and folded his hands behind his back. Dean in turn scowled and went to lean up against the counter next to Cas. "He defeated a Wizarding Dark Lord who was trying to take over the world, blah, blah, blah. Lord Voldemort had summoned a demon army and had promised them the moon. That's where I saw him, on the battlefield. He defeated the Dark Lord, but that wasn't the end of it. The Wizarding followers ran, the cowards, but the demons continued to attack. We had been promised so much and didn't want to go back into the pit. He slaughtered hundreds of them with his bare hands, just smiting them with awesome power. Then black flames kindled around him, and he vanished with a shockwave of red, and all we demons that were left were sent back to the pit. No demon has seen him since.""If no one has seen him since, how will you be able to find him?" Bobby asked, raising a bushy eyebrow."While no one as seen him, there have been direct clues of his existence," Crowley answered, scathingly. "Demons were afraid to return to Britain until after a while there was no sign of the Potter brat. Then, they came up one by one only to become missing within a week. No demon who went ever returned. Even stranger was that every deal I or another crossroads demon had made was canceled days before the hounds were to fetch them. We never investigated, but there was no doubt in our minds that the wizard was behind it. No one had ever broken a deal before, just as no one had ever permanently killed so many demons before... It makes sense now.""Yeah? How so?" Dean asked, warily."Only Death can void deals," the demon answered. "And, if he is literally Death Master, then that would mean he could as well.""So, then we find someone in Britain who has a deal coming up and stake them out until Potter arrives," Sam exclaimed."No can do, Moose," Crowley shot down with a smirk. "There isn't a soul in Britain promised to hell, or at least not contracted. It's been 12 years since the demons were first expelled, and no contract goes longer than a decade. No new contracts were made since then in Britain – no demon's willing to step even a toe on that island.""So what is your proposal, then?" Castiel asked, his eyes narrowing at the demon. "You wouldn't still be here if there wasn't something you had in mind.""Alright, alright, no need to get your feathers ruffled," Crowley drawled. He took his feet off the table and leaned forward with his hands steepled together. "As I said, there isn't a soul in Britain – at the moment – that has a contract. But, we could change that. Set a trap – send someone with a contract there and snatch him up when he goes to relieve it.""So we send Bobby?" Sam asked, looking to the older man. Said man scowled and opened his mouth to say something only to be cut off before he started."We could, if you wanted to wait ten years when his contract is ready to end," Crowley said."Wait – I thought the deal was you would find Death for us and was just holding Bobby's soul as collateral but that you would return it," Sam said, in a worried tone."Yes – and I gave him his legs back, no need to thank me," Crowley grumbled and then clarified, "But, all contracts must have deadlines. I put his at the standard ten years, with the thought you lot would be able to kill Lucifer sooner than that. No, it'll have to be Dean."Dean startled, and Sam rose from his chair so quickly it fell over. Castiel uncrossed his arms and changed his stance, ready to defend Dean."Bullshit," Bobby exclaimed and stood in between Crowley and Dean. "Just make a new deal with me.""Nope – can't have more than one contract going at the same time, Bobby-boy," Crowley said, not the least bit intimidated by the posturing in the room. "And I won't end that contract until Lucifer is dead and gone – like I said before, nice insurance to make sure I survive the apocalypse alongside you lot.""Why not me?" Sam asked quickly."Sammy, no –" Dean started."Don't get your panties in a wad, Dean-o, I wouldn't make a contract with Jolly Green here with or without your protestations," Crowley sneered. "If Lucifer found out I made a contract with his vessel, I would be dead – completely and utterly dead, and unlike you lot, I have no death wish. No, it'll have to be Dean, if we want this to work."There was a moment of silence as this information brewed within the men and the angel."How would this deal work?" Dean asked and held up his hands to the others' protests. "God and everybody else and their grandmas know that the last thing I want is to be promised back to the Pit. But I want to hear what the deal would be before we turn it down.""You would promise to give your soul to hell in one week in the hopes that the contract will be nullified by the Death Master," Crowley said. "If at the end of the week no Death Master appears, then the contract will become null and void. Do we have ourselves a deal?""Sammy, any loopholes?" Dean asked, keeping eye contact with Crowley."Dean, you can't –" Sam started, but Dean cut him off."Sammy, any loopholes?" Dean repeated firmly.Sam looked like he was about to cry or flip the table or both. He took a breath and rubbed his palms on his face."Well – you'll need to add that if Potter appears and does not nullify the contract that the contract will still be nullified by Crowley at the end of the week," Sam said in a lawyerly fashion. "But Dean, there must be another way we can track him without having your soul promised to Hell. Again.""Sammy, not a day ago you were shooting your mouth off about saying yes to the Devil," Dean snapped. "If signing this contract will get us closer to killing the son of a bitch, then I'm doing it.""Cas – c'mon say something," Sam begged, turning to the angel. "You can't let Dean do this."Dean turned to Cas and wondered what the angel would say. Before Crowley barged in, Dean had noticed something off about Cas, as if he was hiding something. While they all listened to Crowley's tale about the Death Master, Dean noticed that Cas had tensed up. The angel knew something. But what?"Sam, when we were in the vehicle, I agreed with you that the option you may have to take is saying yes to Lucifer," Castiel said, his voice monotone but his eyes betraying some emotion – what, Dean could not tell, but there was something there. "I also must agree that this is the option that Dean may have to take as well. With addendum you made, I see no issue with the contract. We will be there with Dean to protect him, if needed."Sam's shoulders slumped in defeat at the response, Bobby scowled and turned away, and Crowley smirked in satisfaction. Dean just studied Cas for a moment and then made two decisions.One, he would go through with the deal. Two, he would find out what Cas was hiding – one way or another. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter FourThe deal was done. Dean signed the contract and unfortunately sealed it with a kiss, which the other two men and the angel awkwardly, yet pointedly, looked away from. They decided Dean, Sam and Cas would travel to Britain tomorrow to trap the Death Master, Bobby would stay and research the lore they had on the Master of Death and call in more contacts, and Crowley would scurry off to wherever he went to when he was not with them.After much discussion, they decided Cas would fly the three of them, even though it wasted some of his precious 'angel battery' as Dean so aptly named. There was too much of a risk for the Winchesters to fly internationally with the numerous arrest warrants out for them, and they would not have been able to take their weapons with them. Dean was more than happy with the decision and ignored Sam muttering 'wuss' under his breath.Once it was just Sam, Dean, and Castiel left in the kitchen, they all sat down. Dean decided it was time he confronted Castiel about the feelings in his gut: the angel was hiding something."OK, Cas – what's up?" Dean asked pointedly. "I know you know something – are keeping something from us. What is it?" When Cas fidgeted, Dean grabbed the angel's wrist, just in case the other decided to literally fly off. "C'mon, man – my soul is a little bit on the line here. What are we dealing with?"Castiel looked from Dean to Sam and back to Dean, and then sighed."Well, it would be better for you both to know the exact nature of what we are dealing with," Castiel admitted."Duh, Cas, duh," Dean fired back, and Sam concurred with what Dean classified as bitchface #83. "It's a long story," Castiel began. "But it starts with prophecy." In the Age before the Apocalypse, A child born of a Son of God and Son of Adam Shall be marked by One Who Flees from Death. The Abomination will Rise And defeat his marker, Smiting Evil from the land. "We remained watchful, and sure enough during the mid-twentieth century anno domini, Lord Voldemort began to rise in power.""What did he have to do with the crystal ball, mumbo jumbo," Dean asked."Voldemort literally means 'flee from death' in French," Sam explained. "Vol de Mort. Now let Cas finish the story!""Thank you, Sam," Casitel replied as Dean made a face at his brother. The man dropped it when the angel turned his attention back to him. "And it was not 'crystal ball, mumbo jumbo' – a prophet made this prediction millennia ago. It was a grave prophecy with frightening implications – it meant that an abomination to the Lord would have to be created to counteract Evil and for the apocalypse to take place."Once we caught sight of Lord Voldemort, we understood why we would need an abomination. He had taken on black magic and conducted numerous demonic rituals that resulted in his being invulnerable to all human and demonic magic. With these magicks, he created horcruxes, splitting his soul into pieces and placing them into inanimate objects, which would make him immortal in human standards; as to be dead, the complete soul must be in some aspect of the netherworld. As angels were, at the time, instructed not to interfere with humanity, we would not be able to smite the wizard...""But an abomination could," Sam finished for Castiel, putting two and two together. "So an abomination, the child of a son of God and son of Adam– a nephilim?""A nefa-what?" Dean gruffed, confused."A nephilim, the child of an angel and human," Castiel answered, looking away. "You are correct Sam, it would be a nephilim: an abomination to the Lord. The original nephilim were the product of the egrḗgoroi, the Watchers."The Watchers were angels assigned to Earth to watch over humans after Adam and Eve were cast from the Garden. Many of the Watchers began to lust after the human women and began to defect from Heaven. In the end, 200 angels fell and began to procreate among the daughters of Eve and began teaching men forbidden knowledge: war, weaponry, magic, signs of the earth and sky. Their children – the nephillim – were giants in human terms and were evil pillagers of the Earth who left only destruction in their wake. In order to rid the Earth of nephilim, Father sent the Great Flood. Uriel warned Noah to preserve humanity, and all but ten percent of the nephilim's souls perished in the waters. The ten percent left became demons, to lead Man astray until Final Judgment. Those angels that begat them were cast in chains into Tartarus. Uriel was their guard. That is the fate for any angel that produces nephilim, and no angel had strayed since."(1)"Well, obviously one did," Dean snorted derisively."Yes, that is why I said 'no angel had strayed,'" Casitel clarified, still refusing to make eye contact with the brothers. "There are exceptions to the rule. The prophecy called for an abomination. We realized it had to be a nephilim, as it was the only creature aside from an angel that could counteract the cross of such large volumes of demonic and human magicks. It was decided that the angel would have to procreate with a human and that angel who procreated would not be punished by Heaven for the task.""Why?" Dean asked, intrigued. Sexual taboos and 'exceptions to rules' always intrigued him for obvious reasons. "Because it was prophecy? Because it would be an angel doing the catching instead of the pitching?""The exception is because the act would be for mere procreation not lust," Castiel answered, his gruff monotone having a snappish quality to it. He then finally looked at Dean and tilted his head, his blue eyes confused. "I do not understand that reference to catching and pitching – is that a sport? Because no sport was involved in it."Dean smirked and opened his mouth to answer, only to be cut off by Sam who glared at his brother."What Dean means is that, was the reason the angel would not be punished because human would be the one to, uh, have intercourse in the angel and, uh, impregnate the angel," Sam responded, his ears tinting pink. "Since the prophecy said Son of God and Son of Adam – and you've told us countless times that angels don't have genders, so the angel was wearing a female vessel and was impregnated. Right?""No," Castiel replied. "Each angel was created individually by God's hand. Angels cannot carry offspring, because we were not created that way."The brothers both looked at each other in disbelief as they realized what Castiel was saying."Wait – are you saying that an angel knocked up a man?" Dean exclaimed. "That's crazy – men can't get pregnant.""No, not biologically – but those born with a great amount of magic can," Castiel replied and looked away again. "Men born with magic can carry a child to term and birth him/her. The magic transfigures the wizard-carrier's sperm into an egg and fertilizes the sire's sperm within the egg, making a child. The child grows in a womb created and sustained by magic within the carrier. Then a passage is created for the child to birthed out of. It's all seamless, really.""We'll take your word for it," Dead said, looking queasy."So – why with a wizard?" Sam asked, his mind boggled as well. "I mean – I know that the prophecy said Son of Adam, but – still, why not a woman, or a born witch?""The magic it takes to support a male pregnancy is very great – that is why only those wizards of high magic ability can conceive and carry a child to term," Castiel explained. "Growing within a womb of pure magic, the child becomes saturated with power. His/her magical core is larger as a result – they can retain much more power. It is very rare – and those children are highly valued. Such a child's power in conjunction with nephilim abilities is a deadly force indeed – more than enough to take down the warped soul of Lord Voldemort."So, an angel came down from Heaven, lay with a wizard, and sired a child. He was told after that a child of prophecy would be born from their union, but he did not believe until a month later, when he learned of the pregnancy. He was cautioned to hide the child, so as it keep it safe so it would grow into the warrior that was needed. The wizard married a dear friend, and she pretended to be with child, and he hid his pregnancy with glamour magic. The nephilim that was born to them was Harry James Potter."The couple was killed when the boy was a year and a half old by Lord Voldemort. Just as there was an angelic prophecy about the Dark Lord and the boy that would defeat him, the angels created a human one. It was arranged that his spy would hear part of the human prophecy that stated that a boy born at the end of July to those who had thrice defied him. It happened as planned. The spy reported back its findings, and Lord Voldemort went after them, and after killing the parents, he turned his wand to the boy and cast the highest curse human magic possesses: avada kedavra, the killing curse. The curse was the first enchantment taught to man by Armoni, one of the leaders of the fallen Watchers. As it is the oldest magic humans have possessed, it has the most power: it immediately removes the soul from the vessel. Death is inescapable and no enchantment or armor can block its path... for humans, that is."When the curse hit the nephilim, it rebounded and struck Lord Voldemort, tearing his soul from his body. He did not die, but was left a weak wraith. It took him nearly fourteen years to gain his own body back. This gave enough time for the nephilim to grow into his powers. Two years after gaining his body back, the nephilim and his people were able to track all of the inanimate horcruxes and destroy them. There were only two left. A snake and the one within the nephilim himself.""Wait – I thought you said he could only split his soul into inanimate objects," Sam interrupted. "Why would he put one within Harry – and a snake?""I am not knowledgeable as to why he chose the snake," the angel replied. "But, for the nephilim, it was not purposeful. Let me explain."When a human commits murder, not just killing in self-defense or within war, but the murder of innocents, it splinters the soul. Eventually, it heals but leaves scars. However, that takes time. Someone who can perceive his soul can take the splinter and put it within an object to create a horcrux, with the right pre-ritual. Only humans with some amount of heavenly grace or, like Lord Voldemort, high demonic power can perceive souls. By the time he arrived to kill the nephilim, he had six horcruxes. He intended to use the murder of the nephilim as his seventh horcrux."The magical backlash of the cast spell was enormous. If he had no horcruxes, he would have died instantly. However he already had horcruxes that ensured his soul could not pass to the netherworld. His body disintegrated, but his soul remained. Unknowing to him, because of the murder he committed of Lily Potter and the pre-ritual, the soul left split into two. One half of the soul escaped to the wilds of the Earth and the other half went into the nephilim.""Wait you mean –" Sam started, and now he started to look sick. He thought back to Azazel and what the demon had done to him the night his nursery burned."That thing was in him?" Dean finished for his brother, realizing the other could not. "So was he possessed or what?""Not as such, no," Castiel replied. "He was a living vessel for the soul shard. He carried it within him and it had little effect on his life, aside from inheriting some of Lord Voldemort's magical gifts and having a connection with him. The nephilim would have visions of the other, as present actions were occurring, especially emotional transference – but that was all. The shard never possessed him, because it was too small to do so. So it just sat within him until the final battle, when Lord Voldemort destroyed it himself.""Why would he destroy it?" Sam asked."He did not do so intentionally," Castiel said. "The nephilim was led to believe that he had to sacrifice his life to Lord Voldemort in order for him to be defeated. After instructing a fellow comrade to kill the snake, the nephilim walked up to his enemy, and Lord Voldemort cast avada kedvra. What both wizards and all the humans who watched did not know was that the curse would not kill him but rather killed the soul shard within the boy, destroying it."Surviving the curse caused enough confusion for his side to have the upper hand. His comrade killed the snake, and the nephilim defeated Lord Voldemort. And his purpose was complete."Castiel, who had been staring at the ceiling, now stared at his hands and flexed them. At that moment, Dean noticed he was still holding the angel's wrist and quickly took his hand away and glanced at Sam and felt relief when he saw that the other was not paying attention to the actions of his brother's hands. Then he noticed that Sam was wearing bitchface #7. Shit."And then what happened?" Sam asked, his voice lowered and his eyes bright. Castiel snapped his eyes up and caught the man's, and even he realized the younger Winchester was upset. "What happened to Harry?""The nephilim was... disposed of," Castiel answered. "Or so we thought." And put his head to his hands and sighed."What the fuck," Dean barked out, and Sam looked just as livid. "So, this kid who sacrificed everything to take out this Vol-De-Douchebag was killed for his efforts? Seriously, what the hell, Cas? Is that what we're fighting for? To kill kids who did their part?""How many werewolves, vampires, and other creatures have you killed in your day?" Castiel asked, heat coming into his voice as he raised his head and stared Dean in the eye."That's different," Dean snapped defensively. "They had hurt or killed people. They were a danger to society.""And so it was determined the nephilim would be," Castiel countered, though the heat was gone from his voice. The angel looked exhausted, and that startled Dean. He understood for the first time the toll that being cut off from heaven must have been causing the angel. "You weren't there when they were first around. Back in the days before the Great Flood. They only brought destruction in their wake – no goodness for mankind. They are abominations for a reason."And this nephilim had great power, and once he killed Lord Voldemort, he continued to kill. He tore through creatures and humans alike, and smote the demons as Crowley said. How many more would he have destroyed? How many of his own people would he have taken down? So it was decided... he would be smote. And so it was. Heaven's grace fell onto him like a lightening bolt and he erupted into black flames. He let out one final surge of energy, destroying all of the demon's vessels. The 'red' in the shockwave was from the disintegration of their bodies: they all turned into a red mist. Nothing was left of the nephilim but ash.""What did his angel-father think of this?" Sam asked, furious. "Didn't the dick care that his son was killed by his brothers?""He – he felt," Castiel whispered, looking away from them again. "Angels do not have emotions: it is a failing to have them. He admitted his feeling to Uriel who did not send him to Tartarus with the other nephilim sires, because the angel had been honest and had not tried to hide his feelings. He was, however, re-indoctrinated, to gain more solace and understandings that it was the Father's will that it be done and to obey Father and his ways. The nephilim had to be created to counteract the evil. It was the only thing that could be done to save Father's ultimate creation: humanity. And once he had done so, he needed to be put down, to prevent more destruction of humanity.""So you dicks used him as a weapon!" Sam exclaimed, and stood quickly from his chair. "Created to take down a monster and then disposed of. I can't believe I prayed to you lot – that I prayed every day. That you would create a child only to be used in war – oh, wait that's what you did with us, wasn't it –""Sammy-" Dean called, trying to calm his brother down."Just created us to be meat suits," Sam continued, "to be part of your little apocalypse party.""I don't believe in that anymore," Castiel argued, and Dean thought he looked ashamed."In what? The apocalypse or killing Harry?" Sam accused.Dean wanted to defend Cas, he really did, because Sam was scary when you riled him up as much as he was now. But he was also wondering that same question. His heart pounded harder when Castiel did not answer."Cas, would you kill him if you had the chance?" Sam asked, leaning on the table with both hands, his jaw clenched and eyes burning. Shit, Dean thought, when did his little brother get so intimidating?"No, I will not 'shoot first, ask questions later'" Castiel finally answered, though he looked in pain to do so. "But even the thought of him – he is an abomination to my species. He feels wrong. That will not go away."He glanced away for a moment, gathered his thoughts, looked back at Sam, and leaned forward towards him, as if trying to intimidate Sam in return by mirroring him."But you must understand, that he may be a danger to society," Castiel said firmly, and was that a hint of sadness Dean heard in his voice? "He may have to be disposed of. Again. Do not for a moment let your guard down around him. The nephilim eradicated hundreds of demons with his bare hands and destroyed even more vessels. He slew a wizard who had more control of human and demonic magic than any other in a millennium. Two humans would mean nothing to him. You must be careful. We don't even know how he survived or how the Deathly Hallows works."Sam sighed and looked as if the wind left his sails. Although he thought it was awful that the angels had yet again manipulated people, he had too much experience as a hunter not to heed Castiel's warning. Just because someone was forced into something did not mean they were not dangerous. He slumped down into his chair."So you guys didn't know about the Death Master stuff?" Dean asked, picking up on that bit. That would explain why the angels thought the boy was dead."No, we were unaware," Castiel replied. "We saw only ash in his place. There was a tiny bit of grace left, but just remnants. Not enough for even a child nephilim, let alone an adult. The nephilim were sent to purgatory upon their deaths, a place angels cannot tread, so we did not check. Not that we thought we needed to.""Anything else we need to know, Cas?" Dean asked, and took a long breath when the angel shook his head. It was a long day, and it was about to get longer."OK, well, now that everyone here is on the same page," Dean said, glaring at Cas, who looked away from him. Again. God that was getting old! "Let's rehash our plan to trap him and get the ring. We may need to make a few changes since now we know he's an entirely different species." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It was nice spring day in the Brecon Beacons. The fairly constant rain had allowed the greenery to multiply abundantly amongst the rocky hills and mountains. Surprisingly, today there was not even a hint of a cloud in the sky, just pure blue and a bright sun. The plush green hills rolled and spiked up from the earth, and a black bird flew to a nearby tree.If his soul wasn't on the line and he wasn't having hallucinations of the hounds, Dean would have thought it a beautiful sight. As it was, Dean kept his eyes clenched close as Sam held his arm, keeping him grounded in this reality. They sat in one of the valleys on the plush grass, alone as far as they could tell. Except for a few sheep. It was Wales after all."Son of a bitch," Dean cursed, and put his fist to his mouth, trying to keep from being sick."Dean, it's not real," Sam said, trying to calm his brother. "We still have two days. Let's just try to enjoy them OK?"After Castiel confessed what the true nature of the Death Master was, the brothers decided they would have to be extra cautious while going about their plan. No one had any idea how the nephilim tracked the contracted souls, so the Winchesters and Castiel took no chances. After dropping off the men in the UK, the angel vanished, not wanting to spook the target. The brothers themselves just tried to act like tourists and that they really did believe that Dean was going to lose his soul at the end of the contract.Dean had a feeling that a part of Sammy feared that was what would happen; but Dean trusted Crowley – not his word, but rather his self-interest. If the demon took his soul, then their side would lose, and thus he would lose. Not only that, but Sammy would make it his mission to burn Crowley by any means necessary that was for sure. No, Crowley would keep to the contract.But, fuck if it didn't suck balls in the interim."Dean, are you in there?" Sam asked, shaking Dean's shoulder."Yeah, yeah, I'm here, Sammy," Dean replied and took breath. He opened his eyes and let out the breath he held when he realized the hallucinations were gone. For now. "Yeah, I'm OK for now." He took in the view and whistled. "This sure is a nice place. Why'd ya pick to come here? How'd you even know about this place? I'd never even heard of Wales before." It was the truth, even though he was play-acting."Well, I read," Sam said, and although his tone was bitchy, he was smiling. He did soften his tone as he continued. "And I know you hate the city and just toured London because I really wanted to. So, I researched and thought this would be a nice place to camp. Just the two of us.""With lines like that, no wonder people think we're gay for each other," Dean smirked, unable to resist, and earned a punch in the arm from his brother."C'mon bro, you going to help me set up the tent?" Sam said as he rose from the ground and started to make his way over to their gear."Nah, I'm just going to let you do all the work," Dean said as he lounged on the grass. "God knows you owe me from all the time I did all the work when we were kids."Sam opened his mouth to reply, but thought better of it. Now was not the time to bring up old drama. So, he just sighed and went about finishing making up camp. They had been half way through when Dean heard the howl of the hounds and began to hallucinate.Dean kept staring at all the greenery when the black bird cawed. It slightly startled the man, though he would never admit it, and he quickly turned his attention to the bird.It was a large black bird, larger than the grackles he was used to at home. This one seemed strange, though. The bird just stared at him and tilted his head as if it was trying to understand him. When Dean mimicked the tilting, it cawed at him again."What are you doing Dean?" Sam called from where he was putting up the tent."There's this crow just starin' at me funky," Dean said, and the bird ruffled its feathers in response and turned its head away from the man. "It doesn't seem to like me calling it a crow, though.""Of course not," a voice said behind them. "Branwen is a raven not a crow. Just a matter of a pinion (1), but she get's fussy."Both Sam and Dean jumped to their feet and turned around to confront the voice.A black-haired giant (2) with a scared face and jade-green eyes met their gaze. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- (1) In an abandoned castle on a cliff in Wales, sat one Harry James Potter. The wizard had come to the training room to release his anger, and release it he did. Dozens upon dozens of dummies were now bits of fluff and cloth. Not even the walls remained unscathed. Deep scars bit into the stone like claws from a dragon. And in the middle of it all, Harry sat, feeling alone as ever. He didn’t even try to wipe the tears from his face, knowing it was useless. Only more would come. His dad was dead. He was orphaned, again. DMASDMASDMAS When Gabriel had picked him up from the ashes, the angel had done more than collect a baby phoenix. He had touched his heart and helped him see how life was worth living. Harry had welcomed death twice that day. Once to Voldemort’s wand and then to the angelic smiting. Upon waking from his first ‘death’, he had been surprised at the power that pulsed through him. Taking advantage of the boon, he continued to slay the demons, becoming wild as fiendfyre in his demonic obliteration. When the smiting came, he thought it was some demonic power finally gaining the upper hand and did not try to fight the awesome surge within him. He had accepted his role as a weapon, and now fate determined his task complete. Harry had felt relief, as he had never any intention of surviving the war. What use was the shell once the explosives had detonated? He welcomed death a second time and burst into flames. What he had not expected was to transform into a black baby phoenix and be struggling for air in the ashes. All around him was chaos. Harry had been half convinced that he was in hell with all the terrible giants around him, nearly stepping on him in his makeshift nest. There were terribly loud shouts and screams, and his arms weren’t working to let him cover his ears. Not to mention the red mist that covered everyone and everything. Suddenly, a large hand picked him up, and he was flown away from the carnage. Days later, Harry awoke from a deep sleep to a face centimeters away from his own. Starting, Harry backed up the bed before he slammed his head on the headboard. The face started to laugh and introduce himself. Gabriel. The archangel now imposter-trickster had saved him. As the angel explained to him the prophesy and all of the angelic actions that led to this day, Harry knew he should become angry, furious even that his life had been controlled in such a way. He had no mother; his sire had abandoned him and let him die; he had been smote by the very angels that had created him; the list went on. But all the boy felt was numb. “Then why am I alive?” Harry finally asked. “If God wanted me dead, how have I survived? Am I just some freak –” “Never call yourself that again,” Gabriel said firmly, becoming serious. The angel took Harry’s hands in his and looked him in the eyes. “You have been blessed. Your first resurrection was a trick of the horcrux. The curse killed the shard of Voldemort’s soul that resided inside you. But the second – that was blessing from Father. Phoenixes are rare because they are the souls of the resurrected of God’s chosen, gifted with eternal life.” “So Fawkes -?” “Her name was Ariana Dumbledore. Even in her addled mind, she knew that her brother and his lover Grindewald were going down a dark and dangerous path. Nothing but a serious shock would shake Albus from the path – and what was she but a burden? At least in this way, she would be of use. So she stepped into the fray and sacrificed herself to save her brother’s soul. She succeeded. Albus became a pillar of light as he pursued redemption. In return for her sacrifice, God granted Ariana life renewed as the phoenix, where she stayed as protector and confidant to her brother. Upon his death, she chose to follow him.” “How do you know all this? Does He – does God speak with you? This all seems so fantastic –” “More fantastic than your own life? But no. Father has, well, left the building of sorts. However, it was always my duty to attend to the martyrs, those granted new life. Even though I left home long ago, that is one duty I cannot give up. As I was with you, I was with Ariana. You call to me, and I come – gladly. Just by your existence, you are proof that Father has not abandoned us, albeit being slightly neglectful.” “Why? Why would he save me? Especially if I am an – abomination. Why would he do so?” “That I don’t know. But I won’t question it. He decided you were worthy enough. And now, it is my task to help you.” DMASDMASDMAS Over the next few months, that was just was Gabriel did. He helped Harry train and control his powers. Until the final battle, the nephilim powers within him seemed to be dormant within the boy, and to the outside world he looked ‘normal’. Gabriel believed this was because the angelic grace was fighting the horcrux from taking over his body, and with so much effort there, the angelic traits receded. After the horcrux was removed, the grace became uncorked and began to change him. His magical core increased, he became taller, and his control over his anger decreased. The last change was a surprise. Harry had thought that his angel blood would cause him to be more peaceful, not to reduce his already short fuse. Gabriel laughed at that statement. “Angels are warriors first and foremost – soldiers for the Lord. Violence is nothing to us, as long as it is with purpose. Throw in your pesky human emotions, and that makes you a dangerous opponent. It is why most nephilim were destroyed and why they wanted to destroy you. Great power with little control means ‘Danger Will Robinson.’” “What?” “Man, you really haven’t seen that film? So good. Anyway, what you and I will do is work on meditation. If it works for Bruce Banner, it’ll work for you.” “Who?” “You’re useless, kid.” After months of mantras, breathing exercises, and seventeen destroyed windows, Harry finally reined in his temper. The key he found was not trying to squash his anger down – that only led to it building up and releasing with only a little pressure. No, he let his anger simmer constantly, but never letting it reach a boil. DMASDMASDMAS Until today, that is. DMASDMASDMAS Over the years, Gabriel and Harry had bonded. The archangel got him through his post-suicidal depression and gave him purpose. When the demons started to return to the island, Harry could feel their presence. As the only being that both had the ability and the willingness to purify the demons and rescue the poor souls promised away, the boy felt he had no other choice but to attack the evil in his land. Gabriel fully supported this endeavor and helped train him. While Gabriel had punished ‘douchebags’ in his day, the angel felt it too dangerous to attack demons. They would sense his angelic grace and blow his trickster cover. The first bout against the demons only left Harry with one stab wound in his side that healed quickly enough. By the third and fourth, he was able to destroy them seamlessly, and soon the demons learned from the lesson of others. Harry James Potter was now the guardian of the island, and demons feared him too much to return. Sure, every now and then there were pop-ups in demonic activity, always having to do with a deal about to be realized. Given the hellhound activity before each event, Harry had enough time to track down the souls and the crossroad demons before the deal was fulfilled. When Gabriel asked him why he released the souls, some of whom deserved Hell, Harry answered that every being deserved a chance at redemption. Severus Snape had taught him that. It also didn’t help that he acted as Death himself when he smote the demon and told the soul this was their chance to make things right and that he would know if they continued down their damned path. The threat he made wasn’t a light one. To release them from the deal, he found that he left a mark on their souls. He thusly knew which ones were those he saved and was able to check up on them from time to time. Only two of the hundreds he had dealt with turned their noses up at his warnings and continued their ways (a politician and a TV chef), and Gabriel punished them in his stead, wanting a piece of the action. As stated, all the rest turned their lives around. Some genuinely regretted their decisions. The good majority, however, were terrified of Harry returning. DMASDMASDMAS Harry made an imposing figure. At 6’3”, his flyaway raven hair and porcelain skin contrasted his jade green eyes magnificently, at times making them seem to glow as green as Avada Kedavra. But what always struck fear into the hearts of those who saw him was his scar. Not his lightning-bolt scar – that one was mostly covered by his fringe and had actually receded since the horcrux was destroyed. No, the scar that transfixed them was a tree-like scar that ran from his forehead down to his chest. (2) [AN: Imagine going from the forehead to the chest instead of on the arm.] The mark of the angelic smiting. Gabriel said he had barely been able to save his eye and found the scar was too deep for him to heal. Harry didn’t mind though. He had come to accept his scars, and it served as a reminder of his place in the world. A discarded weapon. His conception and birth were all for the purpose of creating a weapon to fulfill a prophecy. Although he had accepted his role as a weapon in the war, it still burned him that he had been used in such a way. What especially pained him were the actions of his sire: the angel had used his father and knowingly impregnated James, abandoned James after the conception, abandoned Harry to the Dursley’s upon the deaths of James and Lily, and did nothing to stop his brothers from smiting his son from the Earth. Even the wizarding world had abandoned Harry after all he had done for them. When Harry had mentioned to Gabriel that he wanted to contact the Weasley’s and Ron and Hermione to let them know he was alive, the archangel had told him the bad news. Even after his death, they had betrayed him, giving interview after interview on how they were glad that Harry Potter had died that day, else they would have had another Dark Lord on their hands. Harry had refused to believe Gabriel, screaming and shouting at the angel and ruining all the furniture in the east wing’s sitting room. Once he calmed, Gabriel showed him all of the Daily Prophet articles. “Golden Boy Not So Golden, Best Friend Claims” “Potter Became What He Swore to Defeat, Granger Claims” “Ginny Weasley Broke Up with Potter, Fearing Safety” The articles went on, each one worse than the last. Harry lashed out, destroying every object in his path. “How could they?” He seethed, his anger rolling from him in waves. “After everything I did –” “Calm yourself, little one,” Gabriel said, putting his hands on the nephilim’s shoulders, keeping him still. “You must forgive them.” “Why?” Harry spat, struggling in Gabriel’s hold. “They don’t deserve –” “Precisely,” Gabriel interrupted. “They don’t deserve it, which is why you will grant it. It will take time, but you must start to try. They are misguided fools. They do not deserve your wrath; they deserve your pity. Wrath will only do more harm to you instead of them. It will eat at you until you become what they think you’ve already become.” “What is the point, Gabriel?” Harry cried, slumping in the angel’s hands. “Why did God save me? To punish me? I’m alone, after all I did for them – I don’t understand! My friends – they were family! They betrayed me – and even my real family betrayed me – Castiel –” Gabriel embraced the boy, and Harry leant into the touch. He could feel warmth radiate from the angel and, with a woosh, felt invisible wings enclose around them. “I don’t know, Harry darling,” Gabriel said softly. “But I know it was not to punish you. Together, we’ll get your life back on track, and fuck the rest of them. We’re a family. You are my nephew, and I will take care of you. I promise.” Whereas Severus Snape taught Harry the importance of redemption, Gabriel taught him forgiveness. He would never forget the betrayals (hence, welcoming his scars), but he would endeavor to forgive. DMASDMASDMAS The archangel fulfilled his promise to take care of Harry. Aside from giving Harry purpose as a guardian, Gabriel had become his dad. The archangel trained him, fed him, watched films with him, and some days just spent hours upon hours talking with him about his hopes and dreams. For the first time since Sirius, Harry felt loved by a father figure. Over time, Harry began to call Gabriel ‘dad’ in his head, and one day it slipped out. Instead of being offended or making fun of him, like Harry feared he might, the archangel merely smiled and said, “Love you too, son.” The smile that Harry had was so wide, his blushing cheeks hurt. DMASDMASDMAS After the first year of stabilizing Harry’s powers and anger and getting him set up to protect the island from demons, the pair didn’t spend all their time together. Gabriel went back to his job trickstering, but he made sure to visit Harry often, usually bringing a present. As much as Harry wished he could travel with Gabriel, it was too dangerous to do more than the odd demon hunting. Although Gabriel had carved into his bones sigils preventing angelic location, the chances of being spotted by the increasingly active angels were too much. It wasn’t too terrible being cooped up on the castle grounds. It was an unplottable location with wards so strong it would take an army of angels to penetrate. Harry tended to his gardens, selling potions ingredients under a false name. Over time he gained familiars, a raven named Branwen and a snake named Anani, so he didn’t lack company. Mostly, he enjoyed flying as his phoenix form. Feeling the air between his feathers was better than flying a broom any day. Harry’s life was peaceful now. Since the tenth anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, the demonic activity on the island had become nonexistent, all demon deals being destroyed and no new demons daring return to create new ones. So, most his days were relaxing in his garden or amongst the clouds. DMASDMASDMAS Then Gabriel came with news of the Winchesters and the scuttlebutt on Angel Radio. The angels, having seen Harry’s prophecy fulfilled, decided to put the apocalypse into motion using the Winchesters and brought the Righteous Man out of Hell. The seals were broken, the Four Horseman roamed the Earth, and Lucifer was released from his prison. The only hitch in the plan was the Winchesters themselves, who refused to submit to their respective angels. Once Gabriel finished ranting and raving about how the brothers would not take their rightful places, Harry spoke his mind. “They do have a point,” Harry said, causing Gabriel to whip his head toward him, bug-eyed. “The Apocalypse will destroy life as they know it, and how do they know if there really will be peace in the end?” “What, you’re on their side?” Gabriel accused, huffing into the armchair across from Harry. “Hear me out,” Harry replied, holding his hands palms up. “I’m just saying I understand where they’re coming from. I know what it’s like to be created to fulfill some angelic goal and the consequences of that. It sucks.” “Yes but you went through with it,” Gabriel countered. “All I was sacrificing was myself,” Harry replied. “This would mean sacrificing the world.” “That’s not true –” Gabriel refuted. “Isn’t it?” Harry replied, steepling his fingers together. “Why do you insist that I stay here except for my few patrols around the country? We don’t know whether all the angels coming down on me as one will destroy me, phoenix or not. In a war between Michael and Lucifer, what do you think would happen to this planet? Even if some survived, what would be left for those ‘chosen’ in their new paradise? “Plus, you have to admit that the angels in charge are being a bag of dicks about the whole thing,” Harry continued. “They know that this is not God’s will since he has been gone for so long, yet that is their justification to their army. It’s a mess of lies and corruption.” “How do we know that’s not what Father wants?” Gabriel replied, play devil’s advocate – poor word choice. “He has not tried to stop it at all, there has been no signs or messages –” “Or He believes in free will,” Harry answered. “Isn’t that why angels were not supposed to interfere after a certain point? To let mankind make it’s own mistakes –” “And look at how many there are,” Gabriel interrupted. “Maybe taking away free will would be the best thing for them.” “You can’t mean that,” Harry snapped. “Yes there were and are mistakes, but overall there has been more good than bad. If given the opportunity, humanity will rise to occasion. Just look at those Winchesters. They have faced so much adversity, they have every right to turn tail and run. Yet, they persevere.” They sat in silence for a few moments before Gabriel sighed, putting his head into his hands. “You’re right, I didn’t mean that,” Gabriel said and then looked up at Harry. “When did you become so wise?” “I had a good teacher,” the nephilim quipped, making the archangel laugh. “You know this means I’ll be putting my neck on the line,” Gabriel said, all mirth fading from his face. “And I may not come back.” “It is better to die defending your friends than scurry away like a rat and let them perish,” Harry replied and stood up, offering Gabriel his hand, pulling the angel up out of the chair. “And I’ll go with you.” “No, you can’t do that, Harry,” Gabriel objected. “It’s too dangerous.” “And I haven’t faced danger before?” Harry scoffed. “Nothing like this,” Gabriel insisted, taking the young nephilim into his arms. “Michael and Lucifer – they have powers beyond normal angels. Even if your phoenix gift saves you, it would be so easy to capture you and lock you away. You can’t risk that – I can’t risk that. And if you’re there, I’d be too focused on protecting you than doing what needs to be done. Promise me you won’t follow.” “But, Dad –” Harry protested. “Promise me,” Gabriel ordered sternly. After a moment, Harry gave in and nodded, leaning into the angel’s embrace. “Good boy. I’m so proud of you. Always remember that.” “Come back,” Harry pleaded. “Please come back. Be safe.” “I’ll do my best, kiddo – and hey, I still have my lucky necklace,” Gabriel replied, giving one last squeeze of the hug. “Love you, Phoenix Child.” And with a woosh he was gone. DMASDMASDMAS It had been a fortnight and a day since Harry sent Gabriel off to war. In that time, Harry had begun to regret his honesty. He should have lied. He should have said that it was best to stay out of the whole thing all together. He should not have let his dad go out there alone. The shouldas went on and on and on. And now Gabriel was dead. Harry was sure of it. The archangel never went more than a fortnight without contacting Harry. What’s more, the lucky necklace Gabriel mentioned was one that Harry had charmed to let the nephilim feel the angel’s heartbeat in the necklace attached around his own neck and vice versa. When Harry woke up, the necklace had stopped it’s thumping. Gabriel’s heart had stopped. Harry’s shock turned into a volcanic anger, and the nephilim went down to the training room before he destroyed his bedroom. DMASDMASDMAS Amani slithered up his shoulder and hissed at his cheek, inadvertently tasting the nephilim’s tears. “Ech!” the snake expressed. “I do not like thisss tassste of the water coming from your eyesss. You are in pain. Why?” “Dad – Gabriel – he isss dead,” Harry hissed out, petting his familiar gently. He continued to sob. “Oh, poor Ssspeaker,” Amani hissed in empathy, wrapping his form around Harry’s head. “He would not want his hatchling to be so morossse.” “What will I do?” Harry asked, finally wiping the tears from his face. “You will fly,” Amani ordered. This made Harry laugh in spite of himself. “But you hate flying,” Harry said, and Amani slithered down back to floor and then faced Harry. “I did not sssay that I would fly,” the snake replied. “You are happiest flying. He would want you to be happy. Go be happy. And find me mice.” Harry smiled and transformed into his black phoenix form. Taking flight, he flew from the training room, through the castle, and out the open window. Maybe if he flew high enough he’d reach heaven. Or wherever angels go when they die. DMASDMASDMAS The sun was shining through the scattering of clouds, as if it was laughing at his mourning. Branwen flew with him some of the way. She instinctively knew that he was in pain and that affection at that point would be unwanted; instead, she could be his companion, his silent vigil against complete loneliness. As Harry flew, he let himself stop thinking. His feathers soaked in the sunshine and the sea-air. He flew up into the clouds until he could feel the ice around him and then dove until he almost crashed into the sea, pulling up mere centimeters from the waters crest. He flew, and he flew, and he flew – until there was little strength left in him. He then landed on one of the cliff sides and splayed out on the grass. Branwen landed next to his head and nuzzled him with her head. ~I dislike your going so high and so low so quickly~ the raven chastised. ~One day I’m afraid you will fall into the sea like a block of ice. But what happened, fledgling?~ Harry told her what had happened, and she mourned with him. ~He was a kind Feathered One, and I will miss him, as well~ Branwen said and then trilled mournfully. ~Do not think of following him, fledgling. The Feathered One would not like that. And you have not lost him. He is with you always.~ ~How do you mean?~ Harry asked, puzzled. The raven flapped her wings and took flight, hovering above him. ~He is everywhere you are, fledgling~ Branwen said, and then landed on Harry’s chest. ~When my mother died, I was sorrowful, but then I felt her in the trees and in the clouds. She was with me and is still with me, just as the Feathered One is with you. Do not try to follow him, because through you, he is still here on this Earth. Time will come, but do not quicken it. Enjoy the magical spark that life is. And who would take care of the snake and I if you were gone? We would kill one another within a week.~ That last line made Harry laugh. ~True enough~ Harry said finally, and then sighed. Closing his eyes, he let the sea breeze wash over him. If he kept very still, he could almost imagine that Gabriel was laying beside him. Harry felt a hand clutch his own and give it a squeeze. As soon as his eyes shot open, the pressure was gone. Harry smiled anyway. DMASDMASDMAS A few weeks later, Harry felt something he had not felt in over two years. Demonic activity. DMASDMASDMAS After careful investigation, Harry discovered the hounds were afoot. Unless Hell had well and truly overrun, this means that someone has a crossroads deal coming to an end. It would not be someone who took the deal in the country. Harry would have known of it a decade ago. No, this must have been a visitor who is spending his/her last days in – Wales? This should be interesting.
1061062	Stories Of Our Lives	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "One Direction (Band)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Dancerlittle", "chapters": "15/15", "completed": "2020-06-10", "published": "2013-11-27T00:00:00", "words": "61,695", "Additional Tags": "Romance, Combat, Separation, Love, Friendship/Love, Falling In Love, Love Letters", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Louis Tomlinson - Relationship, others, Harry Styles - Relationship, Liam Payne - Relationship, Niall Horan - Relationship, Zayn Malik - 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 }	October 2017As far as first meetings go, theirs was nothing special. A typical storybook cliché of eyes meeting across the room -- how many times have people heard that story before?She had just returned home from a trip and was leaving again in a month. A simple night out with friends was exactly what she needed.Meanwhile, he listened to his friends ramble on about their girls (who were otherwise absent for the night) while his bright blue eyes trailed the room. She stood at the bar, half-listening to a guy desperately trying to get into her pants.Claiming he needed another drink, he headed to the bar, stopping a few seats from the girl. He struggled to hear the guy’s pathetic, wooing words. He tried to keep a straight face and pushed his way beside her.Brushing his hand against her back, he leaned towards the couple. “Is there a problem here, babe?”“Not at all honey; Dustin here was telling me about . . . what was it again?” She smirked in the stranger’s direction before pulling him into her.“I was telling her about the charity soccer match my mates and I are playing in this weekend. Ugh . . . I didn’t realize you had a guy. I apologize.” Dustin stuttered, looking between the guy and the girl he had his arm curled around.Watching Dustin walk away, the girl turned to the stranger with a smile. “Thanks but you didn’t have to do that.”“You looked like you needed some help so I was happy to rescue you.”She snorted shaking her head. “Honey, I don’t need you or any other man saving me.”“Oh yeah? You look scared out of your mind talking to Dustin.” He said with a grin.Leaning closer to him, she bit back a laugh at his nervous smile. “Honey, I’ve done stuff that little boys like you could only dream of.”“How about you have a drink with me and we can talk about everything you’ve done?” His eyes held a sparkle of mischief in them as they bore into her soul. His eyes reminded her of her older brother who always got into trouble with his pranks.Shaking her head, she took a sip from her glass. “You’re going to have to work a little bit harder than that cowboy. Any other pickup lines you want to try out?”He was never one to back away from a challenge. “You’re different than most girls I run into. How about we ditch this place and take a walk around the city? I swear I’m not a psychopath or a mass murder.” He raised his hands to demonstrate his pure intention.She ran through the pros and cons of his offer as she put her glass down. “How do you know I’m not the psychopath mass murderer who gets her victims by pretending to be a damsel in distress?”“Are you?” He laughed at her attempt to look tough before raising his eyebrows. “I’m guessing you’re not. If you were a psycho, you wouldn’t have looked me in the eyes. You miss, are bullshitting me. Come on; what do you have to lose? A couple of hours of your free time? I’ll even buy you ice cream!”She spoke quickly with the barkeep and slipped him a 10-pound note before pushing back from the bar. “I can be persuaded to join you for a walk around the city. Only because you promised ice cream.”He ushered her out of the bar and used the throng of people they passed through as an excuse to hold her hand.She pretended not to have noticed it. She took a deep breath and exhaled as they stumbled into the cool autumn air. “So where are we headed exactly? Or did you not figure that out yet hotshot?”He took her raised eyebrows as a challenge and tugged on her arm, leading her down the street to the sleepy city center. He muttered about getting ‘no respect’ causing her to giggle behind him. “So how about your name? I mean if I’m going to spend the next however many hours with you, I might as well know it. I’m trying to rack up brownie points here, not earn creeper points. I don’t want to call you babe or hun – unless you’re into those corny nicknames? Because I’m good at making up nicknames, Psycho.”“Number one, damn you talk a lot. Number two, you’re not a creeper; at least I haven’t made up my mind about that yet. And third, it’s Gia.”Nodding his head in approval, he smiled. “Is it short for anything, Damsel?”She laughed at the nicknames he called her. “Giovanna . . . my parents are Italian. I have three older brothers and when they found out they were finally having a girl, they fell in love with the name Giovanna. What about you, Popstar?” She chuckled because her nickname for him also revealed she knew who he was all along.He stopped walking, causing her to plow into his back. “You know who I am? Are you not a fan?”“Oh your music is catchy as hell, constantly getting stuck in my head, and it doesn’t help that I have two nieces who are in love with you and your bandmates. Sadly, they’re 6 and 8 though one of them is convinced her and the curly haired mofo are going to live happily ever after.” Gia laughed thinking about the two little brunettes she would see in days.They continued walking and ended up in an empty ice cream parlor. “Besides your three brothers, do you have any additional siblings? I mean, you’re Italian after all.”“Yup.” She hit his shoulder for joking about Italians having huge families – even though he was right about her family. “In addition to the pain in the butt older brothers, I also have a younger sister. The house was always chaotic. Never a dull moment. Not exactly sure how my poor parents survived us growing up.”Taking a moment to look up at the board, she weighed her options. Should she be good and go for the strawberry shake or go for the so-good-it’s-bad peanut butter chocolate shake? Strawberry shake won out. He, however, ordered a chocolate concoction with so many fillings and additives that made her head spin. “You’re destined for a sugar rush!”“Good thing you’re here to keep me company then, Italia. Of all the things to choose from, you pick a plain old strawberry shake; I however like to live on the edge. I took a walk with a potential mass murder.” He teased as she went to find a booth for them to sit.Taking a moment to herself to internally freak out, Gia took a deep breath before looking at the man at the counter. She had heard a thousand things from her nieces but the man she walked into the parlour with was nothing of the sort. He made her laugh and paid attention to every little thing she had said. He hadn’t been offended by her banter; in fact, he gave just as much back as she dished out.“Uh oh . . . I sense an internal battle of thoughts occurring. Am I moving too fast for your liking or you taking a moment to pinch yourself that I’m real and not what you thought I’d be?"She looked at him like he had grown two heads. “How the hell are you inside my head? It’s like you knew exactly what I was thinking!”“I have sisters . . . sisters who just started dating so I’m very aware of the look that was just on your face.”Taking her shake from his hands, she smiled in thanks before taking a long sip and thinking about how to word her next sentence without offending him. “My nieces seem to know everything about you and your bandmates. But I’ve realized everything they’ve mentioned is completely and utterly untrue.”“Does it surprise you?”She found herself shaking her head. Gia placed a hand on his. “No, not in the slightest.”They sat in silence and enjoyed their shakes. Their minds each were in different places but both were curious about the other person in the booth. “So this is a little unfair. You know way too much about me but I hardly know anything about you. So have at it. . . tell me everything about you.”Glaring in his direction, she took another sip of her shake and savored the sweet mix of ice cream and strawberries. “Oh boy - where do you want me to start? Can I at least have some questions to answer?”He wanted to hear everything about her. “Welcome to my life, sweet cheeks. Questions? Hmmm . . . what can I ask you?” He put the hand that wasn’t holding hers to his chin. “When is your birthday? What do you do for a living? Favorite food? What do you do in your spare time, aside from shooting down guys like Dustin?”Her eyes widened at the rapid succession of questions from him. “All right; birthday is the 6th of January; favorite food is pasta and cereal; and spare time . . . don’t have much of that but when I do I love to get lost in the city exploring antique stores.”He liked those answers. “You missed one – what do you do for a living?” His eyebrows raised in anticipation. “And remember that Psycho or Damsel is not an official title for anything.”Taking a deep breath, she pushed her shake aside before leaning forward a bit. His grip tightened on their joined hands. Letting the breath out slowly, her eyes met his in a nervous flick. “I’m a bombardier for the British Army.”He was silent for a few seconds. His eyes were wide with astonishment and he kept opening and shutting his mouth without a sound. “Wait, what?”She laughed at his sudden discovery of his voice. “You heard me.”“So you were serious when you said that you’ve done stuff that I could only dream of?” He was still in that shocked as hell trance. He couldn’t believe the woman sitting in front of him was a bombardier – his grandfather was one back in his heyday and the stories he told were absolutely amazing.Nodding, she thought back on all the places she had traveled to and all the opportunities she had because of her career. “Oh yeah; I’ve been to places you only thought of and worked with equipment you can only dream about. I take it you know what a bombardier is?”“My granddad was one and the stories he used to tell would keep me entertained for days. The way he talked with such pride held you in a trance that was hard to break from. So I know what he did as a bombardier but what does the job entail today?” He leaned back and looked at her with nothing but curiosity on his face.Good, she thought, at least he had some knowledge of her job. It was always hard telling people what she did for a living so the fact he had some background knowledge was a huge weight off her shoulders. “I am the lead engineer on the bomber airplanes for the Royal British Army. I have held bombs in my hands that could level cities and installed automatic guns into those same bombers. I have to travel often to inspect those bombers and make sure they are in tip top shape in case they are called into action.”“Where have you traveled? Are you currently on leave? When do you go back? How did you get involved with the Army?” He was curious about all that she had accomplished and wanted to ask more questions but managed to hold back.Taking a slurp of her shake before running a hand through her hair, she sighed. “Of course you’d jump right in. I’ve been to Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran, Africa, and Indonesia. I am currently on leave and will go back to base in four weeks. How did I get into the Army? My granddad and dad were both in the army and the stories they told were amazing. I went to uni for engineering, graduated first in my class, and the Army recruited me from there. I’ve been with them for about two years now.”“Wow . . . I honestly don’t know what to say.” He slowly said as she laughed.“You mean the celebrity who wouldn’t shut up a few minutes ago is in awe of me? Surprised by what I do?”He nodded. “Massively . . . never did I think that would come out of your mouth.”“Most guys are shocked as hell when I tell them what I do. A lot of times guys are intimidated by it, but I absolutely love my job; I get such a thrill every time I stand in front of those bombers.”He smiled at the excitement and passion in her voice as she talked about her job. “You get so excited about your job. Have you ever been hurt or in any danger?”“Anytime I go into any country with a war going on I’m in some kind of danger. I was a prisoner for four days in Afghanistan, which scared the hell out of me. The forces stormed in and rescued me and four other hostages. But any real danger? Not really.” She shrugged her shoulders smirking at the look of horror on his face. “So what did you think I did for a living, popstar?”He looked at their still intertwined fingers, squeezing her hand gently. “No real danger? You’re scaring the hell out of me just by talking. I thought you were a nurse or teacher or something along those lines. Can you fly the bombers or just work on them?”“I’ve had my pilot’s license since I was 16. I had a lot of great memories of being in an airplane cockpit from the time I was a baby. It was just natural that I’d get my pilot’s license before I got my driver’s license. My granddad and dad were both pilots while in the Army. So it was natural my brothers Alex, Leo and I all have our pilot licenses. Ava and Ryan hate flying so they avoid planes like they are the plague.”“So Leo and Alex are pilots? What about Ava and Ryan? What do they do?” He shifted in the booth trying to get more comfortable.“Ava is at uni studying nursing and Ryan in a mechanical engineer. Our family is not normal at all. We’re really a bunch of misfits. Leo and Alex are twins who act more like 6 year olds than the 32 year olds they really are. Both of them are married; Leo is the one with the girls and Alex’s wife is pregnant with their first and second, ironically twins. Ryan is 28 and Ava is 23. I’m 24. Whenever the five of us are together its mayhem and we drive my parents crazy. There have been pranks that have put yours to shame.” A hint of a smile tugged on her lips as she thought about her siblings.“Are you sure about those pranks? I pull the best ones off.” Squeezing her hand, he watched her eyes meet his. “When was the last time you saw them? I can’t even imagine what your parents and siblings go through every time you walk into a war zone.”“Uh huh . . . sure we’ll have to put those ‘pranks’ to test one day. I saw them two months ago. Ryan just got married so we were all together for that. Skype is a fabulous thing while you’re away, as I assume you know all too well about. Are you off tour for a while or you heading back out in a few weeks? When was the last time you saw your family?”He let himself slip back into a daydream of his family. He could still hear his four sisters laughing as they ran around the yard or his mother banging pots and pans in the kitchen, baking and cooking his favorite dishes. “I saw them a couple of days ago. We’ve got a few weeks off before we head into the studio to start recording.”“You obviously love your job but it has to get old after a while. I can’t imagine being on the road for months on end. I would get too homesick and miss my family too much.” Shifting in her seat, she stretched her back with a huff.Shrugging, he smiled. “You definitely have to love this job and have a passion for it. The road does get tiring but I’m with my best friends. Performing every night, there’s nothing like it. But don’t you do the same thing? Aren’t you always traveling and moving from one place to another?”“Nah I’ve got a flat here but base is in Hampshire. I only travel for a couple of days at a time. Jet lag is a bitch though . . . I’m typically riding the red eye back so my body is messed up for days afterwards.” She stuck her tongue out at him as he chuckled. “Here’s your fair warning popstar, do not contact me for 48 hours after I return from a trip! I’m miserable for those precious hours after returning while my body kicks back to normal time.”He nodded knowing exactly what she was talking about. “I’m the same. We typically stay up until one in the morning and then hit the sack but our bodies are up by 5:30. That’s the worse part of returning home from tour.”“So any other questions, Mr. Tomlinson? Or is this the part we continue on our adventure of the city?”Standing up, he offered her his hand. They gathered their trash before walking out into the chilly night. “Ummmm what’s a guy have to do to get a second date with you?”“Wasn’t it torture enough to spend the last 2 hours with me? Now you want to spend even more time with me?”Giving her a look, he tried to look serious but failed miserably. “Gia…” It was the first time he used her real name. He let it roll in his mouth. Something told him he would get used to saying her name. “Gia. Come on, give a guy a chance. If you just want to be friends, then that’s cool but I really enjoyed hanging out with you tonight. Like I said earlier, you are different than most girls and something is telling me to keep you around as long as possible.”“I’ll bite, how about we have lunch together tomorrow? You can think of some decent questions to ask and we’ll go from there.”Stopping at the curb waiting for the light to change, he pulled out his phone before handing it over. “Can I get your number to call you?”“That was pathetic, Tomlinson. I anticipated a much better way of asking for my number.” Frowning, she accepted the phone and quickly put in her number before saving it. “I thought they taught you how to be suave and cool in Popstar School. Apparently you failed that part miserably.”He chuckled, knowing that any upcoming hangout times with her would be anything but dull. “I got your number anyway, didn’t I, you quick whippersnapper.”“And apparently your mind forgot to tell your mouth that it’s 2013 not 1920.” She teased, sticking out her tongue.She walked ahead of him a bit, giving him a chance to think on the past few hours. He couldn’t believe that the girl he had ‘saved’ at the bar had been the same girl that is currently putting him in his place. He knew that she was going to definitely change his life for the better.“Yo Tomlinson . . . did I lose you?” Her voice called knocking him out of his thoughts. “Where did you go?”He smiled catching up to her. “I never left.”“Uh huh . . . sure. You were in Neverland, Peter Pan. What were you thinking about?”Shaking his head, he linked hands with her. “Nothing in particular but I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship, Gia.”“Yeah? I think it’s the start of a pain in my butt popstar interrupting my quiet life.”Throwing back his head, a loud laugh escaped, echoing off the building causing her to join in laughter as he walked her back to her flat.They both agreed it was the start of something beautiful. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- October 28, 2017The past three weeks flew by for Louis and Gia. They took walks in the parks around the city, watched movies, talked on the phone at 2am because he couldn’t sleep, explored the shop along the Thames River; and acted like tourists by visiting The London Eye, Buckingham Palace, and the London Tower.The past three weeks had been the best weeks she had in a long time. Louis brought out a new side to her; a side that caused her to act like a six year old and caused her to constantly laugh at the expressions and whispers Louis threw her way. He pushed her to let go of the stress and worries of her career and just live, laugh as often as she wanted; do what she wanted without regards to how dumb or stupid she looked and just live in every second, minute, and hours of the day before her. As a big kid himself, he told her jokes and stories from the road while she listened with every fiber of her being. He was slowly making her fall for the international popstar but to her, he was just Louis Tomlinson.He, meanwhile, couldn’t get enough of Gia. He counted the minutes until he could see her again. He was so enamored with the girl he had met a mere three weeks ago at a bar. His friends and family noticed a difference in him and commented about it. They all wanted to know more about this bird that captured his attention. He held back, Gia to remain his little secret for as long as he could, because after their plans for the night, he would be more aped to tell his friends and family more about her.As of late, his thoughts had switched to the possibility of something more with Gia. He wanted to tell her how he sleeps better after calling his mum, how he gets these five-second panic attacks right before a performance, or how he worries about one of his friends quitting the band. He was worried his job or even hers would get in the way of their relationship. He was worried something would rip her away from him before he could tell her how he feels. He wanted to go on dates and whisk her away to Paris, Barcelona, anywhere she wanted to go. He wanted to meet her friends and learn everything he could about Gia. He wanted her to calm him down after a stressful day at work. He wanted her to be the first one he called when something went wrong with tour preparation. Most importantly, he wanted to call her his. All he had told her was to be ready by 4pm and dress casual. She tried to push him into spilling additional hints but he was tightlipped. She couldn’t believe it; the boy who would not shut up on their outings, actually had the ability to keep a secret to himself.Dressing warmly in jeans, a sweater, and her brown boots, she paced her flat waiting for him to arrive. Her game of Candy Crush couldn’t even distract her as she tried to wait patiently for the man who had captured her attention.She was nervous about keeping in contact with him as she headed back to base in three days. Her job kept her busy enough. Trying to keep in touch with friends and family was tough, let alone with a boy she had just met. Her two past boyfriends had ruined her trust in unfamiliar boys. One cheated on her with his best friend six months into their courtship while the other simply couldn’t stand not being the center of her life. Louis had somehow wormed his way into her life and she worried he would be just like the other guys before him and walk away without a second thought.The obnoxious buzzing of her doorbell drew her out of her thoughts as his voice sounded through the intercom. “Come on Gia . . . the day is young and we aren’t getting any younger. Hurry your butt up Italia! I don’t have all day to wait around for you.”“Shut up Tomlinson; hold your pants and let me grab my coat. I’ll be down!” A smile curled onto her lips at the man waiting for her.Gathering her coat and purse, she headed out the door and locked it behind her. Standing in front of her, literally, holding his pants was Louis Tomlinson.Her laughter captured his attention. “What in the world are you doing?”“You told me to hold my pants . . . I’m doing exactly what you told me to!” He exclaimed.Straightening up, he opened his arms for a hug which she eagerly stepped into. “I’ve missed you these last few days! How bloody dare you go visit your family?”“I’m so very deeply sorry, Mr. Tomlinson.” She pulled back from the hug. “If we’re playing that card, you left me all alone here in London to go visit your family for a weekend. It was only right that you experienced the same feeling I felt while you were away.”She strung her arm through his as he led her down the stairs leading away from her building. He hummed as they walked down the leaf-covered street leading to a destination only he knew. “So where exactly are we going?”“You’re a persistent little thing. Like I’ve told you the previous ten times, it’s a surprise; you will have to wait and see where we end up.” His voice reflected the excitement he held as well as a hint of nervousness. “You ready to head back to base? All packed up?”Shaking her head, she kicked at the leaves that had fallen along the path.He squeezed her arm to gain her attention. She looked at him, frowning. “Sorry. But no I haven’t packed yet. I’m not looking forward to heading back to base. Something is making me want to stay in London.” She bit her lip; her eyes failing to meet his. “Hey, don’t clam up on me now. Why don’t you want to go back to base? You were all excited about it last week when we went to lunch. What about the new bomber coming to the facility you couldn’t wait to see?”Sighing, he unhooked his arms from hers before turning to face her. Placing his index finger under her chin, he gently lifted it until her eyes met his. “Now that I have your complete attention, what’s going on, why don’t you want to return to base?”“I’m afraid.” She spoke quietly.“Why are you afraid, Soldier?”A soft sigh escaped her mouth. “I don’t want to leave you behind and potentially ruin the friendship we’ve built over the past three weeks.”“Hey, hey we are going to be fine!” He cooed.She saw a familiar comfort in his eyes. “You say that now but what about in 3, 6, or 9 months, when you get tired of waiting around for me to come home? What then? You don’t realize it now but I barely have enough time to contact family let alone a boy that I just met.”“Hate to break this to you babe but I don’t have a lot of free time with my job either. I mean, I do now but when it comes time for rehearsals, interviews, and tour, I just don’t have enough time. You may get a random text at midnight because that’s the only time I’m near my phone. We may have to stretch our conversations out in five different phone calls because I only have 5 minutes per call.” He sighed, rubbing his thumb on the back of her hand for comfort. “I’m not going to lie . . . it sucks being in any type of relationship with me. I guess we both have that in common, Giovanna.”Nodding, she relaxed a bit at his words. He is a seasoned pro when it came to leaving his friends and family behind for work. “Sorry; forgot you were an international popstar who has this all down to a science.”“Are you ok now? I’m guessing you’ve had experience with this before? I’m not like them. In the past three weeks, you have quickly become one of those people I desperately need and want in my life. You are one of my best friends outside of the band and one that I trust completely.”His words had struck a chord with her. “It’s ok if you don’t feel the same but that’s what you are to me, Giovanna Maria. You blew into my life with such a force and I’m determined to keep you around for as long as possible.”“It’s a little intense but I feel the same.” She smiled. “You are the person I want to call or text whenever something good or bad happens. I’m constantly checking my phone to make sure I didn’t miss a call or text from you, even though the phone hasn’t left my side. For some odd reason, Louis, I love having you in my life.”“I heard I have that effect on people,” he chuckled. “Are you ok now?”“Yeah there has been a guy or two who couldn’t handle the fact I wasn’t clingy or constantly needing their attention. It’s nice to have a guy know somewhat that I’m not always going to be able to chat but when I do, you’ll be one of the first to hear from me. Besides, there’s always Skype.” She smiled brightly, a weight lifted from her shoulders.Arms locked, the two started walking again. “So now that’s out of the way, what do you say we get this best friend time underway?” “How about you tell me where we are headed before I do something drastic?” She put a serious face on but knew it was an empty threat.He chuckled shaking his head back and forth in thought. “Ok ok . . . you once told me that this place we are heading to is one of your absolute favorite places in the city.”“That’s not fair! I have 20 different favorite places within the city and I’ve told you each of them,” she muttered. When Louis laughed, she hit his shoulder.His jaw dropped. “Ow!"Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. “Big baby! That did not even hurt. Besides you’re not being remotely fair.”“Seems like an argument we had three weeks ago. You will find out where we are going in a little bit but we’re stopping here to eat first.”Leading her into a quiet, off-the-beaten path café wasn’t what she expected from him. But he had surprised her many times during the past few weeks. He helped her sit, pushing in the chair for her. Taking a seat across from her, he grinned watching her eyes dance around the restaurant.After drinks were ordered, he nudged her leg with his foot. “You ok? You look puzzled.”“No just pleasantly surprised by you once again.” Her eyes lit up at the globe lights that were strung along the top of the big bay windows. “It’s like you wormed your way into my brain and you know exactly what I want out of dates, life, hanging out, everything. Part of me wonders, Tomlinson if you stalked me prior to that night in the bar.”He grinned before raising his eyebrows suggestively. “Well . . . you never know.”“Oh I would have known especially with three older brothers who seem to know my every move before I do. But somehow they don’t know about you yet while my mom and sister know there’s a new guy in my life.”“And what does momma and sister Canalanotte say about the new guy in your life?” He leaned back crossing his arms waiting for this bit of news.A smile lit up her face. “They love the noticeable change in my voice and the constant smile on my face. After our first outing after the bar, my mom immediately asked who the guy was. I played dumb but she and Ava both grilled me about you!""So who's the boy?" Ava asked her big sister with a suspicious glance. Gia's eyes went wide, smiling knowingly. "Boy what boy?""The one you're currently smitten over." Her mother smiled. "Why am I only hearing about him now?"Gia chuckled. "Because there is no boy - well there is but he's only a friend.""Only a friend? By the looks of your grin, he won't be just a friend for long." Her mother smirked. “You’re not the only one being grilled by family.” He folded his hands on the table before leaning towards her. “My mom barricaded me in the kitchen and asked me about the girl that had me all smiles. My sisters even noticed the change in my mood. The older two especially wanted to know everything about you.”"So Harry tells me there's a girl." His weekly phone call to his mother definitely started with a bang. He cussed his best friend for being another 'son' to his mother. "Whatever Harry told you, it's most definitely not true.""He mentioned that he didn't know anything about her because you were keeping her a secret." She paused. "My question is, why did I have to hear about her from Harry and not my own son?"He hated when his mum pulled the guilt trip on him. "There's nothing to tell. We are only friends.""But you want something more? Harry told me you have been much happier and in a better mood since you met her." He smiled at her excitement. "So when do I get to meet her?"“And what did you tell your sisters and mom about me?”Shaking his head, his face took a serious pose. “Nothing . . . I told them absolutely nothing about you.”“What?” Jaw dropped, she was surprised by his words.Nodding, he reached for her hand. “I didn’t tell them because I didn’t want to jinx it. I wanted to keep you to myself for a little bit longer. The boys don’t even know; they know there’s a girl but that’s it. It’s nice keeping something to me without the entire world knowing.”“Funny, I feel the same way. I didn’t tell them about you either because I didn’t want anything to jinx what we have or if, if anything goes further, then I’ll tell them at that point in time.” Leaning back, she took a moment while the waiter took their order.The rest of dinner they kept with their own thoughts until the food arrived. They tried each other dishes and kept their conversation playful. They fell into the easy-goingness they had from the very beginning.Once the check was paid, he offered her his hand before leading her out of the restaurant. He smirked as she asked him again where they were going. “All right, you ready to find out?”“Yes! You’ve been teasing me for the past four days and now I’m anxiously, trying to be patient . . . will you please just tell me?” Putting forth her best puppy dog face, he laughed before pointing in front of them.“Look.”Her breath was knocked away as she glanced at the Apollo Victoria Theatre. Her favorite musical of all time, Wicked, was housed in that famous theatre. Turning to look at the man beside her, she didn’t know what to say. “I’m honestly speechless right now . . . thank you.”“Well are you going to stand here or are we going in and enjoying the show?” He was thoroughly enjoying her reaction to his surprise.Leading her through the entrance, he smirked watching her green eyes go wide with excitement. They followed the usher as he led them to the six row seats. Gia took her seat, flipping through playbill, her eyes wide with wonder. “Surprised?”“Yes! I cannot believe you brought me here and we are sitting six rows from the stage.” Leaning over, she gave him a side hug, kissing his cheek. “Thank you.”He nodded. “Anything to see you smile. Now sit back and watch the epicness of Wicked.”For three hours, he watched her more than he did the show in front of them. How her eyes lit up at the theatrics on stage, how she mouthed along to the words, and the pure excited smile that stayed on her face the entire time. That’s all he wanted to accomplish – he just wanted to see her smile.Walking out of the theatre, her hand in his, Louis bumped his hip into hers. “Did you have fun tonight?”“Of course; pretty much any time with you is fun.” She smirked. “Did you have fun tonight? Don’t think I didn’t notice your creeper-like stare during the show.”A blush crept across his cheeks. “Sorry but you were more entertaining than the show.”“I highly doubt that.”Louis chuckled. “When will you start believing me? I was fascinated by your reaction to everything on stage and how you mouthed along to every single song. You were so excited during that peppy pink filled song; I think that was my favorite.”“Haha laugh it up!” Gia giggled. “Glad I was an excellent source of entertainment for you.”Walking back to her flat, the two were quiet, lost in their own thoughts. Hers were about returning to base; his was figuring out when he would see her again. “So what do the next three days hold for you?”“I’m having lunch with my mom and Ava tomorrow and then dinner with the entire family. My train leaves at 2:30 on Halloween so I will probably get breakfast with my girlfriend here in London before I take off.”Smiling, Louis ran his hand through his brown locks. “Sounds like an action packed few days. Any chance of seeing you once more before you leave?”“I guess I can squeeze you in . . . what are your plans for the 30th?”Pulling out his phone, he flipped through his calendar to pull up the date. “I’ve got a meeting from 9:00 am until 11:00 but other than that, nothing. What did you have in mind?”“Lunch, walk around town, getting into trouble, ya know the usual.” Gia grinned.Louis fist pumped, excited for her suggestion. “Sounds like a plan.”They came to a stop at her flat. Their linked hands swung between them. “I’m glad you had a great time tonight.”“I had a great time because I was spending time with you.” She smiled. “I always have a great time whenever you and I hang out; I feel like I don’t have a care in the world when I’m with you and you always never fail to make me smile.”He pulled her into a hug, tightening his grip on her. “Good . . . that’s exactly what I’m going for.”“Louis?” Looking up at him, she bit her lip in hesitation. She wanted to kiss him . . . the thought had been running through her head the last few days. She had started to see him in a different light and thoughts of how his lips would feel on hers started to run through her thoughts.Louis hummed looking at her. “Yes?” He had started to see Giovanna in a different light. He strived more to make her laugh no matter her mood. Anytime she was sad, he wanted to step in and save her from whatever was upsetting her. And now in the moment, outside of her flat, he wanted nothing more to kiss her.“Never mind.” Shaking her head, Gia tightened her grip around his waist.“Gia?”She looked at him again. “Yeah?”Before she could answer him, his phone rang interrupting their moment. Groaning, he pulled his phone from his pocket before cussing under his breath. “What?”Stepping away from him, Gia tried to ignore the disappointment that she felt. Damn whoever was on the other end of that phone; she would be having a strict conversation with them when she found out. Hearing him say goodbye, she looked over at him. “Who was that?”“Harry had a question for me.” Louis groaned. “Sorry about that. Now where were we?”Gia’s eyes went wide. “I have to go but it was great hanging out with you. I will see you on the 30th.”Louis watched her walk up the stairs towards the building, shaking his head. He would kill Harry later but for now all he could do was watch her walk away from him.October 31, 2017He shifted side to side, watching her hug her friend goodbye. In his hand, he clutched a bouquet of roses, daisies, and carnations he picked up from the sidewalk vendor. Louis had nothing better to do than to surprise her at the train station to say goodbye.Their hangout session the day before was perfect. Lunch followed by hanging out at the park, making up stories of couples they saw hanging out. They had both laughed until their stomachs had hurt promising to keep in touch while she was back at base. Gia wouldn’t be back in London until the week of December, which he made her promise to come to his band’s concert at the O2.Louis smiled seeing Gia alone. His eyes trailed her as she found an empty table to sit at. She had just less than 45 minutes until her train left. Walking closer to where she sat, he cleared his throat. “Is this seat taken?”“Uh no it’s not.” She was distracted stuffing something into her suitcase and failed to see who the stranger was.He chuckled at her obvious state. “Where ya headed?”“Hampshire; heading back to work for a couple of weeks.”Finally looking up, she smiled at the man in front of her. “Well, well look who the cat dragged in.”“I’ve never gotten that expression.” Louis grinned. “Surprise.” He spoke handing over the bouquet.Taking in the flowers sweet scent, Gia smiled. “What happened to the four-hour meeting you were supposed to be at?”“I lied.” He shrugged. “There was somewhere more important I needed to be.”Raising her eyes, she looked around at the busy station. “And King’s Cross station was more important?”“When the right person is there, yes King’s Cross Station is more important.”She blushed. “You didn’t have to come here but I’m glad I got to see you one more time. How am I going to live without you for the next seven weeks?”“I think the more important question is what am I going to have to do to make the time go by more quickly?” Louis sighed dramatically. “I mean I’m just going to wither away into nothing by the time you arrive back in London.”Looking at the large clock, she knew their time together was dwindling. “Come on, walk me to my train.”“If you insist.” Standing up, he grabbed her suitcase, offering her a hand. They walked side by side towards the number 12 train that would take her away from London.“So these last four weeks have been interesting to say the least.” Gia started. “I’ve had a memorable time home and it’s all because of you. Thank you for the great times.”Louis bowed laughing. “You’re welcome m’lady. We never had a dull time together. I’m going to really miss you these next few weeks. Don’t be a stranger and call or text when you can.”“You do the same. Don’t give your bandmates too much of a hard time.” Gia pointed at him. “No pranks until I get back.”Louis held his hands up with a grimace. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to hold out for that one but I will try.”“I guess that will have to work. If you do pull any, I want to be the first person you tell.”He pulled her close. “Or you could just scheme with me and I’ll give you full credit.”“That works too.” The train’s whistle sounded the first warning. “I guess I have to go.”Pulling her into a hug, Louis tightened his grip on her. “Be safe and I’m going to miss you.”“I don’t have any trips planned but I will. I’m going to miss you too. Don’t do anything stupid.”Laughing, Louis attempted a nod. “I’ll try but I’m not going to make any promises."The train usher grabbed her suitcase pulling it on the train while Gia looked at Louis. “Don’t make me cry.”“I won’t . . . go work on the bombers and time will go by quickly.” He paused. “Don’t forget about me.”This was his chance to make a move. How she would react? Would she slap him? Get angry and refuse to talk to him again? Would he lose one of the best friendships he has had in a while?He shook his head. Maybe, just maybe she would kiss him back. Maybe she would have feelings for him just as he had for her. Gia laughed. “Hey Tomlinson, what’s with the headshaking?”“I just-- ” Without warning, he leaned his head down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. She wound her arms around his neck pulling him closer. He broke the kiss smiling brightly.“Until next time.”Nodding, she hitched her purse higher on her shoulder, walking up the stairs leaving him on the platform. Taking a seat, she put a hand on the window while he waved happily to her.Well, she finally knew how his lips felt on hers and she couldn’t get the tingly feeling out of her mind.Louis smirked watching Gia’s dazed expression. Shaking his head, he watched her put her fingertips to her lips before smiling brightly out the window. He waved, praying that she would be safe during the seven weeks he would be apart from her.Watching the train disappear from the station, he started his countdown of the next seven weeks. He prayed they would disappear quickly so he could have Gia in his arms again. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- December 8, 2017Six weeks – the length between Louis surprising her at the train station and that very moment in time. She hadn’t been lying when she told him she would have very little time to communicate with him. She sent out random text messages at 3am while working a 24-hour shift. He replied at 9am with banter that made her laugh. Even her coworkers noticed a difference in her.“Tell me Gia. Who’s got you all smiley tonight?” Drew, her best guy friend on the base, nudged her, causing her to drop the phone.Glaring in his direction, Gia played innocent. “Guy? What guy?”“You, along with my wife, are horrible liars. Stick with your day job, hun!” Drew smiled. “He must be pretty special if you’re withholding information from me.”She smiled running a hand along the underbelly of the bomber. “He’s someone I met on leave. We hung out for the entire time I was home and someone I enjoy texting back and forth with.”“And you’re completely smitten with him. Does he know you like him?” Drew was the worse of the guys when it came to gossip.Frowning, Gia shook her head. “No and that’s the worse part. I don’t even know when I’m going to see him again. He’s leaving on a business trip in a few days and the next time I’m in London is for Christmas and New Years but he’s heading up to his family’s place up north.”“Baby girl, you need to chill out. You are working yourself up for absolutely nothing. It will all work out if it’s meant to be.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. Baby girl was the nickname she was stuck with due to being the only girl and the youngest engineer on staff.She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Why can’t life be simpler?”“Because then it wouldn’t be life.” Drew chuckled behind her. “You better toughen up little one. I know you’re only 24 but you have a whole life in front of you that is going to be less than fair. It’s better to learn that now than 50 years down the line. It’s not the end that matters . . . it’s the journey.” The older man was quite proud of himself. “Dude where did you pull that from? Been spending a little too much time in the greeting card aisle trying to make it up to your wife?”“Haha laugh it up sweetie. I can be smart and serious when I want and need to be!” Drew chuckled as a couple of Gia’s cohorts came into the work room with giddy smiles on their faces.Raising her eyebrows, she knew Rosie, Abby and Leah wouldn’t just be visiting the bomber facility just for a social hour. “What can I help you ladies with?”“Someone got a dozen of white roses in the main office.” Rosie smiled. “I was sent to let you know.”Gia shook her head at the three young interns in front of her. “And why did your sidekicks have to tag along with you? Too afraid of walking across campus alone?”“Just passing along the message. Serge wanted us to let you know.” Abby added.Gia smiled. “Appreciate the message . . . I’ll go get them in a bit.”“Gia you need to get out a bit more. We can’t have you wasting away here day after day. “Leah looked at the 24 year old in front of her. "I mean, I can understand why you don't have a boyfriend. Just look at your filthy hands and nails."She giggled. “Some of us have to work for a living. Actually some of us love our jobs. Now kindly leave my facility before I grab security.”Watching the three walk away, Gia turned and looked at Drew with a roll of her eyes. “This is why I hate people on base.”“Aww but baby you don’t hate them; you just have a strong dislike for them.” Drew teased.The two settled into quietness, both working on the bomber. The door opened caused Gia to look over her shoulder. The first thing she noticed was the bouquet of white roses. “Special delivery!”Gia walked over to her best friend, Erin with a smirk. “Rosie, Leah, and Abby beat you to the punch.”“I told them not to come bother you.” Erin muttered placing the flowers next to the phone. “Oh I love punishing the interns.” Erin worked in the main office and one of her duties was working with the interns.Gia grabbed the white envelope, her name neatly typed on it. “They told me I needed to get out of the bomber facility more and stop ‘wasting away’ in here.”“Oh they are so getting it.” Erin snared.By the time Erin finished ranting, she had not only Drew’s attention but all the other bombardiers’ attentions as well. “Don’t you all have more interesting work to get done than to find out who sent me flowers?”“Absolutely not baby girl. It’s not every day you get flowers, much less roses, delivered.” Drew yelled as a blush crept across her cheeks.Finally ripping open the envelope, Gia pulled the card out. Seeing the familiar handwriting on the card caused her heart to leap to her throat. Smiling, she let her eyes skim his words.Hi pretty girl!It’s been six weeks since we last saw each other and it feels like a lifetime. I hope you’re doing well. So these roses are just to make you smile. You sounded down during our last chat so I wanted to cheer you up!Until next time!All my love!LouisThe smile that lit up her face caused Erin and Drew to trade glances. “You all right Gia?”“Uh huh . . . I got the sweetest friend. He knew I was down and sent the flowers.”Erin cleared her throat, grinning at her young friend. “Hate to break it to you but that’s not a friend move . . . he likes you.”“What? No, no, no . . . we are just friends.” She argued shaking her head.Drew chuckled. “Uh huh . . . sure keep living in your little fantasy. To you, you may only be friends but to him that was step one of his plan to make you his girl.”“No, that’s not what this guy is about . . . he and I are just friends. I’m never in London and he travels just as much for his job. It would never work out.” Gia stammered as Erin and Drew, along with everyone listening, grinned.Erin wrapped Gia in a hug. “Why are you fighting this? From what you told me about this guy, he makes you happy and you had a great time with him. What is making you run the other way?”“What if I mess it up? What if I make him run in the other direction?” Her voice dropped to a whisper.Erin cooed. “How are you going to mess up when you’re not even willing to try? He sounds like the perfect guy. Why are you so against this?”“Bryant and Daniel.” She whispered as Erin groaned and tightened her grip on Gia. “I could kill those two. Babe, this guy is so different from those two idiots. He understands that you’re not around a lot and neither is he. But if he’s willing and committed to you then you just need to let yourself fall. He will be there to catch you.”Gia gave Erin a quick hug. “Thank you for always being there.”“Just don’t think too much about it and just go with it. If he likes you as much as you gush about him, you’ll be just fine.” Erin smirked.Looking at the bomber, Gia pushed Louis and the flower fiasco out of her mind before returning to work.4:00pm“Get out of here Giovanna! You’ve been here since 6 this morning.” Drew yelled. “I do not want to see you back here until 9 tomorrow morning and not a second before.”Shrugging on her coat, Gia picked up her purse, sticking out her tongue at Drew before finally walking out the door. Leaving the building, she was delighted when her cell phone sounded from her pocket. “Well hello there!”“Do you actually mean I get to talk to Giovanna Maria instead of leaving her a voicemail?” His teasing voice came over the speaker.Laughing, she tucked her free hand into the coat pocket to escape the coldness. “Why yes you do! Drew forced me to leave the bombers facility so I’m walking across the campus back to the barracks. What are you doing hot shot?”“Just left the studio and thought I should give this girl I know a call. You might know her.” The smile in his voice was evident.Reaching her building, she slipped her key into the lock, letting herself into the warm building. “So what are your plans for the night misses?”“Absolutely nothing. I had to be at the facility for inspections at 6 this morning so I’m going to have a glass of wine and catch up on some reading.”He laughed. “Sounds like a plan!”“I’m so looking forward to it.” After checking her mailbox and disappointed by the lack of mail, she headed upstairs to her room. Walking down the hallway, she stopped in front of room 217. “Hold on Louis. I’m struggling.”“Struggling with what?” He laughed.“Trying to open the door to my room.”Finally putting the key in the lock, she managed to unlock the door, swinging it open. However, what she found caused her jaw to drop. “What did you do?”“Me? I did nothing.” He said a little too innocently for her liking.Her eyes widened taking in the sheer amount of flowers in the tiny space. “Louis William what did you do?”“There should be a note somewhere in amongst all those flowers.” He chuckled.Ten tin buckets full of different flowers were placed around the room. There were pink Dahlias; blush colored Ranunculus; bright yellow Sunflowers; purple Peonies; Orange Lilies; Green Chrysanthemums; Blue Forget Me Not; White Daisies; Red Carnations and Yellow Daffodils. Stuck in the pink Dahlias was a folded piece of black paper. Flipping it open, she skimmed the silver writing.“What do you have up your sleeve, Tomlinson?” His breathing came across the line. “Yeah that’s not creepy at all, Tommo. Don’t forget I’m the Psycho Damsel.”“Just follow the instructions on the card and you will see.”Hi you!Surprised? I know I got you good. Now I need you to do a little work. There’s a spot that you typically call me from on your lunch break . . . that’s your first stop!Bye!LouisIt was good thing she didn’t shrug off her coat, she thought grabbing her keys and heading back out the door. “It’s a good thing I love surprises.”“You will love this!” He gushed, her headed back downstairs.Walking out the door, she headed towards the little park on campus. It was a playground for the families on base. There were several tables around the edge that were typically filled during lunch. “When I get there what am I looking for?”“You’ll know it when you see it.”He was being very secretive which anyone who knew Louis Tomlinson knew that was very uncharacteristic of him.Walking up to the area, her eyes found navy and silver balloons immediately. She quickly undid the bag the balloon were tied to and pulled out another envelope. “You are impossible, Tomlinson.”“Just open the bag and go to your next destination.”Congratulations on finding your clue. Now head to the glass enclosure and you’ll find your surprise.Gia headed to her next destination. “Louis this is too much. You must have spent hours doing this and charmed too many people.”“I had fun doing it. Erin was a hoot while I was communicating with her.” Louis chuckled hearing her gasp on the other end of the phone.“Erin knew?”That sent Louis into full laughter. “Yes she and I have been talking for the past few days. She texted me and threatened to end my life if I hurt you in any way. She said she didn’t care if I was a popstar with millions of fans; she wouldn’t hesitate to hurt me if I hurt you.”“I’m gonna kill her.” Gia muttered under her breath as Louis back pedaled.Louis stuttered. “You can’t kill her Gia . . . she helped me plan this. You aren’t going to want to kill her . . . I promise.”“That’s an awfully big promise your saying, Louis.” Pulling the door to the building the glass enclosure was housed in, she felt the warmth of the building on her skin. “Do you really want to promise that?”“Of course. Now let me go so you can go find your surprise.”Without a goodbye, he hung up on her. Her jaw dropped shoving her phone in her pocket. She stomped over to the door leading directly into the room her surprise awaited before pulling it open.Her eyes went wide when she walked in. The door clicked quietly behind her as she walked towards the illuminated table. Soft music was playing as took in the scene. A table set for two was set; a red rose sat across one of the place settings and silver and navy blue balloon bunches were scattered around the room.“Surprised?”Spinning around, tears clouded her eyes as she saw the man she had spent all day thinking about standing a mere 4 feet away. Without a word, she rushed over to him and threw herself in his arms. He laughed twirling her around as she squealed with excitement.“I take that as a yes.”Wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug, she couldn’t believe he was standing here. “How the hell did you manage to pull this off? Normal people don’t just get clearance onto base.”“Normal people don’t have Erin Hall helping them get onto base either.” He teased. “The boys and I signed a few autographs for some Sergeants’ kids and promised tickets for the next tour and I was able to get a pass for tonight.”Gia pinched herself. “I can’t believe you went through all of this just to surprise me.”“Your face was worth all the trouble and hassle.” Louis smiled giving her another hug. “I was serious earlier when I said I missed you. My life has been oddly quiet since you came back here.”Gia looked at Louis; she couldn’t believe a boy she had known for less than three months had gone through all this trouble. “I’ve missed you too probably more than I’m willing to admit; it was weird going from seeing you everyday to only hearing your voice on a voicemail. I didn’t like it.”“Erin mentioned you had some rough days.”She looked down. “Some were pretty hard. I didn’t realize how much of an impact you would have on my life. Or how much I would come to rely on you.”“I have to tell you something . . . the whole reason I put on all these theatrics.” Taking a deep breath, he stepped back and took one of her hands in his. “After I left the train station, I tried to return to normal life but I couldn’t. You inhabited every inch of my mind. I would walk past places we had hung out and I would instantly get sad because you were away.”“Louis . . .”“I would sit and think about what you would be working on or talking to. I found myself jealous by anyone who got to spend every a minute with you because they had that opportunity. I think that’s why I left you so many voicemails because I missed you.” He took a breath. “And somewhere along the way, I’m not sure where, but I fell for you, Giovanna. Somehow you captured a chunk of my heart and mind and I don’t want those back. So I have a question for you, Giovanna Maria . . .”“Yes?”He grinned looking into her bright green eyes. “Will you be my girlfriend? I know we’ve know each other for six weeks but you’re someone I don’t ever want to let go.”“You’re amazing, Louis. I just had an argument with Drew and Erin about us today and I freaked out about absolutely nothing but right here in this moment, I’ve never been happier.” Squeezing his hand, she grinned. “Yes I will be your girlfriend.”Picking her up, he twirled her around as she squealed. Placing her back on her feet, he moved forward and captured her lips with his. She grinned in the kiss as he pulled away.“So,” she played with the hair on the nape of his neck. “How long have you been planning this?”Louis grinned. “Since you walked away from me at the train station. That kiss we had at the train station left me wanting more. I've liked you for a while.""How long is a while?”Shaking his head, Louis stole another kiss. “I’ve liked you since we first met. I fell for you that night at the theater – you were absolutely beautiful mouthing the words along with the songs. Every little thing you did had my heart racing. Whenever we were apart, I felt lonely and wanted you constantly around me.”"I feel the same; I was too scared to pursue anything." She smiled. "But I'm happy that you're here." And with a kiss, the two looked forward to what the future held for the two of them. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- December 22, 2017She took the train back to London. Her time off started the morning she arrived. After dropping her bags off at her flat, she headed to the O2 arena to meet up with Louis. Her boyfriend and his bandmates were headlining the annual holiday concert benefitting various children’s charities.Pulling into the parking lot, she dialed his number while maneuvering her car into a space. “Hey Popstar, I just got here and parking. Where do I go?”“Just follow the side of the building until you come to the back of the arena. I’ll send our security guard, Paul to meet you.” He said out of breath. “Hey Gia?”Hearing the loud roar, she looked to her left to see girls standing behind barricades with signs professing their love for the boys. “Yeah Tomlinson?”“I’m really glad you’re here. The boys are angry at me.” He confessed.Laughing loudly, she found herself at the back of the arena. “Why are they angry at you?”“Because I’ve been bouncing around all morning singing Christmas songs at the top of my lungs.” He chuckled.She took a moment to envision that actually happening. “Did anyone get footage?”“Ugh . . . Harry might have and Niall too.” He smiled. “They knew you’d want to see what kind of dork your boyfriend is.”Seeing a door open and a tall, bulky man step out, she smiled. “I think Paul has spotted me. See you in a bit.”Disconnecting the call, she grinned at the man. “Are you the infamous Paul I’ve heard so much about?”“Yes I am. Are you Gia or otherwise known as Pain-In-The-Butt Number One’s girlfriend?” Paul asked reaching out to give the girl a hug.Feeling the warmth of his hug, she nodded. “That I am. I apologize for anything he has done in my absence.”“Oh you can stay around. I’m going to like having you around,” Paul said happily holding open the door for her. “He was dancing around like an idiot singing Christmas tunes this morning. I blame Harry for bringing him coffee.”Rolling her eyes, she giggled. “I’m sorry.”“Oh it’s how he always is. We tend to roll with it.” Paul paused. “I will say that I’ve never seen that boy happier than when he came back from seeing you. Those five boys are like sons to me and all I ask is that you don’t hurt him.”She smiled and nodded. “Louis and I have had many conversations about this. Our careers are similar in the fact that that we are so busy during the day but we are both committed to making this work.”“That’s all I ask.” Paul chuckled, Gia following him through the maze of hallways. “When Louis told us about you being a bombardier, this isn’t what I envisioned.”She wasn’t surprised to hear those words tumble out of his mouth. Most people were surprised to see how tiny she was when they learned of her career choice. “And what did you envision exactly?”“I’m not too sure but definitely not this little 5’3 girl with such a big personality.” He chuckled as she mocked glare in his direction.Stopping outside the boys’ dressing room she stomped her foot. “Dammit I’m 5’4 ½ . . . get it right!”“Uh oh someone questioned Giovanna's height!” She heard Louis exclaim as the dressing room was thrown open. Her face lit up with a smile seeing her boyfriend standing in front of her. He was dressed in jeans with a navy blue baseball tee.He reached forward and pulled her into a bone crushing hug lifting her off the floor before she could say a word. “You are a sight for sore eyes pretty girl. How was your trip back?”“Good, no hiccups. Train was more crowded due to the holidays.” She smiled. “You have crazy fans outside all ready . . . it’s really cold out. They’re nuts!”“They’re passionate and dedicated . . . not nuts!” He grinned before leaning down and kissing her. Her arms rounded around his neck as he deepened the kiss.“Geez don’t eat her face off Tommo before we get the opportunity to meet her.” An unfamiliar voice cheekily said behind them.Pulling back, a blush crept over her cheeks, the four unfamiliar boys grinning at the couple. “I was just telling her hello.”“Uh huh . . . that the new way of exchanging hellos?” One of the boys joked as she moved closer to Louis for protection.Louis looked at her with a smile. “And now you’re embarrassing her. Babe, these four lunatics are my best friends. Liam, he’s the normal one; Niall is Irish; Zayn is the quiet one and Harry is the other half of Larry Stylinson. Guys, this is Giovanna or Gia.”“It’s very nice to meet you Gia. Lou hasn’t shut up about you for the past two weeks,” Liam started. “We are all pretty impressed by you.”She smiled already liking the boys. “It’s just a hunk of metal I stare at every day.” Louis laughed at her description of the bomber.“Hunk of Metal? The bombers are amazing!” Harry and Niall exclaimed, causing her to jump at the volume of their voices.“And for you to be the lead engineer . . . you must have some incredible stories,” Zayn added.Louis chuckled at his friends essentially fangirling at his girlfriend’s job. “Just wait until you’re standing in front of one or even flying one.”“You can fly them too?” She had to laugh at the boys' excitement. Turning to her boyfriend, she motioned to the other four. “What exactly did you tell them?”“Just that you worked on the bombers and you did a fair amount of traveling with your job.” He smirked. “Worried I talked you up too much to the boys?”Her eyes went widened with realization. “No but I didn’t know how much you told them.”Gia spent the following 45 minutes answer questions the boys threw at her. Louis had the biggest grin on his face watching his girlfriend gush about the ‘hunk of metal’ as she called it. Somehow he fell more in love with her as she sat and talked about her passion.The boys all disappeared from the room. Gia smiled at her boyfriend brightly. “Hi.”“Hi love. I’m glad you’re here.” Louis said standing from the couch. “I’ve got some other people I want you to meet if you’re up for it.”Nodding, she took his hand allowing him to pull her from the couch and leading her from the room. “It’s like a small army back here with the number of people.”“This isn’t anything yet. Just wait until right before show time.” He paused. “That’s when things get really crazy.”Gia’s eyes widened as they walked through the corridors. “How do you know what you need to do at all the time? I mean, with the production and craziness of this, is it insane to be constantly on time with everything?"“Paul . . . he’s our ‘dad’ on tour and he legit tells us when and where we need to be.” Louis paused at a door. “I’m going to apologize now for anything that may be said in here.”She was confused. “It’s catering . . . what could be the worst that can happen?”“It’s not what will happen; it’s who is behind these doors that will reveal stuff, awful stuff.” Louis, a shiver ran down his back thinking about the possibilities, pushing open the door.Louis led her into the room that held several tables, more than a few filled with people eating. He led her over to a table where three women were sitting with a couple of younger children eating cupcakes. “Well there he is. We were wondering when you were going to show up. The rest of the boys were in here earlier.”“I was spending some time with this girl.” He grinned looking over at her. “This is Gia. Gia, that’s my mum, Jay, my sisters Lottie, Fizzy, Daisy and Phoebe; and Harry’s mum, Anne and his sister Gemma.”Feeling the nerves kick in, she could have killed Louis for not giving her proper warning about meeting his mum and sisters. Suddenly, she felt the need to impress the one woman who sealed her fate with Louis. “We’ve heard nothing but great things from Louis. He’s a tough nut to crack about you, dearie.”“Louis wouldn’t stop talking about you as well. It’s very nice to meet you.” Being pulled into a hug, Gia couldn’t wipe the smile off her face at Louis’ mum's words.Watching his mum and girlfriend interact, the knot of nerves in Louis' stomach disappeared. He was nervous for Gia to meet his family but he knew if he told Gia about it beforehand, she would be impossible with nerves.“Louis didn’t tell me you all were going to be here,” Gia said knocking him out of his thoughts. All eyes turned to him as he held up his hands. “I think I hear the boys calling for sound check.”“Chicken!” Gia yelled after him as she turned back to the strong female influence. “So where were we?”Jay looked at her son’s girlfriend with a smile. “Louis didn’t tell us much about you. How about you fill in the gaps?”“Well . . . not sure what he told you but I’m with the British Army as a bombardier. I live primarily up in Hampshire but have a flat in London. I love the theatre and autumn nights.” She paused. “Anything you want to know? I’m a pretty open book.”Anne smiled liking the girl all ready. “What about family? Do you have any siblings?”“I have three older brothers and a younger sister. My parents have been married 37 years and are still in love as the day they got married.” Gia laughed. “There hasn’t been a calm day since the twins were born.”Gemma laughed. “I sense there was never a dull day in your house growing up.”“Calm houses are overrated.” Gia laughed. “The only calm days were when my parents would send the boys to summer camp leaving just me and my sister at home.”The women fell into an easy conversation, Jay trading stories of when Louis was a child. By the time the boys returned, Gia had an arsenal of stories to embarrass her love with.“What are we discussing here, ladies? How to knit tea towels?” Harry asked taking a seat next to his mum with a cheeky grin.Anne swatted her son as he laughed. “No . . . just filling poor Gia in on the craziness of One Direction. Jay has been swapping baby stories of Louis though so I’d be careful not to make her angry.”“Mum!” Louis’ cheeks turned a nice rosy pink at the mention of baby stories. “You’re supposed to wait until a few months in for those to come out.”"I'm sure my family will bring out the baby stories if you ever meet them." Gia smirked watching her boyfriend perk up at the thought. He cocked an eyebrow in her direction. "If I ever meet them?""Oh you know just in case another man comes along to tickle my fancy." Gia teased. "Like me madam?" Harry slide up besides her with a grin on his face. Giving him an uninterested look, Gia shook her head. "I don't mess around with boys who go through way too many girls to count. No thank you!" "Oh you are staying - I don't care what Louis says. You're part of the family!" Gemma exclaimed causing Gia to grin. "Any girl that calls my brother out like that is ace in my book!" Louis pulled her closer kissing her forehead. "What are you sucking up for Popstar? Guilty of something?"The women around the table busted into giggles at the little five foot four and a half inches girl who had just put two of the biggest pop stars in their place. "No no I ugh ..." Louis stutter causing the ladies to fall to giggles again. Gia saluted in his direction. "That's what I thought Tomlinson."Louis sighed in defeat. "I'm sorry Damsel. What can I do to make it up to you?""That's a loaded question. You sure you want to give me that power Pookie?" Gia smirked.Louis' eyes went wide at the nickname. "I thought we agreed on no more nicknames, Soldier!" "That was you agreeing and me just nodding my head but my fingers were crossed so it voided the agreement." Gia bit her lip, fighting a smile from appearing on her face. Shaking his head, Louis mumbled under his breath. "Women!""What was that darling baby boy?" Jay asked grinning at her son. Throwing his arms up, Louis shook his head at the females in his life. "I can't win!!" "Better to learn that now than five years down the line!" The women laughed causing Harry and Louis to shake their heads. Women - can't live with them; can't live without them. 7:45pmStanding out in the hallway was the first moment Gia had to herself. The afternoon had been spent hanging out with everyone, them getting to know her and vice versa. By the time the boys left to get ready for the concert, Gia had gained four new brothers and five new sisters in Louis' sisters and Gemma. She also had the pleasure of meeting the other One Direction girlfriends. Scarlett was with Harry and managed to keep the cheeky lad in check. She was a Physical Therapist at the local hospital and had been dating Harry the past year and a half.Perrie and Zayn had married in 2014 and had a daughter, Poppy Elisabeth, who had just turned a year old. She was the apple of her father's eyes. She was wobbling around backstage, staring at everybody with her big, dark eyes that were the exact copy of her dad’s. Niall had Tricia, the childhood friend he finally coughed up the guts to ask out in 2014. Gia found out through Louis that Niall would be asking her to marry him in the upcoming weeks. She was a photographer for the local paper and wasn't found without her camera swung around her neck. Tricia had a four-year old daughter, Mollie Anne, from a previous relationship who Niall came to love as his own too. And Liam - dear, dear Liam had gotten back together with Danielle in 2015. They were engaged and planning their wedding for the upcoming year. Smiling at the hustle and bustle surrounding her, Gia wondered how everything went so smoothly. You would think it would be horrendous mayhem but there was a sense to the madness, a kind of feeling that told Gia all of the pieces she saw in front of her fit together perfectly."You ok?"Perrie came up behind Gia with a happy Poppy in her arms. "A little dazed but hanging in there. Hi pretty girl.""Gia!" Poppy warbled, and while the toddler was barely able to speak full sentences yet, Gia nodded at the little child like they were having a serious conversation.Perrie smiled. "I think she's in awe of you. She's not used to sharing her Uncle Louis.""Louis couldn't stop talking about her. He's enamored with her as she is with him." Gia grinned. "You can keep him Miss Poppy." Perrie hesitated. "Hey Gia?""Yes?"Perrie liked the woman in front of her but she was protective of Louis. After the breakup with Eleanor, Louis had gone into a dark depression. He was miserable and if it wasn't for Perrie, Tricia, and Danielle he wouldn't - it was too painful for Perrie to imagine. "Just promise me you'll be patient with Louis." She paused. "I'm not sure how much he's told you but a couple of years ago Louis was in a bad place and the boys along with me don't ever want to see him slip back to that." Gia nodded. She knew some of Louis' past but he hadn't gotten into too much details. "I promise. I've been burned in the past and the last thing I want is to hurt him."Pulling the girl into a hug, Perrie grinned. "All right, I've said my peace now we can boogie all night!" Danielle, Tricia, Mollie, and Scarlett joined the two in the hallway, falling into easy conversation. Soon the hallway became more crowded with the boys and their families. Louis spotted her with a grin tugging her over to stand near his family. Paul yelled for the crowd to gather round. A prayer was said followed by hugs. Paul led the boys towards the stage as additional guards led everyone to their seats. Gia's eyes were wide taking in the sheer scene of the O2. Girls screamed, the arena going black as a video played on the screen. A nervous pit filled Gia's stomach as the video played. Scarlett and Danielle both lopped their arms through Gia's, the screams of the girls grew louder. In the front of the suite, Mollie was bouncing along to the intro with a massive grin on her face. The sound when the boys finally busted on stage was something Gia would never forget. The amazement and grin on her face matched the other four girls to her left and right. From the first note, Gia fell more in love with her man. The grin on his face caused the one on hers to grow. "All right so we are going to get serious for a minute." Harry spoke taking a moment to catch his breath. "It's a special night for all of us. All of our families are here celebrating with us tonight."All of the boys looked up to the suite waving happily. "This next song is for them. We love you all."The opening chords for "Don't Forget Where You Belong" started. Gia moved from beside the girls to where Jay stood, linking arms with her. Jay grinned at the girl that had captured her son's heart. She couldn't be happier for Gia and Louis. "Thank you.""For what?" Leaning in close to Jay, Gia looked puzzled. Jay glanced at the stage, before letting her eyes drift to the amazing girl in front of her. "For being here for Louis, for making him happy. I know it's not easy with his or your job but you are absolutely amazing for him and I couldn't be happier you two are together.""I would never hurt your son." Swallowing the knot in her throat, Gia green eyes glistened. "He means too much to me and your support means more than you'll ever know."Pulling her into a hug, Jay laughed. "Anyone who can put Louis in his place is ace in my book."Turning her attention back to the concert, Gia felt at peace. She couldn't imagine being anywhere else but at the O2 arena. 11:00pmBeing ushered backstage, Gia couldn't get over the past two hours. She had gotten to know the regular version of Louis Tomlinson. But for her to see the celebrity and onstage presence he is was different; not bad, just different. The families had been shown a room where they could gather until the boys finished their meet and greet with some fans. A yawn escaped her mouth causing the girls to giggle. "You going to be ok?""I think so. I'm not used to being up this late," Gia admitted. Danielle and Kate just laughed. "Early bedtime up at base?""I'm typically in bed by 9 if I'm not working a 24 hour shift." Both girls grimaced, Dani shaking her head. "That sounds awful. How often does that happen?""Depends on the week but once or twice. I had three this week due to the holidays." She smiled. "Candy Crush comes in handy during those shifts. And it helps to have a boy who has as much of a screwed up schedule as I do."They all laughed. Their attention was diverted to the door being thrown open. Five tired boys piled in, each with a grin on his face. They greeted their families first. The girls walked over to their respective partners, leaving Gia rooted where she was. Louis threw a look in her direction causing her smile.Slowly walking over to join him, she slipped her hand into his, giving it a squeeze. He never stopped his conversation with his mom and sisters. Giving hugs to his family, Louis smiled watching them leave turning to Gia. "Hi love.""Hi Popstar!" Pulling her into a hug, he relished the feeling of her in his arms. "How was the show?""Good. It was kind of weird to see you on the stage. It was a different side that I hadn't seen before." Gia pushed loose strands of his hair off his face, planting a kiss on his lips. "I loved it. You looked like you were having the time of your life up on that stage." He laughed. "It's always a good time up on stage. But the most important question is, did you enjoy it?" "Surprisingly I did." She teased. "I had a lovely time and danced around with the girls. And your mom and I had a talk." His eyes lit up at the talk between her and his mom. "What did you two talk about?""She couldn't be happier we are dating. She said that anyone who can put you in place is ace in her book." Gia laughed. "And she thanked me." Louis raised an eyebrow. "For what?""Making you happy." Smiling, Louis nodded. "You make me so incredibly happy Soldier. I don't know what I would do if you weren't around." He paused. "Promise me you'll never leave.""You have my word, Tomlinson." She smiled. "As long as you promise the same, Pooks." Placing a kiss on her lips, Louis sighed. He had found his home in the girl that was currently in his arms. And he never wanted to be anywhere else. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- March 7, 2018Today was the day. The day that made both Louis and Gia nervous; the day Louis would be meeting her parents. She was nervous because he would only be the first boy she had brought home to mom and dad. She didn’t know how she had managed that; but today would be the day that would all change.Her mom was excited to meet the boy that had captured her daughter’s heart; her dad was ready to intimate him; her brothers ready with warnings if he should break her heart and Ava? Ava couldn’t wait to congratulate Louis for wooing Gia off her feet.“You ready?” Her thoughts were interrupted by a nervous Louis smirking at her.Raising her eyebrows, she walked over to him. “Are you ready? You are meeting my family.”“Should I be nervous or worried?”Gathering her items, she smirked. “No . . . they are going to love you and you’ll probably hear too many stories about my childhood but you don’t have to be nervous. Don’t take anything that is said to heart – the guys of my family are trying to intimate you but they will grow to love you, just like I do.”His heart exploded at her words. They had exchanged “I Love Yous” just two days prior and he couldn’t stop saying the words to her.FlashbackHe dragged her out to his garden after their date night in downtown London. He had surprised her with dinner before taking in a play at the theatre. The smile he so loved hadn’t left her face the entire night.Now standing outside in the garden, his stomach had tightened. “Hey Soldier?”“Yes Pooks?” Looking over at him for a second, she titled her head back to look at the stars.“How long have we been dating?”“Ugh . . . Since December 8. Why?” Smiling, Gia linked her hands with his as he pulled her into his embrace.Smiling in her direction, he placed a kiss on her lips. “Because it feels a lot longer than that.”“It does indeed, Tomlinson.” She chuckled. “Still amazed you managed to catch a girl like me?”Laughing, he shook his head. “Nope! Amazed you caught a guy like me?”“Of course. I’m so honored to be in your presence, Popstar!” Gia dryly said causing Louis to throw his head back in laughter. Louis squeezed her hand causing her to look at him. He gave her a goofy look making her laugh. “What’s wrong, Tomlinson?”“What do you mean?”Giving him a look, she sighed. “You have been unusually quiet all night. Is there something on your mind?”“There has been but I’m not sure how to tell you.”Gia smirked. “Usually the honest truth is the best route.”Louis took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Rubbing his index on the back of her hand, he smiled. “We’ve been dating for three months now and in those months, I have fallen faster and harder for you than anyone else. You are the only one I want by my side through thick and thin, good and bad times.”“Louis . . .” She whispered hoping he wasn’t going to do what she thought he would do.Shaking his head, he chuckled. “I’m not proposing . . . don’t worry. But in those months, I have come to the realization that I love you, Giovanna. I am completely head over heels, in love with you and I’m not ashamed to shout it from the rooftops.” Gia stood there with a stupid grin on her face. It was a mix between the cold and the fact her boyfriend was so sweet it made her cheeks hurt. “You don’t have to say anything back but know that I love you, Gia and you are the only girl for me.”“I love you too.”She shocked him by saying the three words back. “I’ve known it for a while but I didn’t say it in fear of rushing into it. But I am head over heels in love with you Louis William and there’s no place I’d rather be than here with you.”End Flashback“What’s got you so smiley over here, missus?” His voice broke her concentration on the memory. Looking over at him, a smile crossed her lips.Quickly buttoning up her coat and putting her purse on her arm, she grinned at the man who made her so happy. “Just thinking back to the other night.”“That was a pretty proud moment of mine, if I do say so myself.” He blew on his fingers before dusting them off his shoulder.Scoffing, she picked up her keys before walking towards the door. “Don’t get such a big head Tomlinson. Let’s go.”Making sure the door was locked, the pair headed downstairs to the garage. Sliding into her car, the two were soon on their way. Louis picked music as she headed toward the main road. “What are you thinking about?”“Nothing much really.” He shrugged. “More thinking about how tonight is going to go . . . I mean these could be my future in-laws.”Jaw dropping, she ran his words back over in her mind. “What?”“Oh? Is that not a proper thing to announce?” Louis smirked, thoroughly enjoying her reaction.She opened her mouth to speak, quickly closing it when her brain jumbled her thoughts. “What?”“Glad you found your voice, love.” Squeezing her hand, he gave her a funny face causing her to giggle. “I want to marry you one day, Giovanna. I want to be your husband and have children with you growing old with you.”Shaking her head, she focused on the road. “We’ve only been dating for three months . . . how are you so sure?”“The way you blew into my life and completely tipped it upside down. I told you that something told me never to let you go and I’m holding onto that promise.” He paused. “Am I going to ask you next week or in six months? Probably not, but when the time is right, for both of us, I am going to get down on one knee and ask you for your hand in marriage.”Nodding, she let herself slip into a daydream of being married to Louis Tomlinson. The more she thought about it, the more she liked what she saw. “Ok I’ll bite, Tomlinson. But how about we make it a year and then see what happens from there?”“Sure thing, Princess.” He smirked. “We’ll do it your way.”Pulling off the road into a neighborhood, Gia smirked at her boyfriend. “You have bad timing; you know that right?”“Why’s that Damsel?”Rolling her eyes at the nickname, she turned onto another road – her parents’ street. “Because I can’t exactly pull over the car and kiss you for the drawn out future plans. Besides, we’re late as is so prepare yourself for jokes.”“What kind of jokes are we talking about?”Smirking, Gia pulled into the driveway of her parents’ house. “Sex jokes, Popstar. They’re going to assume we were busy doing the nasty and will make jokes of it. Prepare yourself.” Giggling to herself, she watched Louis’ eyes go wide from her bluntness.“But uh we uh.” Stuttering, his eyes went wide.Patting his cheek, she grabbed her purse, getting out of the vehicle. “Come on Popstar; let’s not give them anything else to talk about.”Holding out his hand, she slipped her hand into his before walking in step with him. “Relax . . . you are going to charm the pants off them – you have nothing to worry about.”Tugging him up the steps, she sighed, pushing the doorbell hearing it echo throughout the house. Putting on a smile, she giggled hearing her mother’s voice nearing the door. “Gia . . . so glad you could join us. This must be Louis?”“Hi mom.” Quickly giving the older woman a hug, Gia stepped back looking at her boyfriend. “This is Louis. Pooks, this is my mother, Rose.”He stuck his hand out in greeting before Rose scoffed. “We are a hugging family Popstar. None of this handshaking business for us.”Gia laughed at her mother’s bluntness. She had grown up with this mentality and was very used to the demanding nature of the Italian in her mother.“Uh yes ma’am.” Louis stuttered causing his girlfriend to laugh.Rose raised her eyebrow at the boy before looking at her daughter. “Didn’t you prepare him?”“Uh no . . . didn’t know I was supposed to. I prepped him for the boys; not you.” Turning to Louis, she smirked. “Talk to mom about traveling . . . the woman has been to almost as many places as you Pooks.”Her mother grinned, looping her arm through Louis’ leading him towards the kitchen. Gia smirked at the grin on Louis’ face as they started talking about European countries. Walking into the kitchen was mayhem. All three boys, Ava, and her dad, Tony, were standing around. All froze when the couple made their appearance.“About time you show up Gia. We were worried something had kept you.” Leo grinned, watching his sister’s cheeks go red.Tony looked at his older son with a glare. “Leave them alone Leonardo. You as well Alexander and Ryan! There will be no teasing of Gia or her boyfriend.”“Hello Louis . . . we’ve heard a lot about you. Welcome to the family.” Tony held out his hand at Louis with a grin. “Tell me, which football team are you a fan of?”Gia’s eyes widened. She knew this could go one of two ways – Louis could quickly become a favorite or he could get on her dad’s bad side. “Manchester United but I’m a fan of all football. Love a good match.”“Ahhh not a good team in this household . . .” Alex’s eyes widened. “You’re a minority here mate.”Louis grinned. “Do I dare ask which teams you all root for?”“Well your girlfriend is a Chelsea fan along with the majority of us. We also like Manchester City and Arsenal.” Ryan smirked watching the boybander’s face fall.Louis shrugged. “May the best team win?”“That’s the spirit.” Tony’s loud personality made Louis smile. He knew he would get along great with Gia’s dad.The three boys looked at their sister’s boyfriend. Clearing his throat, Ryan smirked. “Hey Louis, can we see you in the living room for a second?”“Boys . . .” Tony looked at the three sternly. “Don’t.”Leo and Alex both shook their heads. “We just want to get to know him better. Five minutes and then you can come interrupt, Giovanna.”The four boys disappeared leaving Ava, Gia and their parents in the kitchen. Gia’s eyes went wide with frustration. “Why must they do this? Louis isn’t going to hurt me. He uh . . .”“He what Giovanna?” Oh shit the full name. Nothing every good comes from that being pulled out.Gia avoided her mother’s eyes mumbling. “He wants to marry me, eventually.”“What?” Ava squeaked out surprised by her older sister’s words.Nodding, Gia leaned against the counter. “He confessed in the car on the way over. He wants to marry me down the road. He said that he had a gut feeling from the get-go never to let me go and eventually, he wants to make me his wife. What, what if we’re moving too fast?”“You’re not.” Tony said, looking at his daughter. “I knew I wanted to marry your mother six weeks after being together. We got engaged four months into dating. If he manages to wait longer than that, then he’s a better man than I was.”Gia smiled. "Don't let him hear that. I told him he has to wait at least a year. With our careers, I have to make sure we can survive everything." They were interrupted by the boys returning to the kitchen. "He's in one piece, Giovanna. We didn't hurt him.""You all right?" Gia looked at Louis with a concerned glance. Louis chuckled. "I'm fine. I would've done the same with any of my sisters' boyfriends. Don't worry Gia.""He's a good man Gia." Alex chuckled. "He's going to fit into this family just fine!"The way her brothers laughed and Louis grinned, she felt like she was miss a huge piece of the equation. "I'll let you have your fun and won't ask anymore questions." "Atta girl that's the best thing you've said in a while." Leo said, earning a slap from his younger sister. Louis grinned at his girlfriend turning his attention to her family. "So a couple weeks ago Gia met my family and stories were exchanged. So do you have any good stories to share?""No!" Looking between her siblings and parents, she shook her head. "No stories!"Leo and Alex laughed. "Wellllll ..... Your dear girlfriend never backed down from a dare. So when she was six or seven, while our parents were hosting a party mind you, one of the older kids dared her to stick a piece of celery up her nose.""What?" The word barely escaped during his laughter. "She didn't ...."Ryan nodded, chuckling. "She did. But the best part is that it got stuck so dad had to take her to emergency to get it removed." "Sadly, that story hasn't died with time." Gia laughed. "Unfortunately that wasn't the last time I accepted a dare." Ava smirked. "Your girlfriend is also extremely clumsy. She has broken her foot while roller skating and while visiting Italy, managed to fall up stairs.""She has managed to be graceful while we've been together." Loius looked in Gia's direction. "How come you never told me your scar stories?"Gia blushed. "Didn't want to scare you away.""She also has busted open her chin open twice." Alex laughed. "She even has a scar on her arm from a homemade slip and slide." Louis' eyes went wide. "Now there's a story I have to hear.""Mom and dad shipped us off to our aunt's for the summer. We were bored and wanted to build a slip and slide." Ryan chuckled. "We got the tarps and the hose before creating this thing. The one thing we didn't anticipate was the tarp being too close to the sandbox."At that point Alex and Leo lost their composure. "Gia insisted on being the first to go down and she managed to get too close to the homemade sandbox and scraped her arm on a stake that wasn't pounded into the ground far enough.""You really should have gotten stitches, Gia." Rose frowned in her daughter's direction. "At least you have a great story to tell." Gia shook her head. "I can't help that I'm clumsy. The only time I wasn't was when I was dancing.""I never understood that." Tony shook his head. "You were the most graceful dancer yet you couldn't walk without tripping over air."Rolling her eyes, she couldn't help but laugh along with her family. "Laugh it up.""Awww babe we still love you." Louis smirked. Narrowing her eyes in her boyfriend's direction. "Watch it bubs. You're walking on thin ice.""Here's a little tip for you Lou." Ava knew this would send her sister into a tizzy. "She doesn't really follow through with her threats. She tries to act all tough but she doesn't have the heart to go through with them."Gia glared at her family. "Do you really need to divulge all of my secrets to the first guy I bring home? Yes we've been together for three months but are there things you want to keep in the vault for a later date?""I'm the first guy you've brought home?" Louis' voice had a tone of shock to it. She nodded. "Yea. Good thing I didn't bring home jerk 1 or douche 2 - this lot would have eaten them alive.""Plus those idiots wouldn't have lasted during that little pow wow we just had." Leo nodded. "They would have laughed their way through that intervention." Ava grinned. "You've got a leg up in this family Tomlinson. Don't ruin it.""I won't. I kinda told your sister that she was it for me and I fully intend on fulfilling that promise." Louis grinned watching her parents reactions carefully. They simply smiled at him and in return he found himself finally relaxing and enjoying himself getting to know Gia's family. There would come a time for serious talks and proposals but for now he lived in the moment and got to know the family that would become his own with time. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- May 27, 2018 12:00pmTwo days. That was all he had to wait until she returned back to base. She was in Iraq checking on the bombers and she had kept Louis in the loop by texts and mini phone calls. Their conversations had lasted 5 minutes or less but it was enough for him to hear her voice and exchange ‘I Love Yous’ with her.Gia had been in Iraq for the past seven days. He had worried the entire time but the first time he heard her voice after she landed had done very little to ease his worries.Through talks with her parents, Louis had tried to stay positive but his mind kept escaping to the last time she was in Afghanistan. He knew the chances were low but he knew it could happen again.His phone knocked him out of his thoughts. “Hello?”“Hi love. What are you doing?” Gia’s sweet voice connected over the line.He grinned. “Thinking about you. What are you doing?”“Getting ready for the big football game. It’s our army versus the United States crew. We’ve been trash talking all week.” She laughed. “There are some big bets going on.”He wished he could be by her side watching her play the sport they both loved. “What’s your piece of the pie? Which position are you playing? We’ll be rooting on your team from here.”“Right forward. I’ve got some money riding on this but it’s mostly bragging rights.” She said distracted by something. “Hey I have to go but I love you. Go do something fun with the boys. I’ll be home in two days.”He nodded knowing she couldn’t see him. “I love you too and I’ll see you soon.”Hanging up, he pocketed his phone turning to the boys. “Gia all right?”“Yeah; she’s getting ready for their football match. It’s the British Army versus the United States. She’s playing forward.” He laughed. “She seems really excited for it.”Liam nudged his arm with a smile. “She’ll be home in two days. She’s spending her last few hours there unwinding and having a great time.”“I know but my mind can’t help but worry for her safety.”Harry grinned at his best friend. “Man she’d kiss your sorry arse for worrying about her. This is Gia; the one who kicked your arse in football and gives you shit. She will be back in Britain before you know it.”“Yeah I know.” Thank goodness he had his friends around. “What’s next on the schedule?”And so they continued on with their scheduled interviews announcing the new CD and the tour to support it.6:00pmThe last interview had just finished and the boys couldn’t be happier. They had agreed to dinner and a drink before retiring to their individual houses for the night.That all changed when they came off the stage and face to face with Paul holding Louis’ mobile with a concern look on his face.“What’s wrong Paul?” Zayn asked as the five crowded around the bodyguard.“They called your mobile, Louis. They want you to call them as soon as possible.” Paul held the device out for the young man to grab.Louis looked at his longtime protector and friend. “Who wants me to call them?”“Gia’s parents, more specifically her mum; she said it was urgent.” Paul tried moving the boys towards the dressing room. “Come on boys; you’re not going to want to be in the middle of everything when he makes this phone call.”The boys followed Paul without hesitation. They were worried about the tone in Paul’s voice. “What’s wrong?”“I think Lou needs to make this call in a quiet place.” Paul opened the dressing room door allowing the boys to pass through.Once the door was shut, Louis immediately dialed Gia’s parents’ number. One ring then two before the line connected. “Hello?”“Can I speak to Rose, please?” Louis spoke listening to the phone being passed.He heard the sob before she spoke. “Louis?”“Hi Rose. Paul said you called and it was urgent that I call you back. What’s wrong?” There was a pit in his stomach as his girlfriend’s mum tried to calm herself down.Rose took a deep breath. “We got a call about an hour ago.”“What type of call, Rose?” He begun to panic, fearing the worse. His feet shuffled over to the couch, the other boys trading glances with one another.He heard voices on the other end before Rose spoke again. “Gia’s missing Louis. From what we gather, everyone went out to the bar after they won the football game. Her and Drew were walking back to base when they were taken. We were notified about an hour after it happened.”He sunk further into the couch as her words hit him. “What? How did this happen? What’s going to happen now?”“It’s always a worry when she travels abroad.” She sighed. “Never did I think this would happen again. I just want my daughter back, Louis. We just have to wait until we hear something.” Tears clouded his eyes hearing Gia’s mum’s pleading.Louis ran a hand through his hair. “Let me know if anything changes, please.”“We are all gathering at the house if you want to join us. No use being by yourself during this time.” Rose sighed.“We’re done for the week. I’ll be up tomorrow morning. Thank you for calling Rose and let me know if anything changes.” Hanging up the phone, Louis let the tears finally fall.The boys crowded around the couch watching the oldest of the group break down. Harry sat down and hugged his best friend tightly. For twenty minutes, Louis openly sobbed not caring who heard his heart break. Slowly, the sobs turned to snubs before the tears stopped and the red eyed man looked at his friends.“Want to talk about it?” Zayn asked.Wiping his tears away, Louis looked at his best friends clearing his throat. “That was Rose. They got a call saying that Gia is missing. Her and Drew were walking back from the bar celebrating the football match when they were taken.” Taking a breath, he willed the sob in his throat from escaping. “She said it’s a big waiting game.”“What are they waiting for?” Niall asked Louis with a hitch in his voice.Louis shrugged. “Rose didn’t elaborate. I’m heading up to Gia’s parents’ house tomorrow morning. All she said is that it’s a waiting game.”“What do you need us to do?” Liam asked, placing a hand on Louis’s shoulder.Tears clouded his eyes at the questions, shaking his head; Louis looked at the four other guys. “I-I’m not sure. What if-”“No! You’re not going to sit here and start this game, Louis William. You have to stay positive and believe that everything will be all right. Giovanna will be coming home and back in your arms soon. This is just a hiccup in the road.” Harry looked at his friend. “DO NOT give up on your girl, Louis. Believe she will be home soon.”All he could do was nod and lean into Harry’s arms for support. “Do you want us to come up to Gia’s parents’ place with you tomorrow?”“No you guys have plans with the girls tomorrow. I’m going to go home, get some sleep then head up tomorrow.” Louis said, the boys trading glances with one another.“You sure? The girls would understand.”Shaking his head, Louis smiled sadly. “Go be with your girls; I’ll be fine.”The five picked up their stuff before shuffling to the car. One by one the car dropped each man off at their residences, each telling Louis to call if there were any changes or if he needed anything. Finally, Louis was the only one in the car with Paul. He welcomed the silence though it didn’t last very long. “You want to talk about anything?”“Can you bring her back? Make sure she is safe and sound?” His voice was hoarse from crying.Paul glanced in the rearview mirror. “She’s tough and knows how to take care of herself. She will be all right; you might have to spend a few days of spoiling her but something tells me you won’t mind doing that.”“How long will I have to wait for that? How long do we have to wait for these sick bastards to give her back to us?” Louis’ voice rose. “Why does she have to have a job she’s absolutely passionate about yet takes her to the most dangerous places in the world?”Paul pulled off the street across from Louis’ place. “What do you need to hear from me? What do you need us to tell you so that you will believe Giovanna will be home soon? She’s only delayed a couple of days.”“I don’t know. It feels like I’m in this dream and I cannot wake up from it. Rose’s phone call keeps replaying over in my mind on auto-play.” He sighed. “I appreciate the talk but I don’t know what I need. I think I’m going to eat, take a shower, pack and get some sleep.”Paul nodded. “Will you text me if you want to talk? And let me know when you’re heading up north tomorrow.”“I will. Like I said, I’m going to eat, take a shower, pack, and get some sleep.” Louis shook Paul’s hand, hoping out of the car and crossing the street.Unlocking the door to his flat, Louis dropped his bag by the front door and toeing off his shoes. His soft footsteps padded through the hallway, letting the memories of her last visit cloud his thoughts.The tickle fights on the couch; the make-out sessions in the kitchen, resulting in burnt grilled cheese sandwiches; the two of them officially exchanging “I Love Yous” for the first time in the garden. He shook his head willing those memories away yet they only grew stronger.Letting his back hit the wall, Louis let himself slide down, feeling his bum hit the floor. Burying his face in his arms, his sobs echoed in the quiet house. He prayed to whoever, asking that Gia returned to his arms safe and sound quickly.Feeling a wet nose on his arm, he sadly smiled at Socks, the six month old Blue Russian cat Gia insisted they needed to adopt. Louis was against Socks from the get-go but between Gia’s adorable pout and the cat’s immediate affection towards him, he was powerless. Socks was adopted and spoiled rotten by the couple. A plaid green and blue collar was fitted around his neck. A bed was placed in the corner of the kitchen yet the cat never slept there, opting to curl up next to or on Louis’ chest every night.Petting the cat, Louis sighed deeply. “She’ll be home soon. Mumma’s just delayed buddy but she promised us she’ll be back and she never breaks a promise.”Pushing himself off the floor, Louis picked up Socks walking into the kitchen. Pouring him a bowl of cereal and filling Socks’ bowl, the two ate in silence. The silence was usually welcoming but tonight it was anything but.Shaking his head, he grabbed his keys, heading back out the door. Walking down the steps, he let his feet decide the destination. He didn’t pay attention to his surroundings, as thoughts of Gia invaded his mind.He thought of their hangout times, back when either of them was too scared to make a move. Remembering how badly he wanted to make Gia his girl but how scared he was to mess up their brilliant friendship. He was worried about his career getting in the way of things; only to be pleasantly surprised to find out her career was just as complicated as his. Shifting his thoughts, his mind went to when she told him about her job and how fascinated he was. He wanted to ask her a million questions, but feeling like he didn’t want to overwhelm her. Then after he went to surprise her at the train station, he knew he had to make Gia his. That was when the big plan was put into place.Eventually his feet led him to a bench in the park they had spent her last day in London at before heading back to base for this trip to Iraq.Where was he? Ahhh the plan. He chuckled; he was so nervous on that trip up to the base. He didn’t know how Gia would react to seeing him standing there. But after his speech and her saying yes, the nerves vanished and he was the happiest he’d been in a while. The boys could immediately see a change in their friend and couldn’t wait to meet the girl responsible for that.The concert after she returned back to London. Gia could’ve killed him for not telling her the boys’ families would be present for that concert. But she handled everything with poise and grace and that bright contagious smile of hers. Little did she know, his mum gave Louis the seal of approval before the concert. His mum had fallen in love with Gia from the second the two had met. His sisters were happy to have another girl around for advice. Lottie was especially excited to have an adopted older sister to turn to for advice.Pulling his mobile from his pocket, he dialed his mum’s number. He listened to the ringing before the voice that could brighten his day no matter what his mood answered.“Hey mum. How’s it going?” He leaned back into the bench.He listened to her chat about his sisters and what they were up to. He laughed at the mischief his twin sisters were getting into and how many grey hairs they were given their mother. She chatted about the general things of her day including the joys and stresses of her job.“What about you boo? How’s it going? I’m guessing this isn’t a casual chat to catch up.” She asked turning the tables on him. How she was able to guess that, he would never know.He sighed. That was a loaded question. “Are you sitting down?”“Uh oh that doesn’t sound like a good thing.” She said but acknowledged she was sitting down.The tears were there but at bay as he prepared to tell his mother. “I got a call from Gia’s parents. They said that she's missing. She was walking back to base from the bar after their football game and was taken along with one of her coworkers.”“Louis . . .” Her voice trailed off, a tell-tale sign she was crying. “Oh baby . . . how are you holding up?”He sighed, hearing his mother cry was one of the hardest things to bear. “I’m all right; more worried about Gia at the current moment. Praying she comes home soon, safe and sound.” He paused. “I just want her home mum.”“I know baby. We’ll add her to our prayer list.” She cooed wishing she could hold her son in her arms, giving him comfort only a mother could.He cleared his throat, pushing tears away from his eyes. “I’m heading up to her parents’ place tomorrow morning. Her mum suggested I come up so we’re all together.”“Ok. Will you keep me updated on any changes?” Her concerned mum’s voice was pushing through.He sighed. “I will mum. I love you.”“Love you too baby. She is strong and tough and will be home shortly. This is just a hiccup in her travels.” She paused. “She loves you Louis and she will come back just to make sure you know that. Stay strong baby. If you need to vent, don’t hesitate to call, all right?”They said their final goodbyes before hanging up from one another.His thoughts drifted back to their memories together. The first time he met her parents; he wanted to make sure they knew he was someone other than a member in some random boyband. Like Gia had told him, he had absolutely nothing to worry about. Her mom loved him and was fascinated with his travels around the world; they had exchanged notes about their favorite countries. Her dad and he had bonded over football; his team being Manchester United, her dad’s Arsenal. They had gotten over their mutual hate for the other’s team pretty quickly. Her three brothers had warned him about breaking Gia’s heart while Ava gushed over all the sweet things he had wooed Gia with. All in the entire visit was a success.His mobile rung bringing him out of his thoughts; Harry was calling. Louis ignored the call prompting his friend to call again. He put the mobile on vibrate before pocketing it.The thoughts then went to the last time he saw her; nine days ago, he put her on the train back to Hampshire. They had spent the morning together; breakfast at their favorite café followed by a walk through the park. She had bumped his hip as they walked side by side holding hands. He had whispered bad jokes and secrets in her ear prompting her to laugh loudly. They had talked about his upcoming tour and her flying out to see him. Gia had expressed interest in taking a trip just the two of them – he had thrown out places of interest but she had her heart set on visiting Spain, more specifically Sevilla, a place she had heard so much about but never been able to visit.Now, all the plans they had made, may not be executed. Gia had only been in his life for seven months. If he had her only for seven months, then someone was playing a very cruel joke on him. He had to admit those past few months were some of the best he had ever had but he questioned if that’s all he would have.“How did I know I’d find you here?” Louis heard a voice, the bench creaking with the added weight.Louis rolled his eyes. “How did I know you wouldn’t take too kindly to the ignored call?”“I’m worried about you. You don’t take too kindly to anyone hurting your friends and family, not to mention the helplessness you’re feeling because you can’t protect Gia.” Harry had nailed everything he was feeling on the head. “I’m not even going to start to understand what you’re going through but you need to let us in. You don’t have to go through this alone. You have four best friends who are willing to drop everything to go with you tomorrow. You also have any one of us to call and vent.”Louis nodded hearing his best friend’s words. “Everywhere I go, there’s a memory of us. I can’t go a single place without something from our past being thrown in my face. Can’t go home without being faced with make-out sessions or tickle fights; can’t go downtown without the memories of our first meeting; and here is where we usually ended up after eating or hanging out. There are memories of her and me and right now I want nothing more than to have her here in my arms, safe and sound.”“Unfortunately, at this moment, that’s not feasible but she will be home.” Looking at his friend, Harry frowned. He hated seeing Louis, the happy-go-lucky one of the group, so down in the dumps. “Have you heard any changes or news?”Louis shook his head. “See no news is good news. Now let’s get you home and packed then you and I will drive up to the family home tomorrow morning.”“But you and Scar-” Louis was cut off with a shake of Harry’s head.“Scarlett understands and we have postponed our plans for the zoo until a later date.” Harry smiled. “She insisted I come with for nothing more than support.”May 28, 2018 3:00pm – 24 hours after the call to Gia’s ParentsThey had arrived just after 9 in the morning to a table full of various breakfast food, none of it touched; the family sat on pins and needles waiting for any piece of news that would ease any worries of their daughter and sister. Harry and Louis had joined in the worrying with the rest of the family.Every time the phone rang, they would all pray for good news – only to be disappointed when it was a friend or family member sending their thoughts and prayers for Gia’s safe return.“This sucks.” Leo grumbled, flopping onto the couch across from Louis and Harry. The doorbell had rung, signaling the arrival of more support from friends and family.“Louis? Harry? There are some guests in the foyer for you.” Rose spoke, standing in the doorway of the adjacent office.The two exchanged glances with Alex, Ryan, and Leo before excusing themselves. Louis gave Rose a hug in thanks following Harry to the foyer.He shouldn’t have been surprised to see who was standing there but for some reason he was. Liam, Niall, and Zayn were looking at the ground sadly as they were joined by the last two members.“Any news?” Liam asked hopeful, hugging Louis tightly. He moved to the side allowing the other guys to greet Louis.Louis shook his head. “None yet. Every time the phone rings we all hold our breaths. The Army has been in contact and they’re confident they know where Gia and Drew are being held but they don’t want to make any rash decisions.”“So what does that mean?” Zayn asked worried about his friends.Harry glanced at his friend. “It’s still waiting and hoping. Things have been pretty tense around here.”“No, Gia and Drew are waiting ducks in the worse part of Iraq. The British fucking Army won’t do a damn thing in fears of being rash.” Louis’ anger got the best of him, causing his friends to tense up at his anger. “My girlfriend is a waiting duck while those bastards are messing with her. Our Army can go in and rescue her but chose to wait and do nothing.”“Louis . . .” A voice on the stairs caught his attention.Motioning the girl forward, Louis frowned at his behavior. “Ava I’m sorry.”“Don’t be. You’re the only one venting their anger around here. The men in my family don’t do well with tense situations when my sister is involved.” She smiled at the new individuals in the foyer. “I’m sorry for my lack of manners. I’m Ava, Gia’s younger sister. You must be the rest of Louis’ bandmates. Thank you for coming.”Introductions were made before Ava gave Louis a hug. She smiled at the guys. “There are snacks in the kitchen; make yourselves at home. If you need anything, let me know.”They watched her leave before looking at Louis. “Come on.” The five grabbed snacks before heading out to the deck. The Canalanotte’s house sat on ten acres. The deck faced a pond with a fountain and a colorful flower garden. Motioning the boys to take a seat, Louis opted to lean against the decking with a sigh.“How are you doing?” Niall asked munching on some crisps, a serious tone in his voice.He hated that everyone kept asking him that question but he knew they were concerned with him coping with the news. “Hanging in there. Angry as hell but worried about her at the same time. Praying that she comes home safe and sound. Thinking about all the conversations we are going to have when she’s able to have them and worried about the possibility of never having those conversations. My mind is going in 90 different directions and just trying to hold onto the little bit of hope that flickers as the hours pass.”“Can we do anything?” Zayn asked watching the subtle glances between Harry and Louis.Shaking his head, Louis played with a piece of loose wood. “Just be here in case the worse happens. I’m going to need you four more if we don’t get the news we’re hoping for.”The five grew silent at Louis’ words, each lost in their own thoughts. The opening of the back door caught their attention. “Louis.” Ryan shouted causing the five to jump in surprise. “We just got the call. They have a team going in to rescue Gia and Drew.”“Now?”Ryan grinned. “They’re going to go in and rescue her and Drew. Take them back to base, check them over, and then get them on the first flight out of Iraq back to London. Come on, dad is popping champagne.”The five followed Ryan inside where there was a renewed energy. The TV was set to CNN International who was following the rescue mission with rapt attention. Louis’ eyes never left the screen as he watched the men and women storm the dingy old warehouse. The distinct pop pop sounded through the screen, making Louis cringe with worry. Hands were placed on his back and shoulders in support. He prayed harder than he had ever prayed before. The announcer’s words were slowly reaching his ears until the ones he longed to hear were said. “And we just got word that the two British hostages are alive and safe.”He released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding while Harry pulled him into a hug with the other guys surrounding them. Tears streamed down his face while Harry kept whispering that his girl was safe.Pulling away from the hug, he turned back to the television. He caught glimpses of Gia as she was moved to a gurney and pushed into a makeshift ambulance. The phone rang as the ambulance took off. Taking his eyes off the television, he reached for his phone and shot off two texts – one to his mum alerting her of the good news and the other to the girl that captured his heart. He knew she wouldn’t see the text for a while but he wanted to let her know he loved her and was hoping to see her soon.8:00pmHe was exhausted. He had only slept two hours the past 29 hours since he found out about Gia. Now he let his body relax as he lay out on her parents’ couch. Everyone was in the kitchen celebrating the joyous news. He, however, wanted to take a few minutes to himself, realizing he got his wish. Gia was safe and sound and was coming home safely. The Army wanted to keep Gia and Drew there for two days just for observations, leaving the family anxious to see her.“Louis?”Looking over the back of the couch, he smiled seeing Ava there. “Hey.”“There’s someone that wants to talk to you.” Holding out her cell phone, he hesitantly grabbed it putting it to his ear.“Hi handsome.”Tears immediately rushed to his eyes hearing her voice. He roughly pushed them away, his heart jumped to his throat at the sudden rush of emotions. “Oh Damsel it’s lovely to hear your voice. How are you?”“Safe, sound and alive.” She laughed her sweet laugh. “Physically, I’m exhausted and I’ve got a broken arm, broken ribs, and other stuff going on. Emotionally, I’m crying at the drop of a hat. And I just wanted to hear your voice. How are you?”He sniffled trying to keep the tears at bay. “Emotional; I’ve been through a rollercoaster the past day or so. I’m so happy you’re all right. When are you coming home?”“Two days; Army’s making us stay here. I’m getting my arm set tomorrow. I’ve got some paperwork I have to fill out then I get into London at 12 pm on Tuesday.” She sighed. “I can’t wait to see you, Popstar.”He laughed, knowing she was as eager as he was. “Me as well sweetie, me as well.”“Hold on Louis . . .” She said as a ringing sounded in his ear. Pulling the phone away, he smiled seeing a FaceTime invitation on the screen. Accepting the call, he prepared himself for seeing her for the first time.Her face popped up at the screen. Her dark hair pulled back into a pony tail with a cut on her right cheek. Her contagious smile lit up her face brightly. Her eyes danced with excitement. “Well I was right about the handsome part.”“Soldier you are a sight for sore eyes. What hurts?”She moaned holding her ribs. “Don’t make me laugh, Louis. I’ve got two broken ribs, which hurt like a bitch. It feels like I have an elephant on my chest. My arm is broken – what color cast should I get tomorrow? And I’ve got a lovely reminder from talking back to my captures.”“When you get home, you are bedridden with me as your house servant. You are not going to lift a finger for the next few weeks, yeah?” He chided, as she saluted him. “As for a cast color, I’m thinking green or blue.”She nodded thinking of his color choices. “Sounds good to me. Louis?”“Yes?” Looking at her on the screen, a smile played at his lips.“Get some sleep, babe. Don’t worry about me. I’m safe and sound and I will see you on Tuesday – two days from now.” Holding up two fingers, she laughed. “If you don’t get any sleep, I’ll ban you from the flat.”Gasping, he held a hand to his wounded heart. “Awe babes don’t do that.”“Sleep Tomlinson or you won’t see me.” She saw movement behind him and smiled brightly. “Well hello boys. How are you doing?”They crowded behind Louis smiling at the girl. “Hi yourself. Are you taking it easy?”“They won’t let me do a damn thing here.” She pouted. “Are you taking care of my man? He’s looking a little tired.”The four laughed shaking their heads. “We couldn’t do anything but we’re going to make sure he sleeps properly tonight. Gotta keep his energy up for when you come home, babe.”Louis could’ve hit Harry for his comment but Gia brushed it off with a laugh before paying the consequences when she clutched her side. “Ow don’t make me laugh. Damn broken ribs.”The four boys chatted with the girl, not realizing their fifth member was slowly falling asleep to the sounds of Gia’s voice. Harry turned the FaceTime to his best friend. Gia grinned. “Tell him I say I love you and I’ll talk to you guys later. Thank you for everything.”The boys quietly moved Louis to the car before driving back to London for the night. They tucked him into bed leaving him alone for the night.May 30, 2018 11:30amTo say he was excited was an understatement. The past two days, he had been a big ball of energy counting down the hours until he got to see her again. He was pretty sure his bandmates were about to tie him down due to the constant countdown.And now he was walking into King's Crossing going to meet his girl. Her parents had all ready claimed a table near the exit from the platform. He grinned at them taking a seat. "The boys ready to kill you?" Ava asked grinning. He chuckled nodding. "Yeah I got on their last nerve with my countdown. I couldn't help it though. You excited?""Of course. There will be tears and we'll have to pinch ourselves to realize she's really here. But it'll be good just to see her in person." Ava swiped away tears that had managed to escape.Louis gave her a quick hug, pulling back after hearing the announcement for her train. He stood back, letting her family greet her first - he knew he wouldn't let her go once she was in his arms. He grinned watching her step off the train with a suitcase and her bright smile sitting on her face. She immediately found her welcoming committee. Walking quickly, careful not to knock into anyone, she closed the distance between herself and the family in three quick strides. He watched her throw herself into her father's arms before her mother wrapped her arms around the two. Louis shifted, a little uncomfortable at the family's reunion. Her parents released her before Leo and Alex scooped her up causing her familiar laugh to escape. A smirk crossed his face at how happy and alive she was. Ryan was next. Gia laughed and nodded, agreeing with whatever he said. She gave him another hug before launching herself at Ava. That's when the tears glistened in his eyes. He had gotten so close with Ava over the past few days that they were almost best friends as him and Gia were. Finally, it was his time. A whisper session ended between Ava and Gia before his lovely brunette turned towards him. His breath hitched locking eyes with her. Over the past few days, he felt as if he was walking through a fog, not really knowing how to carry on. It wasn't until the news came in that he felt like he could breath normally again. It wasn't until he heard her voice that his heart felt full once more. And now her standing in front of her, he lost his breath. Despite the bright green cast on her left arm, he couldn't see much difference. "Popstar." He gathered her into his arms being careful of her injured body. He didn't hide the tears, letting them fall down his cheeks. He heard her breath hitch feeling the tears on his shirt. "I kept telling myself I had to make it back to you. I had to see you. You kept me sane.""I love you Giovanna."She smiled. "Love you too Popstar."And in her boyfriend's arms, she was at home, away for the fears and dangers that had captured her. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- June 8, 2018She loved when Louis left her notes. Sometimes it was a hurried "I Love You" scribbled on the back of a grocery list. Other times it was a detailed note of what he loved about her. All the notes he had written since they started dating, all 47 of them, were in a box under her bed. But today's note was different than all of the previous notes. This note cause her smirk to widen allowing an excited squeal to escape her mouth. Hi Damsel,So this note-giving thing has become a thing in our relationship. But of all the notes I've given you over the past 6 months, this one might be my favorite. Back when we were hanging out and during one of our many games of questions, you motioned that you want to travel the world. You wanted to be whisked away to somewhere you've never been. Well, baby girl today is your lucky day. I'm whisking you out of London for a couple of days. Pack enough clothes for five days (it's going to be warm where we are going). Be ready tomorrow morning at 9:00 when I will pick you up for the start of our adventure. Love you!LouisOf course he had something up his sleeve. Ever since she returned from Iraq, it killed him to say goodbye to her every night. Louis never wanted her out of his sight, too worried something would happen in his absence. They had had many conversations about it but his mind would constantly worry if he was away from her for too long. Picking up the phone, she grinned dialing his number. "How can I help you today, Soldier?""What do you have planned?"He chuckled. "I take it you got my note?""I did indeed. Now where are we going?" Leaning against the kitchen counter, Gia listened to him chuckle on the other end. "It's a surprise. One that you won't know about until tomorrow when we land."Gia sighed dramatically. "That's not fair. How do you know that I won't like the place?""Oh you couldn't shut up about this place back in October." He paused. "Your eyes lit up when you spoke about it. This has been in the works for a while now."Gia was quiet for a minute. "You didn't have to do this but thank you! I'm excited to see where you're taking me. I love you for surprising me.""You're welcome Gia." He sighed. "Though you may kill me tomorrow with your excessive questions. But I have to go; the boys aren't liking the interruption. I'll see you tonight. Love you turkey!"Reciprocating the sentiment back, Gia shook her head at her boyfriend. Him and his never-ending nicknames for her. Damsel, Soldier, Italia and the newest one, turkey. Grabbing the suitcase from her closet, Gia threw it on the bed, grabbing clothes to throw inside. Taking a deep breath, she calmly folded all of the clothes thinking of the wonderful man in her life. Twenty minutes after she started, Gia zipped the suitcase shut placing it by the door. Heading to the kitchen, she started cooking dinner, knowing Louis would be hungry as soon as he walked in the door. Humming to herself she mixed the ingredients for homemade enchiladas. Now that she was off work for the next twelve weeks, her and Louis had taken turns making dinner each night. Sometimes Louis would take the easy route ordering take out but more often than not Gia would pull Louis into the kitchen to teach him a thing or two. More often than not, Louis would just watch her move around the kitchen and not listen to a thing she would say - mostly falling more in love with her. She was so wrapped in her thoughts, she failed to see the man leaning in the doorway of the kitchen. He smiled watching her hum before crossing the room and wrapping his arms around her waist. "Crap Louis!" She jumped looking over her shoulder at the man who failed to keep his composure. Leaning over, he kissed her cheek. "Honey I'm home.""A little heads up would have been nice. There are knives around that could have caused massive damages." Gia took a breath trying to calm her racing heart rate. "Hi!"Pulling himself up on the counter, he smiled. "Hi. How was your day?""Bored out of my mind. Tricia and Mollie came over before we went to lunch. It was good to see them." She sighed. "I miss work."Louis sighed knowing this would be an ongoing battle with his girlfriend. "I know babe. I'm sorry but you need this time away from the Army. Besides I have something I need to ask you."Placing the cooking dish in the oven, setting the timer, Gia turned her attention to Louis. "What's up?""I've been thinking about something. I know we've only been dating for six months." He took a deep breath letting it out slowly. "Will you move in with me?"Gia knew this was coming just by the conversations they had had in the previous week. "Can I ask you something first?""What's up buttercup?"She shook her head. "I'm serious Tomlinson.""Babe you can ask me anything, you know this." He pulled her up on the counter to sit next to him. "What's your question."Gia took his hand in hers squeezing it. "Is this whole me moving in with you because of what happened in Iraq?"Louis chuckled. "How did I know this would be your question?""It's a legit question!" Gia defended a bright smile on her face. He nodded. "I'm not saying it wasn't. To answer it, no me asking you isn't because of Iraq, though it did speed it up. I've wanted you, me, and Socks to live under one roof. I wanted it after I met your parents back in March.""So why did you wait to ask?"Louis took a breath. "Besides the obvious fact that I didn't want to freak you out or feel like I was rushing things? I wanted to wait until you were back in London again.""So you're not doing this because of Iraq? How do you know that you're not going to get tired of me?" She rambled. "This is pure insanity ... I mean who moves into someone -"Louis cut her off with a rather steamy kiss. She groaned as he pulled back. "You and your ability to word vomit. I'm not going to get tired of you. I hate kissing you goodbye every night as I head back to my place. Besides think how fun it'll be when we share a house and I get to see you everyday.""And when I return to base? What then?" Louis kissed her for been considering his question. "Then I keep your side of the bed warm for when you come home. Or Socks will in any case." He paused. "Nothing is going to change. You will come here when you're on leave instead of heading to your place. That's the only thing that will change, I promise."Weighing the pros and cons in her head, only to come up empty, Gia smiled. "Ask me again.""Giovanna Maria will you move in with me?"Nodding, she threw her arms around his neck. "Yes I would love to." They made out on the countertop until the loud beeping of the timer pulled them apart. "Oops!!" "You loved every second of it!" Next Morning 8:00am"Giovanna move that cute butt of yours and let's go or we are going to miss our plane!" Louis sighed from the kitchen as Gia ran around gathering last minute items. "Besides anything you forget we can buy."Hearing a clunk by the front door, he smirked. "All right Pooks I think I have everything. You ready?""Woman I've been ready for the last 20 minutes." He walked over to her. "Just waiting on you."Picking up their suitcases, he carried them out to the waiting car. She double checked everything, walking outside locking the door behind her. Hitching her purse higher, Gia took a moment to relax and get excited for the surprises ahead. Sliding into the waiting car, she sighed letting her head hit the head rest. Lacing her fingers with Louis', she glaced at him. "So where are we going?""I was wondering how long it would take you to start asking questions." He laughed shaking his head. She grinned. "I wouldn't be asking if you told me where we were heading!""It's called the element of surprise for a reason." He laughed. "And trust me you'll be surprised."His phone rang interrupting them. "Hello?"Gia didn't pay attention to the conversation; instead she watched the screnary pass by them as they made their way to the airport. "She's sitting beside me. We are on our way to the airport now!" She thought back on their relationship for the past 6 months. She hadn't been happier than in her relationship with the man beside her. Her time in Iraq was the most scared she had ever been and all she wanted was to be back in Louis' protective embrace. The past week her mind had been debating if staying in the army and putting herself in harms way was really worth it. Louis had taken his protective detail up a notch since they hugged in the train station. She knew he was protective of her, especially when the two were out and about with fans near by; she never expected him to be more protective after her return. The way Louis wouldn't let her out of his sight for the first three days she was home freaked her out a bit. "You ok?"His words knocked her out of her thoughts. "Yea just thinking about something.""Anything you want to share?"Gia knew she would have to clue him in eventually but didn't want to weigh down their vacation with the heaviness of the issue. "Not at the moment but I will need to talk to you at some point.""Anything bad?" The tone of her voice caused Louis to pause. She was almost scared of something. Gia smiled putting forth a front. "Nope. Just thinking of something but I need to pull everything together and weigh the pros/cons before we talk.""You know you can talk to me about anything right?""Of course Pooks." Gia grinned. "Now to more important matters, where are we going?"Louis threw his back laughing loudly. "Somewhere warm.""You've all ready mentioned that. Now where are we going Tomlinson?" He smiled watching the car pull into the private jet lot. Grasping Gia's hand, he smirked watching her eyes widened. "Didn't feel like the hassle of normal flights today Pooks?""No just wanted to fly in style." Helping her exit the car, he squeezed her hand. "Actually wanted to keep this destination a secret for as long as possible."Tugging on her hand, he led her up the stairs of the jet before collapsing into a seat. Gia fell into one beside him with a giant smile on her face. "Have I mentioned how much I love you and that you're the greatest boyfriend ever?" "Not in the past 18 hours or so." He teased. Leaning over the seat, she kissed him, softly at first before he deepened it. A cough pulled the two apart while a blush covered her cheeks. "Sorry to interrupt Mr. Tomlinson, but the captain said we'll be taking off shortly.""That's all right Sophia. Thank you for letting us know." He paused. "This is my girlfriend, Gia. Gia this is Sophia."Gia smiled brightly. "It's nice to meet you."Sophia soon left leaving the couple alone. Gia groaned burying her head in Louis' shoulder causing him to chuckle. "You ass.""What? I didn't know she was standing behind us." Louis defended. "If I had, I wouldn't have deepened that kiss." The two settled into the cabin and made small talk. Gia excited to find out where Louis was whisking her off to and Louis excited to see her smile. Hours laterHer eyes were wide taking in the sights of downtown Sevilla, Spain. She had off handedly mentioned that she always wanted to visit the Andalusia city. The Cathedral stood to her left while the Alcazar stood to her right. The street was packed with people hurrying to get where they needed to go. All ready they had passed two Starbucks and a host of other attractions. "Happy now?" Louis was tired. From the moment they dropped their suitcases off at the hotel, Gia dragged him around the city pointing out attractions she had only heard or read about. He watched in amusement at her excitement while standing in front of famous buildings. Plaza de España, Guadalquivir River, Triana Bridge, Toro de Oro, Plaza de Toros, gorgeous buildings that Gia pronounced with such grace and an accent that put Niall's to shame. He could listen to her talk for ages about a subject he could care less about; if it made her smile and happy, he would at least act like he was paying attention. Turning towards Louis, she nodded. "Extremely. Thank you for bringing me here.""You're welcome. You wouldn't stop talking about this place so I had to see what the hype was about. Besides I wanted to see you happy. You've been having a rough time since returning so I wanted to do something for you to relax and be happy for a bit." He squeezed her hand. Throwing her arms around his neck, she stood on her tip toes placing a kiss on his lips. "I absolutely love you for it. Thank you.""You're welcome Damsel." Returning the kiss, he smiled. "Now where are we going?"Looking at the two buildings they stood between, she shrugged. "Castle or Cathedral?""Castle - oh do you think we'll be able to play king and queen and behead people like they used to?" Louis' eyes lot up at the thought. Gia laughed. "It's a good thing you're handsome babe!""Come be my queen, Giovanna!" He exclaimed holding his hand out for her to take. "Live a little babe."Squeezing his hand, Gia laughed. "Never a dull moment with you, huh Tomlinson?""I believed I promised that when we first got together."So the two made their way through the castle, Gia commented quietly for only him to hear. When they got to the Patio de las Doncellas (The Courtyard of the Maidens) Louis' jaw dropped at the sheer beauty of the courtyard. There was a reflection pool in the middle surrounded by gorgeous tiles around the outside. Louis took that moment to really look at Gia. The sunshine hit her hair just right causing it to look light brown. Her eyes lit up at the sight that surrounded her. Her fingers traced the walls as she seemed to be in a land far, far away form where they currently were. Sliding up behind her, Louis smirked. "You all right?""Yea. Just thinking about all the dignitaries and famous people who have walked these halls and stood where we are currently." She paused. "I love history and being able to come visit a building that's 600 hundred years. I mean that's pretty amazing." Louis grinned brightly. "That's one of the many reasons I love you.""Because I'm a nerd and can spew out random history facts?"He laughed. "No because your so passionate about history and wanting to know everything possible about everything. And I love that when you get so concentrated about something that your tongue pokes out between your lips.""Laugh it up pretty boy." She stood on her tiptoes leaning up to meet his lips with hers. "Love you anyways."They finished their tour of the Alcarzar before ending up in the beautiful gardens surrounding the property. They stopped and gawked at the peacocks living there before stumbling out to the city streets. "Now where?""How about some food?" Gia's stomach grumbled causing the couple to laugh. Louis nodded letting Gia lead the way. "Where to turkey?"The two walked hand in hand down the street looking at the various restaurants. Stopping in front of a sandwich place, Louis tugged Gia's hand leading her inside. The restaurant had 101 different sandwiches to choose from. Gia's eyes went wide not knowing which ones to pick from. Due to their small size, they chose 10 and got them to go. Leaving the restaurant, the two found a ledge, planting themselves down and watching the city flow around of them. "Can I ask you something?""Uh ..... Yes." Louis' hesistant tone cause her to pause. Swallowing his bite in his mouth, Louis looked at Gia with a hesitated glance. "Ever since your mom called me and said you've been kidnapped, I've become more worried about your job. I didn't realize the dangers of your job until that phone call came through. The thought of you not coming back ...." He paused shaking his head unable to finish his thought. "But I did come back." She took his hand in hers giving it a quick squeeze. "When you got back to London, I vowed I'd protect you and keep you from harm. But what if I can't protect you? What if you're kidnapped again and don't come back?"Gia swallowed listening to him be so vulnerable. "Louis I love my job just like you love yours. Yes it can be dangerous but not all the time.""Would you be willing to give it up?"His words hit her causing her to stop. "What?""You heard me." His blue eyes looked into her green orbs. Gia looked away. "Not at the moment, no but in the future I would. I love my job too much to walk away. Besides, there are certain risks with your job as well. Would you be willing to walk away?""If it risked losing your or bringing destructive harm to my family, yes I would." He said. "I understand you love your job; it's one of the things I love about you. But those 24 hours you were missing were the worse hours of my life. Not only for me but your family and friends as well. I don't want to have to go through that ever again. And if you're back in Afghanistan or Iraq again, I'm going to jump every time the phone rings worrying about getting that news you've been kidnapped again." Gia squeezed his hand, tears glistening her eyes. "I'm sorry Lou. It's my job. I won't be back in either of those countries for a while but I can't avoid those areas for the rest of my career.""When we get married, are you still going into these dangerous places? Or when we have kids?" He pressed wanting some type of commitment. Gia smiled at the thought. "I'll happily walk away when that happens. But not before.""So if I slip an engagement ring on your finger ...." Gia laughed. "You promised me a year which will be December or so. Can't you be happy that I love my job and I can support myself. Yes it poses a certain danger but I'm safe on base.""I'll give you a couple of more months but it's not going to stop me worrying about you babe. If I ever lost you ...."Listening to him trail off, Gia pressed her lips to his. "I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me." "Good. Now what?"Gia took his outstretched hand. "I don't care. Let's just walk."Tabling the heavy, serious conversation for another day, the two walked hand in hand futher into the city streets. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- August 12, 2018 "So who's Matt?" His question came a few days after she returned from base on a trial run. She had started working one or two days a week just to ease herself back into working. Gia tore her eyes from the movie playing on TV. "Who?""Matt? You have an awfully lot of texts from him." Louis said throwing his own phone on the coffee table. As soon as they returned from Spain, the couple had packed her apartment up, officially moving her into his place. The past two months had been difficult for the two, with each having their own quirks. Louis learned very quickly not to talk to Gia until she had her first sip of coffee. He would often bring her a cup in bed and sneak some snuggling too before their day officially began. Gia learned that Louis was still a bachelor at heart. She found clothes, shoes, and additional items strewn throughout the apartment. He was a slob and proud of it, which drove Gia up the wall. Gia smile. "Matt's an old buddy from school. He's coming into town next week and would like to get together for drinks. He wants to meet the guy who's captured my heart." She paused. "But the better question is why were you going through my phone, Tomlinson?""Your phone was going off and I saw who was texting you." Louis' eyes narrowed. "Why is he telling you he loves you? Did you date him Giovanna?"Gia's eyes widened. "So we're pulling out the full names huh? For your information, no I didn't date him. I'm not sure why he's telling me he loves me. He had a crush on me ages ago. I just ignored it. You sure got a lot out of that one text message you saw.""And you didn't think to tell me about this guy? Why did you hide this away from me?" Louis' voice rose in frustration. Over the past few weeks, Gia's phone had been going off at weird hours of the night. He would wake up due to her text tone but a comforting hand would rub his back and hush him back to sleep. He asked in the morning about the text and she said it was a friend or her mom but she would shift her eyes away from him. Taking a deep breath, Gia willed herself to calm down for both their sakes. "Why would I tell you about him? You don't spend your time telling me about the millions of girls who would be willing to jump your bones, do you?""Those girls don't mean anything, Gia. But apparently this boy means a hell of a lot more than you've let on. Especially since this is the first time I've heard about him," Louis said. Gia sighed. "Just like those girls, Matt means nothing. I've got my eyes on only one guy and currently he's sitting in front of me.""Then why did Ava text you about him and you meeting for dinner tonight?" Louis asked hearing nothing from his girlfriend. "Judging by your reaction, you must be keeping more from me than you've let on. What else haven't you told me Gia? What other secrets am I being kept in the dark about?""Louis." Gia started. "I was going to tell you. But I didn't know how to tell you."He chuckled. "How about there's a childhood friend of mine that I want you to meet? We're having dinner and then give me the details. How do I know you're not lying to me? This Matt character goes from someone you went to school with but now is someone who has wanted to date you in the past."She was quiet. Hell she might have just thrown the best thing she's ever had in her life away. Louis sighed. "Thought I trusted you but how do I know you're not playing me behind my back. I'm jealous of anyone who gets to spend time with you.""Louis, look at me." She waited until she had his complete attention. "Matt is just a friend, nothing more or less. Dinner was just us catching up that's it."He wanted to believe her but something was holding him back. All those late night text messages and her giggling throughout the night weighed heavy on his mind. "Gia I want to believe you but your story keeps changing.""Where does this leave us?" Gia whispered playing with the ring on her finger. The one Louis gave her on their six month anniversary as a promise to one day make her his wife. The ring symbolized his love and devotion to her, even if it didn’t seem that way right now."I have to be able to trust you and at this point I'm not sure I do." He spoke quickly, not meeting her eyes. He stood, grabbing his coat, keys heading towards the door. Gia's eyes widened. "So you're just going to up and leave? Walk away and not talk to me about this.""At this moment, yes. Our tempers are high and I don't want to say something I'll regret later." Louis opened the door. Gia clutched a glass, aiming it at towards the door. "If you walk out that door, don't expect me to be here waiting for you."Closing the door behind him, he paused. He heard the glass shatter against the door before the gut wretching sobs. Shaking his head, he headed toward the lobby to his car. Throwing the glass shocked Gia. She had never been violent but there was something about what Louis did that pissed her off and completely changed her personality. How could she let him have that much power over her? How could she get so upset with him to start throwing things around in anger? Slipping into the driver's side, Louis let his head fall to the steering wheel, as he tried to calm down. He thought about where he could go, what he he needed to buy, anything to keep his mind off what had just occurred. Picking up the phone, he dialed the one person he knew would know what to say. "Hi boo. To what do I owe this lovely surprise?" His mum's voice rang clear over the line. He sighed, turning the engine on and started driving around aimlessly. "Gia and I had a fight.""Did you steal her biscuit again or did you hog the covers?" Johannah chuckled teasing her son. Louis shook his head, if only their argument was that simple. "No mum. She's talking to this guy who has feelings for her.""Since when is that a crime? I'm sure you talking to Hannah or Eleanor looks the same." Jay sighed wishing she could slap her son over the head. "What's the real issue?" He sighed turning down a street. "I don't know.""Yes you do. You wouldn't have started a fight with Gia if there wasn't any motivation behind it. You aren't one just to start a fight just to fight, Louis William." Jay sighed. "What's the real issue here?""She kept changing the story with this guy. First they went to school then he's liked her for ages then they're meeting for dinner. She's keeping secrets mum. How am I supposed to trust her when she's talking to this guy behind my back without mentioning him to me." Louis rushed out only to hear his mum's chuckles. Jay shook her head. "Oh boo. You don't want another guy, much less one who's had a crush on your girlfriend, to hang out with her.""So what do I do?" Louis asked pulling to the curb in front of Harry's house. Jay thought for a moment. "You need to give this a few days and don't act irrational. You need to calm yourself down, give her some space and then the two of you need to talk this out face to face." "She told me not to expect her to be there at the flat waiting." Louis felt the tears pricking at her eyes. Jay's heart broke at her son's words. "I would give her time to cool off. Gia's a great girl for you Louis. Do not let her walk away."Pulling onto a familiar street, he was surprised to see Harry and Scarlett's flat staring back at him. He needed his friends at the moment. Saying goodbye to his mum, he walked up to the house, ringing the doorbell. "You look like hell mate.""Thanks." Louis said dryly following Harry into the kitchen where Scarlett, Niall, and Tricia stood. The conversation stopped when he entered the room, as if they sensed something had gone wrong. "Hey Louis." Scarlett smiled. "What's up?" "Nothing. Don't want to talk about it!" Louis took the beer Harry offered him. The couples traded glances. "Sharing is caring, Lou. What happened?""Don't want to talk. Can we drop it?"There was a commotion in the hallway followed by a squeal. "Uncle Lewie! You didn't say hello to me when you got here!""Hi princess. I'm terribly sorry for not saying hello. How are you?" Louis picked her up. "Good. Where's aunt Gia?" Mollie's innocence killed him. Her question tore his heart out. Louis smiled sadly. "She's at home. She's not feeling good and didn't want everyone to get sick.""Will you tell her I hope she feels better?" Mollie asked with a bright smile. He nodded. "Sure will, pretty girl."Mollie pushed herself away from Louis, running back down the hallway.Watching the girl run away, Louis took another sip. "Wanna talk about it?" "Geez you lot are worse than a two year old!" He exclaimed shaking his head at the girls. "Fine. I stormed out after calling Gia out on something."Tricia glared his way, brow cocked. "What did you do?""Me? Why do you automatically assume it was me?" Louis' eyes widened in defense. "Because things were going so good and you can't stand for things to go good for once in your life." Tricia glared. "So I'm going to ask you once more, what did you do to Giovanna?"Louis gulped, looking at two of his best mates for help. "You better answer or she'll get violent." As soon as the words left Niall's mouth, Tricia let her hand slap his head. "Ow!""There's more where that came from, pretty boy. What did you do to Gia?"Since their first meeting, Tricia was protective of Gia. Even though Tricia was younger, she felt as if Gia was more of a sister than a close friend. The two had bonded over many lunches and girl nights while their boyfriends were off frockling the world. "Jeez woman. I called Gia out for talking to a guy behind my back." Louis finally admitted, covering his head from any potential future slaps. Scarlett and Tricia traded glances. "What?""Does the name Matt mean anything to you?." Louis took a swig of his beer to get the bitter taste of the man's name out of his mouth.Scarlett's eyes grew in size. "How did you find out about him?""Saw the text message on her phone." Louis shrugged. "He said he loved her and they were meeting for dinner."Tricia shook her head. "Number one, you shouldn't have looked at her phone. After her purse, her cell phone is the most sacred thing she owns.""I thought that was her underwear drawer." Harry piped up. Scarlett rolled her eyes. "That's the no fly zone for all guys, you nimcompoo.""What's number two?" Louis shook his head at the couple. Tricia smiled. "You should have talked about Matt with Gia. I'm sure you blindsiding her didn't help your case at all."Looking at the people surrounding him, he sighed. "What do I do?""For what?" Harry asked. "Gia?""You're going to have to grovel and let her know you do trust her and want her in your life. A little romance doesn't hurt either," Tricia advised. That started the wheels in his mind. "Like get her flowers and shit like that?""Well shit like that isn't going to win her back. I know you can be romantic Louis William." Tricia slapped him. "Gia has gushed about your romantic arse. Now would be a good time to pull that romantic shit out."He was lost. "I don't know.""Listen, here's some ideas ..." And for the next hour, he listened to Scarlett and Tricia plot ways to woo his girl back. One Week Later - August 19, 2018She hadn't spoken to him in a week. Seven days, 168 hours, 10,080 minutes, and 604,800 seconds. In the past 8 months they had been together, they had never gone this long without talking, text messages, or voicemails.She had escaped to her parents' house for the week hoping they would keep the questions to a minimum. After a teary explanation, her mother told Gia to stay as long as she needed. Though that morning an envelope and a beautiful bouquet of colorful flowers were sitting on the front porch as she swung open the door. She picked it up twirling it in her hands. She was nervous what would be written on the contents. Taking a seat on the counter, she took a deep breath opening the envelope. A yellow piece of paper fell out. Unfolding it, she saw his scrawl across the paper. Hello sunshine,We haven't spoken in seven days .... A record for us. I'm sorry for everything. I should have been rational and talked to you like a normal human being but I let jealousy get in the way. Plain and simple I was jealous of the thought of any other guy wanting to be with you. I'm an idiot and was an absolute ass to you. I don't know if I could ever properly make up for the words and accusations I threw at you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. LouisP.S. - I am at the deli we visited last time we were in town after I met your parents. If you want, I'd love to see you but the ball is in your court. I completely understand if you don't want to come but I want to talk to you, in person, not through a note. Folding the letter back up, she tucked it back into the envelope. Sighing, she knew what her heart wanted but her head was coming up with every excuse in the book. Pulling out her phone, her finger hovered over their text message conversation. She had the mind to cuss him out and lay it all on the line. However, Gia's parents always taught her to deal with her problems face to face, looking at the other person in the eyes. I'm scared. Pressing send, she held her breath watching the two words send to the receiver. Gia's heart sped up watching the bubble bounce up and down, signaling Louis was texting her back. I am as well. Releasing the breath she held, her finger hesitated over the keyboard. Are we going to be ok? She paused before sending not knowing it was the right question to ask him. In the year since they met, the two have gone through so much. Separation, both with his job and hers, the kidnapping, him worrying he'd never see her again. The hours they had spent on the phone, the number of text messages and of course all the nicknames had left an impact on both of them. The walks in the parks, date nights, cooking in the kitchens - the number of hours they spent laughing. How devastating it would it be just to throw that all away just because of this stupid fight. She hated watching the stupid bounce up and down before disappearing. The bubble appeared twice before his message appeared. I want us to be . . . I want us to go back to how we were when we first started dating. Grabbing the keys to her car, she slipped on her sneakers before heading out of the house. Her mind was filled with various thoughts while she drove the familiar route to the place she spent most of her previous days. The butterflies were in full affect within her stomach and her heart was in a flutter. They had survived it. The meeting of her family had gone as smoothly as they could've hoped. Before leaving town, Louis had suggested coffee to celebrate the day. Gia guided him to her favorite coffee shop while showing him the town where she grew up. Pointing out the building where she took piano lessons, she almost forgot to tell him to turn at the light. He mocked glared in her direction, smoothly turning onto the adjacent street. Pulling to a stop, Louis got out of the car, pulling open the door allowing her to take his hand. "Come along m'lady."Walking up the pathway, his eyes took in the uniqueness of the hole-in-the-wall coffee shop. Pulling open the door, he allowed her to enter before him. "This is nice.""I've been coming here since I was born. Mom and dad know the owners and have become good friends with them." She smiled at the barista. "I don't have a single memory that doesn't include this shop."They placed their order, quickly finding a spot next to the roaring fire. They spoke quietly, only being interrupted by the delivering of their drinks. "We'll look what the cat dragged in!" Gia perked up at the voice turning around with a bright smile on her face. "Luke. It's good to see you!" "You as well little one." Luke was an older man, mid to late 60s, salt and pepper hair. Louis smiled at the man as Gia gasped. "Luke this is Louis; Louis this is Luke, the owner."Louis shook his head smiling. "It's nice to meet you. I was just telling Gia I love this place.""It's built on a lot of love and many years of friendship." Luke smiled. The couple smiled, inviting Luke to join them. The older man filled Louis in on the mischief and shenanigans Gia had done during her childhood. Many laughs were shared that afternoon. Pulling into the parking lot, stopping the car before emitting a loud sigh. Running her hand through her hair, she fluffed it a bit before checking her makeup in the mirror, Gia gave herself a semi pep talk before getting out of the car. Muttering under her breath, Gia sighed. "You can do this Giovanna. Just walk in and talk to him. You've missed him this week and you've been miserable. Just walk in and talk to him. Clear this whole mess up." Walking up the front, her eyes immediately zoned in on Louis. He was sitting at a table in the corner with a mug of tea. His eyes were glue to something outside the big bay window to his right. For seeing him for the first time in seven days, he looked good. She had missed him but she wasn't going to let him get away with that fight easily. Opening the door, Gia slipped in before walking across the deli to where her (ex?) boyfriend sat. Hell, she didn't even know where they stood. Without saying a word, she took the spot across from him with a small smile. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye, before jumping slightly with the chair scraping along the ground. "Sorry." "You kinda have nothing to be sorry for." He took a swig of the tea. "Actually I have so much to be sorry for. And I'm sorry, Gia. I'm sorry for everything."She smiled letting her eyes trail over him for the first time in a week. "How have you been?""Not good." He paused. "I stayed held up at the flat. I got my head slapped too many times by Scarlett and Tricia. How about you?"Gia thought back to her week of hell. "Not good. Mom was hovering the entire week. I got pity looks from the boys and Ava. I was miserable to tell you the truth.""I heard from your brothers. They paid a nice little visit to London the day after you showed up to your parents'." Her eyes went wide. "What did they do?""Nothing that I didn't deserve." Louis thought back on the harsh and very frank conversation Leo, Alex, and Ryan had with him. "They just handed me my ass and told me to make it right with you."Gia swore under her breath. "I'm gonna kill them, slow and painfully.""Go easy on them. Can't say I wouldn't have done the same if it was one of my sisters."She shook her head. "All right enough about my brothers. Do you want to know something? "What?"She reached for his hand. "You were never far from my thoughts. I would often stop and wonder what you were doing; who you were talking to, what you were thinking. I wanted to pick up the phone and call you but always chickened out.""I'm sorry Giovanna. I will be saying that to you for the rest of my days." Louis squeezed her hand. "What do you need from me?"Taking a deep breath, she thought back on the last few days. She squeezed his hand back, smiling slightly. "First, I need you to trust me. I trust you 100% and with your job it isn't the easiest thing in the world. I know I should've told you about Matt but the truth of the matter is that I didn't know how. Whenever you and I are together, it's light hearted and fun; no drama. I didn't want that to change. You and I work so incredibly well together that I didn't want to rough the waters up. Second, we both need to know when it's time to leave the situation. I'll always let you leave providing you come back and talk it out with me. I was upset you left but looking back I understand completely. I'm glad you had the guts to walk out before we could say anything really bad."She took a deep breath. "I also need to apologize for throwing the glass as soon as you walked out. I let my anger get the best of me and I have no idea what possessed me to do that. I'm sorry.""I think I can do those." He smiled. "And I don't want you to take this the wrong way ..... But what do you think about taking a night to ourselves once or twice a month just to regroup and reconnect. That can be a night that we being focus back on our relationship and ourselves. I was scared that I lost you forever and I will never forget what that feeling feels like. I'm sorry, Gia for ever doubting you and calling you out for something that was untrue."He paused. "I stood outside the door and heard the glass shatter. I walked away after hearing your sobs." Gia nodded. "I'd like that. There are times it feels like you and I are going in 100 different directions - a night or two to ourselves would only be beneficial to our relationship. Apology accepted. No more I'm sorry’s. You made a mistake, hopefully learned from that mistake and now we move on.""I'm forgiven that easy?" His voice was full of shock. Gia laughed. "Nope. You will have to wine and dine me, darling. I'm thinking trips to the theater, shopping excursions, all the girly things men absolutely hate. Think of it as payback.""As long as I'm spending time with you, consider it done." Louis laughed as Gia smile. Slapping the table, Gia got to her feet offering her hand to Louis. "Come on.""Where are we going?" Louis accepted her hand, letting her guide him out of the coffee shop. Gia smiled before leading him down the street. She pointed out various places she spent during her childhood as they walked to her favorite place in the city. "Here."Her declaration caused him to give her a puzzled look. "Here what?""Here was where I told my mom that I thought I was in love." Louis laughed. "Right in front of the laundry mat?""Yes. I was home for a weekend right before we shared our first 'I Love Yous' and you were texting me goofy things from an interview you just had. Mom called me out on the bright smile I had on my face." She stopped, looking at his eyes. He squeezed her hand pulling Gia closer to him. "She asked what had me so happy. I told her I had been seeing this guy. You could tell she wanted to asked questions but she held back. She did ask one question."He grinned. "What question was that?" "She asked if I loved this boy. Because if my smile was anything to go by, then I must love this boy more than I knew." Louis cleared his throat, snaking his arm around her wait pulling her flush with him. "I love you Giovanna.""I love you too Pooks."Louis groaned, leaning down kissing her. They had a nice little make out session in front of the laundry mat. Pulling back, Louis narrowed his eyes. "One other thing we need to work on.""What's that?" Gia's eyes rose in suspense. His smile brightened, a chuckle escaping his mouth. "We need to work on nicknames for each other. Pooks has to go!""Come on!" Gia argued. "That's my favorite one. If that one goes so does Damsel."Louis's hook his head. "That was your first nickname bubs! You're stuck with that one."Wounds were still fresh. Things were forgiven but it would take some time for them to be officially forgotten. The two moved forward, really paying attention to their relationship and working on trusting one another. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- October 22, 2018It was coming up on a year since our two lovebirds had met in that now famous bar. No celebrations had been planned but Gia had a secret up her sleeve for her boyfriend. Jumping on the bed, she placed her cold hands on his back eliciting a whine from her sleeping partner. "Gia.""Good morning Popstar. Come on and get up. I've got a surprise for you." She announced loudly causing the covers to be pulled over his head. Louis whine; Gia merely laughed. "It's a great surprise and you're going to love it.""Does it require me moving from this bed?" Pulling the covers away from his face, Gia giggled. "Yes, you do. I've put a lot of effort into this surprise for you. Come on."Groaning, he managed to push himself up to a sitting position giving her a pitiful look. "Am I going to like this surprise?""You're going to love it Pooks! Get ready. I've got breakfast almost ready."Walking out of the room, she headed back to the kitchen. The past two months since their fight had renewed the couple. They were back to their old selves but had a new focus on their relationship. Their friends had noticed a difference and whole-heartily approved. Scooping the eggs and toast onto the plates, Gia dug into hers while hearing shuffling in the bedroom. Another thing they had started was equally planning their outings and dates. Louis was always up for adventures and that's exactly what was on the agenda for today. "I'm up and ready! Are you happy?" Louis grumbled sitting at the bar. Gia grinned in his direction. "Ecstatic. Now eat up. We have places to go and people to see.""What are we doing exactly?"Finishing her food, Gia placed her plate in the dishwasher, turning her attention to Louis. "You're going to have to wait and see. No hints! But you might want to bring a jacket; it may get cold where we are going.""How are we getting there?" Finishing his tea, Louis looked at his girlfriend grinning. Double checking her bag, Gia shook her head. "We are taking the train.""You are having too much fun with this Italia!" Nodding, she couldn't disagree with him. "Yup! You usually have me in the dark; now the tables are turned so now you get to see how I always feel." "I'm done. When are we leaving?"Seeing the clock hit 7:15, she smiled. "Ten minutes?""Sounds good." He murmured, sauntering over to her, pressing his lips to hers. "I didn't get my good morning kiss."Sighing into the kiss, Gia wrapped her arms around his waist. "I'm sorry. I was just excited for today. Get ready and we'll go.""Love you too turkey." Louis muttered walking out of the kitchen. Gia giggled, walking her boyfriend walk away. He was so easy to tease and on most days she had fun with it. She knew he would be difficult today; he did not like being in the dark when it came to their dates. He loved having his hands in every piece of his life and for him to be in the dark, well he didn't take to kindly to that. Grabbing her purse, keys to the flat, she did one more sweep of the kitchen before heading towards the door. "Come on pretty boy. Your hair looks fine.""Hold your horses babe. It takes time for me to look this good." He grinned meeting her in the living room. Louis linked hands with Gia before guiding her out of the flat. The two walked through the lobby heading towards the closest tube station. "Which stop are we getting off at?""Kings Cross Station." Growling under his breath, he mocked glare. "You're killing me Gia. Throw me some kind of bone. Where are we going once we reach Kings Cross? Are we going to the countryside or to another major city? Are we going shopping or getting our nails done or going to a movie? Give me a break.""Are you quite done?" Heading to the underground, Gia linked their hands in fears of losing sight of Louis. "I'm taking you to a place that's really special to me. You have been here before but only saw a piece of it. I want to show you the important parts. Now once we are on the train, I'll give you three yes or no questions you can ask."His eyes widened grinning. "Why not five or ten?""Don't push it. I don't want you to figure it out before we get there." Stepping onto the train, Louis guided her to a seat near the back of the cabin. "Now what's your first question." Louis chuckled. "Did we have a date here?""Yes."Nodding, that narrowed the places they've been down to a mere 200 places. "Is this place important to our relationship?""Yes; this is your last one Popstar. Make it count." Gia teased. He had two places in his mind. "Did I surprise you big time at this place?" "Yes, yes you did." She laughed. "Any guesses?"He leaned over, placing a kiss on her lips. "You're taking me to the base.""How? What? Why?" She stammered causing him to laugh. "How did you figure it out?"He rose his eyes in elation. "A gentleman never tells."She snorted in laughter at his excuse. "Tell me how you figured it out.""The only place I've really truly surprised you is when I came to the base." The train came to a stop, the two stepped off heading to buy their tickets for their next train. "So why are we going to the base?"Gia smiled. "I've seen your job up close and personal but you haven't really seen mine. I figured I'd let you see what I do on a daily basis.""I know you work on the bombers." He started watching her shake her head. Quickly purchasing their tickets, Gia thanked the attendant before following Louis to their new platform. "Everyone knows I work on the bombers but I want you to see what else I do. If you don't want to do it, we can do something else. I thought you'd like to see my job at a local level instead of being in the dark.""No. I love that you want to show me your job. I've always wanted but didn't think you could actually talk about it." He paused. "After you got kidnapped, I got more curious about your job. What could you do that would put you in that much danger?"Gia smiled. "The job itself isn't dangerous. It's just where the job takes me is dangerous." "I'm excited to see the aspects of your job." Pulling her into his embrace, he kissed her slowly. "I love that you planned this and went through the trouble."She kissed him back. "I want to give you a piece of mind with my job and if this is going to do it then I'm more than happy to do it."The two boarded the train, getting settled before talking quietly about everything and anything under the sun. He was thrilled to hear her giggles ring out as he told her about a pressing interviewer they had encountered the week prior. That was a sound he wasn't sure he would ever get tired of. An hour later"So this is my home away from home." Pushing open the door to her little room, Gia grinned at Louis. He stepped into the room and nodded. "Looks quaint. Lots of photos of you and me. Scouring the internet again for photos of us?""You know it." She grinned. "Your fan girls are only too happy to post photos of us together." Louis took one more look around the room, offering his hand to Gia. "You're funny. You often have your camera out while we are on dates.""You caught me. Ready to go to the next part?" She asked taking his hand, pulling him from the room. Locking the door, the two headed downstairs before heading out to the sunny day. Louis looked around the surroundings, taking in everything. "So it's 8:30am. Where would you be on a normal day?" "Typically I'd already be in the bomber facility. Since it's a Monday, I'd be in an early morning meeting with all the leads." Gia sighed. "Since I've been forced to half my time on base, Drew has been taking on those meetings."Due to cutbacks with budgets, Gia's position had been reduced to 30 hours a week. She would typically work three 10 hour days thus her time on base limited. She shook her head thinking about her job's situation. Pulling her closer to him, Louis kissed her forehead. "I know it hurts baby but you love this job and isn't some aspect of the job better than none of it?""Yea but ...." Gia shook her head. He grinned. "No buts. You love this job and some aspect of it is better than anything else. Besides, at any point you're unhappy, you can walk away, Damsel.""I know." He saw her roll her eyes at him. "You're right."Louis smirked. "Can you repeat that?""Shut up." She smacked him shaking her head. "Come on."Walking across the campus, Gia pointed out various landmarks and told him stories of what famous and not so famous things had happened there. He was laughing as they entered the bomber facility. "Well look what the cat dragged in." Drew smirked, standing on a ladder looking at the bomber in front of him. "What are you doing here baby girl?"Walking closer to the bomber, Gia ran her hand over the side of the airplane. "Brought the am here to see the base and show him what I do on a daily basis. Louis, this is Drew; Drew, this is Louis." "Nice to meet you man." Drew hopped down the ladder, holding his hand out for Louis to grab. "Feels like I already know you from the way this one talks about you."Louis smirked. "Same. Your name is often brought up at the flat.""So what are you showing him exactly?" Drew smirked. Patting the side of the bomber, Gia smirked in Louis' direction. "Louis wants to know exactly about our job so I'm showing him.""What do you mean exactly?" Louis' voice wavered a bit causing Gia and Drew to chuckle. Walking to stand in front of her boyfriend, Gia grinned. "How would you like to go up in a bomber today?""What?"Drew laughed causing Gia's smirk to widen. "How about I take you for the ride of your life, Popstar? Come on.""Gia! Seriously?"Taking his hand, she smiled. "I got it cleared. Well you just have to meet the corporal's daughters but other than that, you got clearance. You gonna chicken out on me?""Never." The grin was hard to wipe off Louis' face. "You're really gonna fly me around?"She nodded, grasping his hand. "Come on Pooks. We've got an open sky to go visit. You coming Drew?"The trio walked out to the airfield, prepping both the bomber and Louis for the flight. They quickly got Louis suited up as Gia pulled her personalized suit on. "You cannot freak out on me, Popstar. I know what I'm doing and you've got to trust me. Think you can do that?""Of course, always." Louis smirked. Gia double checked every square inch of the suit that currently encased Louis' body. "How are you feeling Soldier?" Loving the way the old nickname rolled off his tongue, Gia leaned over and kissed him. "Good. Excited for you to get up in the skies with me."Pointing up the ladder, Gia nodded in her boyfriend's direction. "I'll help you buckle up once you're settled. You don't have any controls so you just get to sit back and enjoy the view. Leave all the piloting to me."Walking up the ladder, Louis got settled looking up at at his girlfriend smirking. "You are enjoying this way too much!""I am Popstar." She grinned. "Is that belt too tight?""No but you didn't need an excuse to touch the goods." He whispered watching her cheeks grow rosy red. Smacking him, Gia shook her head. "That's enough from the peanut gallery.""You ready for this Italia?" Lou smirked holding tight to the bar in front of him. She laughed getting into her own seat. "As ready as I'll ever be. Are you ready to go loop de loop?" "Loop de loop?" He gulped, his eyes widening. Snapping her belt into place, Gia smirked. "I was watching an old interview of yours and you told Zayn that the plane is going to go loop de loop when it took off. So now you have that glorious opportunity now.""Gia no!" Hearing the fear in his voice, Gia shook his head. "No loop de loop? How about a barrel roll? Or a nose dive?""You're evil!" She simply laughed, pushing buttons to start the plane. "Hold onto your hat Popstar!"Rolling out to the runway, Gia was in her mode. Louis, however, was holding onto his hat scared of what his girlfriend had in store. Five hours later"So any loop de loops?" The boys along with their better halves were sitting around the couple's kitchen table. Cups of tea were distributed and anxious breathes were held waiting to hear of Louis and Gia's travels to the base. "Yes there were loop de loops, barrels rolls and nose dives." Gia had managed to shave ten years off his life by scaring him. Gia smirked over her tea cup. "You should have heard him scream!""Giovanna you promised!" He whined causing the guys to howl with laughter. Niall chuckled. "How was it being up there with her? Nothing but open skies?""It was amazing. The views were incredible. Overall it was a cool experience except when Gia made me think I was going to die!" Louis shook his head, glaring in his girlfriend's direction. Holding her hands up innocently, Gia smiled. "You weren't going to die Popstar. Stop being so overly dramatic! You were in very capable hands the entire time we were in flight.""Did you just go over base or did you fly elsewhere?" Tricia asked watching Mollie and Poppy play with Socks, the little girls' laughter filling the room. Louis' eyes lit up. "She flew over London. It was pretty cool to see the buildings from high up instead of the ground.""Uhhhh the view was all right." Gia shrugged, hearing everyone laugh. Scarlett shook her head laughing at her friend. "The view was just all right? I think the view would be pretty spectacular.""I think I was more excited to see Louis' reaction to everything than really taking in the view." Gia shook her head. "I think he overused the word 'Oh My Goodness'." Everyone laughed causing Mollie to leave Socks and climb up in Louis' lap. "Uncle Lewie?""Yes my fairy princess?" Mollie's face lit up at the mentioning of being a princess. "Is auntie Gia leaving us?"Silence fell over the group. They all had the same question and after May none of them wanted to see her go anywhere. "No baby I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. Actually, I have news about that.""What kind of news? Good news?" Zayn looked hopeful as Louis smirked. Gia nodded smoothing Mollie's hair back. "I talked to my supervisors and starting the beginning of December I'm done traveling. I'm staying at the base as the consultant no longer the the lead engineer. Drew is taking over for me.""So what does that mean?" Perrie asked pulling Poppy onto her lap. Looking over at Louis, who grinned brightly, Gia smiled. "That means I'm on base three days and home four days. No more international travel. Basically it's a desk job with some face time with the bombers. This is the first step in me essentially retiring from the navy.""Does that mean what I think it means?" Danielle bounced in her chair looking at Louis with a bright smile. Louis shook his head. "No no no. She would have my head if I ask her that. Not yet but soon.""I would have your head if you ask me what?" Gia asked eyes raised in curiosity. Glaring at the four women that surrounded him, Louis turned to Gia with a smile. "Nothing you need to worry about turkey.""Uh huh sure." Taking a sip of her tea, Gia locked eyes with her boyfriend. "I'm assuming I'll find out at some point?"Louis merely smirked and nodded. "But not yet." He added. The two relaxed with friends both glad for the upcoming days, weeks, months and years they had together. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- December 31, 2018 She should have known today was different when she woke up to an empty bed. Gia couldn't recall the last time she didn't wake up to Louis' snores and quiet hums. A note was placed on his pillow along with a pink Dahlia. Morning Italia, I'm sorry I'm not there with you when you wake but I'm planning a surprise for you. You're going on a bit of a scavenger's hunt today. The girls should be there soon and they'll spend the morning with you. They have your first clue. Have fun and I love you! Louis Pulling herself out of bed, Gia wondering what her boyfriend had up his sleeve. Pulling on her dark washed jeans, a white long-sleeved shirt, her teal scarf and a pair of grey boots, she shook her hair trying to figure out what to do with it. Deciding not to mess with it, she pulled it up into a messy bun, heading out of the bedroom. Grinning, she heard the girls' loud voices as she neared the kitchen. "There she is!" Tricia grinned holding a mug in her hands and a bright smile on her face. "Did you sleep well?" Gia smirked, making herself a cup of tea. "Yes I did. Lou is very skilled, if you catch my drift." The girls laughed, shaking their heads at their friend. "So what's the plans for the day?" "That's for you to find out at a later time." Danielle smiled, her eyes bright with excitement. Not wanting to push it, Gia nodded turning her attention to the littlest one in the room. "Hi Mollie!!." "Hi Aunt Gia. Uncle Lewie told us he's got a 'prise for you." Mollie grinned brightly twirling around the room in her dress. Moving closer to the newly turned five year old, Gia crouched down to Mollie's height. "He did? Can you give me a hint?" "No silly. It's a 'prise! He promise me 50 pounds if I didn't dell you anything with a trip to de zoo." She giggled loudly. "But he said to give you dis." It was a small box wrapped in multicolored polka dots paper. There was a thick black ribbon tied around it. Sliding it off, she wrapped it around Mollie's arm, who in returned smiled brightly. Ripping off the paper, Gia opened the box, noticing a gold bracelet and an envelope. Tearing open the envelope, she grabbed the letter unfolding it. Hi Damsel, So this is officially your first clue. You should be able to figure this out pretty quickly. There are some rules though. At each stop, you must take a photo and send it my way. Take as many photos as you want, you're going to want to remember this. Second, ask as many questions as you want or need. The girls will be with you for most of the morning but they will be leaving you in capable hands later on in the day. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I love you and I'll see you later. Louis P.S. - Your next clue will be at the place on the bracelet Looking up from the letter, she smiled at the girls. "What do you have there?" "My first clue and a letter. Louis is sending me on a scavenger's hunt of sorts. And apparently you girls are along for the ride." Gia smiled taking the bracelet out of the box and looking at it. The gold band was plain with “51° 30' 11.8542" and “-0° 7' 47.8128" inscribed on it. She racked her brain trying to figure out where the coordinates laid. "He would throw me for a loop." She muttered, pulling out her phone. Plugging in the coordinates into the app, she smiled seeing where they landed. "Let's go girls." Slipping on coats and gathering their purses, Gia and the girls headed towards the door. "And where are we going exactly?" Tricia asked, holding Mollie's hand as they locked up the flat. "The park we always ended up after our dates. It's kinda become a tradition for Louis and I." Gia smiled leading the way down the sidewalk. Despite being New Year's Eve, it was 2°C with no wind. It was actually a pretty pleasant day. She hummed to herself as her and the girls trotted down the way. Mollie was chattering with Scarlett and while Scarlett was giggling with Danielle. "What are you thinking about?" Tricia creeped up silently to walk beside her friend. Startled by the intrusion to her thoughts, Gia jumped. "Jeez woman you need a bell. Give a girl some warning next time." "And you're avoiding my question miss. What are you thinking about?" Tricia smirked. Seeing the park ahead, Gia looked over at Tricia. "Just how much Louis has planned. I'm anxious to see what he has up his sleeve." "Oh you will love it. Let's just say Louis has given the boys some big shoes to fill." Tricia gushed. Entering the park, Gia let her eyes scan the area she had come to love. "Now what?" "I'm suppose to look for the next clue. It should be around here somewhere." Scarlett looked at Gia. The park was a good size and would take a while to search the entire area. "Is there a bench you two always sat on or somewhere here that's special for the two of you?" There were two places that were special to the couple within the park. Walking towards a bench they often sat on, Gia's shoulders slumped when she realized that was a dead-end. "One more place. Heading across the park, the girls struggled to keep up with Gia. Stopping at a large sycamore tree in which Louis had carved their initials into the truck. Tied up in the branch above her was a yellow sunflower and an envelope. Untying the bundle, she quickly opened up the envelope pulling out the letter. Hello Soldier, So you're on your second clue! Congrats on figuring out the first one. Hope you liked the bracelet. Wear it and know that's our little secret place if you ever need to get away but always promise you'll come back to me. Now for the next part: head to your favorite dress shop and pick out a dress to party the night away. Not long now until I see you. All my love, Louis Folding the letter back up, she turned to the girls. "We have our next destination." Taking a photo with the tree, Gia smiled, sending the photo to Louis before pocketing her phone. "Where to now madam?" Laughing at Danielle's posh accent, Gia nodded towards the park entrance. "The dress shop we always frequent." "Why there?" Tricia asked. Taking Mollie from her arms, Gia danced down the sidewalk causing the little girl and their friends laugh. "Did Louis not tell you anything? According to his letter, I could ask you guys any and all questions I wanted." "He told us need to know information." Scarlett informed her. "But he didn't give us specific information." The group continued on their journey. Gia had Mollie in her arms singing an One Direction song softly in her ear. Stopping in front of Hoopla, Gia threw open the door, stepping inside followed by the girls. A perky saleswoman smiled brightly in her direction. "Hi can I help you?" Transferring Mollie back to Tricia, Gia smiled. "I'm looking for a dress. My boyfriend is surprising me with a big night out." "You wouldn't happen to be Giovanna would you?" The saleswoman asked shuffling through some papers. Nodding, Gia looked at her friends with wide eyes. "I am." "Louis spoke very highly of you. He has everything taken care of." Pausing, the woman smiled. "I'm sorry; I'm Mary and I will be assisting you today. If you follow me, we have a dressing room started for you. You have some guests waiting for you as well." Looking back at the girls, Gia tried to figure out who would be waiting for her. Ava and her mum both had plans so it couldn't be them. Nevertheless, the group followed Mary to the back. Gia lost in her own thoughts failed to see who her guests were until Tricia bumped her hip with Gia's. "Surprise!" Looking up, Gia gasped seeing her mum, Ava and her grandma Catalanotte standing there along with Jay, Lottie, Fizzy, Daisy and Phoebe. "What are you all doing here?" "We are here to help the Princess get ready for the ball or at least that's what Louis told us." Daisy exclaimed causing Phoebe and Mollie to giggle. Jay smiled at her daughter. "Louis asked us to come down for the weekend. He asked us to help you." "Thank you for coming. Avie, Mumma, Nonna you three little liars." Gia smirked at her family. Ava laughed at her sister. "Like I was going to ruin the surprise. I'm not about to cross Louis Tomlinson when he's determined. I value my life too much!" "All right dramatic one. I completely understand. Louis has always been a sneaky one." Gia smiled at the thought of her boyfriend. Mary smiled at the sisters. "Shall we get started and let Gia try on some dresses?" For the next hour and half, Gia tried on several dresses, opting for a plain black dress that she dressed up with a mint green bubble necklace, a green stoned ring and the emerald green earrings Louis had bought her while they were in Spain. Black peep-toed heels would accent her emerald painted toenails. "I think this has been a very successful shopping trip." Jay grinned at her son's girlfriend. Gia smiled back, watching Mary wrap up the dress in a plastic bag. "Now I believe this is for you." Taking the now familiar envelope from her mum along with the Pale Pink Ranunculus, Gia opened the envelope, pulling out the letter. Turkey, Hi! You're almost there love. Hopefully the shopping trip was successful. Can't wait to see you all dressed up and ready to party the night away. Now for the next part. You are going to leave the girls behind. There's a car waiting for you outside. The driver will take you to your next destination. Not long now love. See you soon. Love, Louis Gia folded the letter back up, putting it in her purse with the others before looking up at her friends and family. "I guess this is where I say goodbye and continue on." Gia stated. A group photo was taken, sent, hugs and well wishes were given before Gia left the shop and headed towards the car. Paul grinned at her opening the door. "Don't you have anything better to be doing than drive me around?" "You would think so but seeing Louis beg for my help was just too sweet to witness." And with that Paul helped Gia into the car, shutting the door behind her. He hopped into the car and before long the two of them were on their way to a place where only one of them knew. "Do you know what's happening?" "Yes and I will not be spilling any secrets miss." Paul teased with a smile. Gia laughed. "So no hints?" "Nope but I will say Louis was pretty funny while he was planning this. He had millions of pieces of paper laying around trying to figure out which you'd like best." Paul made a left turn looking in the mirror. "You are going to love what he has planned. We are almost there. Take a few minutes to calm your nerves." Returning to her thoughts, Gia completely trusting Louis but was nervous about what was in store. Everyone was telling her she would love it and Louis was setting the bar high for the other boys. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she would spend her New Year's Eve running around London. But she was having fun while her boyfriend left her guessing at every turn. "Gia, hey Gia?" Shaking from her thoughts, she looked at Paul. "Sorry to interrupt but we're at your next stop." "Thanks." Gathering her dress, purse and jewelry, she looked out the car window, finding herself at an airfield. "Are you kidding me?" Paul laughed opening the door for her. "Nope. Your chariot awaits." Gia followed his finger to the private jet that waited. "Thanks Paul." She made her way to the jet. Walking up the steps, she placed her bags on a seat, noticing a Purple Peony and an envelope sitting in an adjacent seat. She took a deep breath, grabbing the envelope and opening it. Love, Come fly with me! You're on your way to another place you've always wanted to go. It's a short plane ride. Once you land, there will be a limo waiting for you. Almost time to meet up with me. Now, sit back, relax, and you'll see me before you know it. I love you always. Louis Folding up the letter, Gia smiled to herself. She took his advice and relaxed against the seat. Or at least tried to. The nerves bubbled in her tummy as she thought about her remarkable boyfriend. Her mind traveled back to their first date. He wouldn't put on the big elaborate plan just to propose ... would he? She closed her eyes willing the plane ride to go quickly anxious to see what her boyfriend was up to. Hour and half later She awoke as the plane touched down. Taking a deep breath, she took a moment to coat her lips in lipstick before the plane came to a stop. The stairs were pushed away from the plane allowing Gia to take a moment to gather her belongings. Heading down the steps she smiled at the man awaiting her in front of the limo. "Ciao Giovanna. Benvenuti Italia." A man in a suit smiled at her, holding out his hand. "I'm James and I'll be your driver. Welcome to Italy!" Shaking his hand, Gia's face brightened. "It's very nice to meet you and thank you." Opening the door, she allowed him to help her into the limo. Shutting the door, she took a couple of deep breaths knowing she would be seeing Louis soon. "Ahh miss?" "Yes?" James cleared his throat, passing her something from the front seat. "A Mr Tomlinson left this for you." Taking the letter and an Orange Lily, she smiled in thanks. Quickly opening the letter, she got comfortable before allowing herself to read the words written. Gia, You're in the last leg of your journey. Welcome to Rome, Italy. I wish I could see your face right now. Get ready in your dress and be downstairs by 7:00p.m. I will meet you and we will party the night away. See you soon love. Louis She shook her head at Louis. Rome of all places. She couldn't believe her life and the amazing man she was dating. She would probably let Louis have it at some point but for now she was just too happy. Before long the limo pulled to a stop in front of a hotel. James came and opened the door for her before handing over a key card. "Room 1427." "Thank you James." Walking into the hotel, her boots squeaked against the tile floor. Going to the elevator, she pushed the button to the 14th floor. Her heart beated loudly against her chest as she stepped off the elevator. Following the hallway, she stopped in front of the door, putting the key into the door. Pushing open the door, she stepped into the room. Two duffel bags sat on the bed and Gia quickly recognized them as hers and Louis'. On the beside table, a letter and a bouquet of flowers laid. The flowers were the exact same ones she found in her room the day Louis asked her to be his girlfriend. Dahlias, Ranunculus, Sunflowers, Peonies, Lilies, Chrysanthemums, Forget Me Nots, Daisies, Carnations and Daffodils. There were new additions, two red roses. Smiling she smelt the flowers before unfolding the letter. Damsel, You've got about two hours until you meet me downstairs. Take a shower, calm your heart, and take a few deep breaths. Get ready in your dress and be ready to have the night of your life. Love you to the moon and back. Louis Taking his advice, she hopped into the shower and calmed herself down. Taking her time getting ready, she blowed dried her hair, curling it slightly, it laying on her shoulders. She put on her necklace and ring before attaching her earrings to her ear lobes. She spritzed herself with the perfume Louis loved, granting herself one more look in the mirror. She realized it was 6:30p.m. She wasn't nervous, no it was more anxiety, the unknown of what the night held caused her heart to skyrocket. She knew once she saw Louis, all would be right in her world. A thousand thoughts ran through her head, each crazier than the previous. But the thing was Louis knew her better than she knew herself sometimes. Her cell phone chimed, alerting her of a text messages. Picking up the phone, a smiled tugged on her lips as she read the message. You ready? Yes! Are you? Come on down then. She slipped on her black peep-toed heels, grabbed her coat and black clutch before walking out the door, letting it slam behind her. Pausing she took a breath, trying to will the nerves away. Dear god, what if he was asking her to marry him? Mrs Giovanna Maria Tomlinson ... has a nice ring to it. Of course she'd say yes. Shaking her head, Gia was getting ahead of herself. Moving quickly down the hallway, her heels clicked against the tiles near the elevator. Pushing the down button, she stepped inside once the doors were opened. The smile couldn't be wiped from her lips as she thought about all the trouble her boyfriend had gone through. Whatever would happen that night, she knew she would have fun all because she was with Louis. The elevator doors opened revealing the lobby. Stepping out of the elevator, her eyes scanned the space, landing on Louis with his hands in his dark grey dress pant pockets. From what she could see, he was dressed in a suit. He was staring at something out the front doors. The clicking of her heels drew him out of his daydream causing him to turn around, his eyes landing on her and a bright smile on his face. "Well hello Damsel aren’t you are a sight for sore eyes, darling." "Well, well look who is sucking up to me big time? So what is so important that you've kept me in suspense all day and fly me out to Rome?" Louis chuckled, pulling Gia closer to his chest. "All in good time, Italia. All in good time." "So now what? I mean we are dressed to the nines and I'd hate to see our suit and dress go to waste." Gia leaned up, giving him a kiss. Louis returned the kiss, tightening his grip on her waist. "Dinner first then from there it's a surprise. You ready?" Gia nodded, accepting his arm once it was offered. She let him take the lead, letting him guide her towards the door and out of the hotel. He helped her into the limo, getting in behind her. "So I get no hints about what is going on tonight?" Gia shook her head. "By the way, your mum and sisters say hello." Louis laughed. "I had tea with them this morning. They were very excited to see you this afternoon. As for a hint, you will be checking something you've wanted to do for a long time off your bucket list." "I've got 23 things still on my bucket list, twelve of which could be accomplished in this country." Gia exclaimed listening to her boyfriend laugh. He smiled. "I know you're frustrated with me but all I ask is a little more time. I promise you will know everything by midnight." "Five hours to go." Gia smiled feeling the limo pull to a stop. Louis raised his eyes. "Is that a challenge Giovanna?" "Why not? I challenge you Pooks to make the next five hours the best I've ever had." Gia smirked in his direction. Louis nodded. "Challenge accepted, Giovanna. But let's make this a little more interesting." "In what way?" Opening the limo door, Louis got out offering her his hand, helping her out. "I'm saying if the next five hours aren't the best you've ever had, I will do whatever you want for an entire day but if they are then, you do whatever I want. I'm envisioning footsie games, lots of them." "Ok hot shot, you're on. But prepare yourself for a spa day, pedicures, and manicures." Gia giggled watching Louis' face turn to disgust. He opened the door for her, grinning. "Let the fun begin. We have reservations under Buckland." Louis directed the last part to the hostess. As the hostess led the couple to a table in the back, Gia raised her eyes in her boyfriend's direction. "Buckland?" "I wanted and needed discretion for tonight." He laughed. "You'll have to thank Niall and Harry for thinking up the name." She laughed, sitting in the chair as he pushed it in. Louis ordered a really good bottle of wine before the two were left alone. "So how involved were our friends and family in helping you plan tonight?" "Very involved, even more than I anticipated. But I wouldn't have it any other way." He smirked her way. "They were very helpful. The girls threatened my life more times than I could count; the boys yelled at me for creating such big shoes to fill; and my mum couldn't stop crying, the girls yelling." Shaking her head at the craziness that made up their extended family. "And my family?" "Beyond excited. I think your mum is a bit jealous though." The waitress brought their wine interrupting their conversation. Louis ordered for them both, the waitress leaving them alone. "Why would mum be jealous?" "You're currently in Rome, Italy on New Year's Eve, sweetheart." And with that their conversation left friends and family and turned to that of 2019. The boys were planning a late summer tour that had sold completely out. They were excited to get back on the road. They were finishing up a record that would drop in April, their 9th studio album, written entirely by the boys. Their meals were delivered, tickling their senses with their delicious scents. They dug in, each enjoying stealing bites from each other plates. Drowning the last of her wine, Gia looked at Louis with curiosity. "Now what?" "Dessert now or later?" "Later I'm too full." Gia's hand fell to her belly, too full to eat another bite. Louis signaled for the check, grinning in Gia's direction. Once everything was settled, Louis stood offered Gia his hand, pulling her from her seat. "Let's go for a walk." Leading her from the restaurant, Louis waved off James and the limo, telling him to they'd call when they were ready to be picked up. Rome was incredibly gorgeous at night when the city was lit up. The streets were eerily quiet for it being New Year's Eve. They stopped and threw change into the foundations they passed, each wishing for different things but at the same time the same things. Louis tugged on her hand leading her towards the bridge to their right. "Do you know what this is?" Louis asked watching Gia touch all the locks attached to the bridge. Gia grinned. "It's a love bridge. They say that if you attach a lock to the bridge with a partner then the two will be together forever." "I was thinking we could attach a lock. But first there's something I want to ask you." Louis said putting a hand in his pocket. "Fourteen months ago you came into my life and I knew that my life would never be the same. We started dating a little more than a year ago and I knew I wanted you by my side for the rest of my life." Sinking to his knee, he noticed the tears in her eyes, Louis squeezed her hand. "Giovanna Maria, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?" She didn't have to think; quickly nodding, too emotional to physically say the word but Louis understood it all too well. He got to his feet, pulling her closer to him. "Yes, yes, yes a million times yes I will marry you!" He kissed her on the middle of the bridge, stopping only to pick her up and twirl her around. Once she was steady on her feet, Louis slipped the 2.3 carat channel-round diamond ring on her finger. Raising her hand to admire the ring, Gia gasped. "Louis William Tomlinson you spent way too much on this ring and trip." Raising his eyebrows in her direction, he leaned over and kissed her. "I hate to break it to you sweetheart, but I have too much damn money and if I can spend some of it on you, then I'm too happy to do so. Besides, you better get used to it, especially since you will be Mrs. Louis Tomlinson." "And so it begins." Gia grinned kissing him. "Now I believe you promised me a lock." Bringing out a lime green lock from his pocket, he placed it in her open palm. The side was engraved with their initials and today's date. Smiling, Gia locked it amongst a cluster of gold locks, theirs sticking out like a sore thumb. Pulling her phone from her clutch, she quickly took a photo of the lock before turning the phone on the two of them. "Since I'm sure our friends and family are waiting for news, let's tell them." He took the photo from her, she held up her left hand, both of them smiling for the camera. Snapping the photo, it was quickly sent off to their friends and family. "So has this been the best night of your life?" Damn Gia was caught. "Yes it was but you're forgetting one thing." "What's that?" Louis ask enjoying the fact he won their challenge. Gia smirked. "I love football just like you so it's not going to be a downer day like you planned." "I know I figured it would be a day where we could just have fun and we both loved football so it's a win for us both." Louis grinned Shaking her head, Gia smiled. "Damn you're amazing. You won by a landslide." "I know. I love you Damsel, have I told you that lately?" Louis pulled her closer to him capturing her lips in a kiss. Shaking her head, she snaked her arms around his neck. "Nope but guess what? I love you too Popstar." "So now what Damsel?" Titling her head to the side, Gia looked at him. "Thought you'd have everything planned out. All out of ideas?" "I got my plans out of the way. Now it's up to you financée to figure what we are going to do." Louis grinned in his financée's direction. Financée was such a foreign word but he loved the way it rolled off his tongue. Her eyes went wide, a grin stretched wide across her lips. "Ohhhh I love you calling me that." "Financée, financée, financée .... I will continue to call you that until you get two new name." He brushed his lips across hers. Pecking his lips with hers, she smirked. "And what will that be?" "Wife and Mrs. Giovanna Maria Tomlinson." Her eyes sparkled with the thought a chuckle escaping seeing her so excited. "I love those names!" "So when do you want to get married?" Placing a hand on his chest, Gia shook her head. "We've been engaged for 20 minutes and you wanna talk wedding? Who are you and what have you done with my fiancé?" "I was just asking." Louis defended. Shaking her head, Gia shrugged. "Haven't given it much thought. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you asked me to be your wife much less that we have a wedding to plan. But do you know what I really want?" "What?" Gia kissed him. "Gelato .... I believe you promised me some earlier. And then I've got the rest of the evening planned." "What are we doing after gelato?" She hummed, lacing their fingers together pulling him off the bridge. "You know they say the one you kiss at the strike of midnight is the one you'll be kissing the entire year? Well I'm planning on kissing you for a hell of a lot longer than that." "Have I told you how much I love your plans?" Gia thought for a moment before shaking her head. "Nope but remember that when I'm roping you into wedding plans!" He laughed tugging her closer to him. The kiss the two would share at midnight definitely was the first the two would share for the rest of their lives. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- May 18, 2019 The day had finally arrived. The day, they had been planning for the last five months. After their engagement, the two realized they didn't want to wait due to the packed year ahead. She took a deep breath, relaxing in the calm before the storm. Gia knew it was early but with the ceremony at noon, she would have to leave the comfort of the warm bed to become Mrs. Tomlinson soon. "So we have to pick a venue." Taking a sip of his tea, Louis looked at his fiancée, a smirk present on his face. Raising an eyebrow, Gia nodded. "That we do. Where do you want to exchange vows? Doncaster, London, Leeds?" "None of those. Everyone's expecting one of those three places. I want somewhere unique." Flipping through one of the many bridal magazines, something he thought he'd never do, yet here he was, Louis huffed not liking what he found. He had surprised Gia with how involved he got in the planning of their nuptials. "Like a football pitch or the base? Or what about the zoo? No I got it .... The penitentiary would be an amazing wedding venue!" "You might be onto something." One thing Louis loved about Gia was her sarcasm. Rolling her eyes, Gia looked at him with dread in her eyes. "We are not getting married in a penitentiary. I am tolerable with a lot but I put my foot down at penitentiary." "No not the penitentiary or even the zoo." He paused. "What about a football pitch?" Her eyes went wide shaking her head. "I was joking!" "Think about it! If we aren't here or our parents or on the road, where are we?" Louis asked. She smirked. "I never saw us getting married in a grocery store though I'm sure Niall would love it if we did." "Giovanna think about it. How cool would it be to exchange vows on a pitch?" Louis' eyes went wide, excited at the thought. "You really want to get married on a football pitch?" He nodded. "It's perfect. We can control everything. We can do things our way and you get your perfect wedding. Besides I haven't asked for much for this wedding but this would be sick. Some of the best aspects of our relationship have been on a pitch." She knew he had a point. She had always seen her wedding taken place in a church, the norm. But when had her relationship with Louis ever been normal? "All right .... Let's do this. You get your wish; we'll get married on a pitch." "Gia, Giovanna?" Coming out the memory, Gia smiled seeing her mum standing in front of the bed smiling. "You ok?" Nodding Gia patted the space beside her. "Yea just thinking about the last few months." "All that planning is going to pay off. You'll have your bright sunny day to go along with all the bright yellow in the wedding." Her mum smiled. "Have I told you how incredibly proud of you I am?" Blushing, Gia's eyes fell to the bed spread. "Thanks." "No really. You have been handling everything along with the constant media attention." Rose patted her daughter's hand. "You are going to make a fabulous wife and eventually a mother." Taking a deep breath, Gia nodded. "What if I don't? Everyone keeps telling me that I'll be wonderful and amazing but what if I fail?" "How long have you been worried about this?" Rose asked keeping her tone quiet. Shrugging, Gia looked at her mum with a staggered breath. "Just the past few days. Lou and I have so much going against us with the media and his career." "But you have a lot going for you as well. The love that boy has for you and you him will help you. Marriage isn't a walk in the park; you both will have to work to get your marriage where it works for you both." Rose paused. "And yes he has a hell of a year coming up but you two will make it because you two are both fighters and will fight for what's important to you. And you both are too important to one another to not fight." Gia mulled over her mum's words. "Have you talked to Louis about this?" "No." Rose nodded. "At some point you're going to need to. He's going to be there for you and a little birdy told me he's just as nervous to be your husband." "What?" Gia's eyes went wide. Hugging her daughter, Rose smiled. "Louis is really nervous to be a husband for you. He and Jay had a long talk about it last night. Call him and talk to him; don't take too long but you both need to talk before you walk down the aisle." Watching her mum leave the room, Gia picked up her mobile, dialing a very familiar number. "Hello?" "Hi. How are you?" He exhaled on the other end before a smile overtook his face. "Nervous. You?" "Freaking out." His heart skipped a beat at her words. "About backing out?" "No no no. Absolutely not. I'm confident about marrying you." She sighed. "What if I can't be the wife you need me to be?" Louis smiled sadly, wishing he could hug her. "Awww Damsel you will be the best wife I could ever ask for." "That's what everyone tells me but what if?" She felt the tears prickling at her eyelashes. He cooed, wishing he could help her out more. "Hey listen to me Giovanna, you have been the best girlfriend I could've ever asked for. Nothing is changing from our relationship except you'll be a Tomlinson instead of a Canalanotte. We will still be living together and make decisions jointly." "Ok." Louis smiled. "Hey Gia I just need you to talk to me. I can't help if you don't let me know when something is bothering you." "I'm just freaking out but I'll be better once I'm by your side." She realized that she could do anything as long as her Popstar was by her side. He nodded knowing full well she couldn't see him. "You ok Soldier?" "I am now. Thanks for talking to me, Pooks." Louis laughed. "Anytime Italia. Now go get prettied and I'll be the one in the center waiting for you. I love you." "Love you too Popstar. See you in a few hours." Dropping the phone on the bed, Gia took a deep breath pushing herself out of bed. She took a moment to change into the matching sweatpants and zipped jacket she had gotten for the bridal party. Heading to the main area of the suite, she grinned hearing the excited chatter. "There she is, soon-to-be Mrs Tomlinson." "Better?" Rose asked giving her daughter a look. Nodding with a big smile on her face, Gia turned to her mum. "Much better. Thank you." They started with a light breakfast before moving onto hair and makeup. Lou Teasdale was helping out along with a couple of her helpers. "Nervous?" "No. More anxious than anything." Gia sighed. "Is it normal to feel like this?" Perrie laughed. "Yes it is. All the butterflies and nerves will float away as soon as you see him." "This is what you've been waiting for. You're ready to be Mrs. Tomlinson." Tricia grinned looking at her best friend. Take a few deep breaths, Gia willed her heart from jumping out of her chest. "I just want the ceremony to be over!" "Chill girl. You still have four hours!" The girls laughed, causing a calm to fall within the room. "What was Louis up to when you called him?" "He didn't say. We just chatted for a few minutes." The smile was impossible to wipe off her face as makeup was put on. She heard the shutter of a camera snap as she looked at the girls around the room. "If I haven't said it enough, thank you for being here on our special day. You girls have been the most amazing people ever and I'm so thankful you are all in my life." Tears were in everyone's eyes as Lou tisked. "There's no time for tears. It's a happy day not an emotional one." Two hours later, makeup and hair was complete and the girls were lounging around the room when a knock sounded. "Come in." "I kinda can't." Gia grinned brightly hearing Louis' voice. "What are you doing here?" "I brought you something. And wanted to give it to you myself." He said shuffling outside the door. Rushing to her bag, she grabbed his present, before cracking open the door and giving him his while he gave her the box that housed hers. "I love you Soldier and I'll see you at the end of the aisle." "Love you too Pooks." Gripping his hand, she felt him kiss her hand before squeezing it. Sitting on the overstuffed green chair in the room, Gia placed the box on her lap. Slipping the thick black ribbon off the box, she gently lifted the lid. There was a letter and two boxes sitting in the yellow and gray tissue paper. Saving the letter, she picked up first box and opened it, a small gasped escaping her mouth. It was a photo of Louis down on one knee and her with her hands on her mouth - the exact moment she said yes to marrying him. "What did he give you?" Tricia asked. Gia turning the photo to face the girls. "He got someone to photograph our engagement." She passed the photo to her mum who oohed and awed over the photo. Picking up the next box, she took a deep breath, thankful to the man she was marrying for calming her nerves. Opening the lid, she grinned immediately knowing what was laying in front of her. It was Louis' journal. The one he took everywhere and wrote in it almost every night. She had asked what he was writing about but he would never give her a straight answer. "Louis' journal?" Scarlett asked smiling at Gia. Nodding, Gia looked at the four girls in front of her. "How did you know?" "Every wedding, the bride has received a journal from her husband to be. Zayn started it when he married Perrie and ever since, all the boys have followed suit." Danielle explained being the latest to marry. Putting it back into the box, Gia couldn't wait to read it. Picking up the envelope, she slid her finger under the flap, pulling out a piece of green lined paper. Damsel, Here we are. A couple of hours from becoming husband and wife. I am excited because you'll officially be my wife but also we can start our lives together. The past 19 months have been incredible and amazing due to you being by my side. You have been the sunshine in my life and I'm so incredibly thankful I "saved" you from the bar that night. Through all the nicknames, kidnapping, dates in the parks, times apart, we have slowly become best friends and fallen in love. I love you to the moon and back, Giovanna. Now finish getting ready because soon you'll be walking towards me as we vow to love each other forever and always. All my love, Louis P.S. - I saw this quote and thought of you. "This day I marry my best friend, the one I laugh with, live for, dream with, love." - unknown. I'll be the goofy guy at the end of the aisle. There were some tears that had escaped as she folded up the letter. "Good letter?" "Obviously he knows how to make me cry!" Shaking her head, Gia looked at Rose. Lou grabbed her makeup palate and went to work fixing Gia with a bright smile. "That's a good man right there honey. Don't lose him." "What did you get him?" Packing everything up, Gia looked at Perrie. "A new watch and a letter." Once her makeup was finished, Gia grabbed boxes from her bag smiling at the women in front of her. "So I know you've gotten your bridesmaids gifts from me but Louis and I got you something in addition." Gia had gotten each of the bridesmaids a pearl necklace with a charm with their first name initial on it. Handling them a pale blue box, she smiled hearing the gasps. Her and Lou had taken a weekend trip up to Kent where she found the small pearl earrings each of the girls held in their hands. Thank Yous and hugs were exchanged as Gia smiled. Looking at the two littlest girls in the room, she crouched down. "Poppy, Mollie?" "Yes?" The two girls looked up with giant smiles on their faces. Gia took two of the boxes, handing one to each of the girls. "Thank you for being a part of mine and Louis' wedding. I love you both." Tricia and Perrie helped their daughters open the boxes before gasps were heard from each of the girls. "Tank you!" Each girl received a silver bracelet with a knot tied in it. Gia watched Tricia put Mollie's on her before getting a hug from the excited girl. "Tank you auntie Gia." Poppy soon joined their hug with her own hug and "tank you" while the photographer quickly snapped photos. "Mumma." Gia turned to her mother with a smile. "You have been the biggest force in my life and snapped me back into place when I've gotten out of hand. I'm so thankful you are my Mumma and with me today. I will always be your little girl and one day, I hope I can be half the mother you are to me." Giving her a hug, she presented her mum with a pale blue box like the others. Cracking open the box, Rose gasped at the necklace that laid inside. It was a pearl necklace with one different color pearl. "It's got a pearl from my necklace so you always have a little piece of me with you" "I love you Giovanna and am so proud to be your Mumma." Rose hugged her daughter tightly. Pulling back, Gia looked at Ava. "Avie, you have been the best little sister I could have ever asked for. You have always been by my side and I'm so excited you're here today. I love you." Handing her a pink box, Gia smirked watching her sister open it. Ava's eyes jerked up to Gia as her mouth dropped open. Inside was an infinity necklace with a pearl in the middle. "This is too much Gia." "No it's not. You have put up with me for the past 26 years. No matter what we'll always be sisters." She promised giving her a sister a hug. Stepping back, Gia smiled at the women around her. "Thank you ladies." "How about we get you in that beautiful dress of yours?" Lou asked looking over at Gia's wide eyes. Up until that point, it didn't feel like her wedding day but now that she was putting on the dress, everything felt right and in place. Standing with her hands on Tricia's shoulders, who was giving her funny looks, Gia stepped into the dress while Rose and Lou zipped it up before buttoning the back. "There perfect!" Smoothing down the front, Gia turned, smiling brightly seeing herself in the mirror. "You give all the brides in the world a run for their money, Gia." "Oh your Popstar won't know what to do with himself when he sees you." Danielle said as the girls laughed. "Auntie Gia you look booutiful." Mollie grinned twirling around in her flower girl dress. "Booti." Poppy grinned toothless trying to spin like Mollie but falling over laughing. "Let's get you married; but first, do you have something old, new, borrowed and blue?" Ava asked grinning. Nodding Gia smiled. "I've got the stitching in my dress." Since the colors were yellow and gray, Gia had "Mrs. Giovanna Tomlinson" stitched in blue underneath her dress. "Old is mum's pearl earrings, new is my dress and borrowed is .... I don't have something borrowed." Gia looked around the room and panicked a bit before a knocked sounded at the door. Rose pulled it opening smiling at whoever was standing there. Looking up, Gia smiled weakly at her soon-to-be mother-in-law. "You look gorgeous Gia." "Thank you." Her mind was preoccupied by the borrowed item she failed to see Jay come closer. Hugging her daughter-in-law close, Jay smiled. "What's wrong?" "I completely forgot about something borrowed." Gia said quietly as Jay chuckled. Handing her a box, Jay nodded for her to open it. "I guess it's a good thing I bought these along huh?" Opening the box, Gia's eyes went wide seeing the silver hair clips nestled in a pool of blue velvet. "Jay." "These were Louis' nana's and I would be honored if you wore them today." Jay smiled taking in her son's future wife. "Louis isn't going to know what to do when he sees you." Squeezing Jay's hand, Gia smiled. "Thank you for everything. I have something for you." Walking to her bag, she grabbed the last box, handing it over to Jay. Gia bit her lip watching her future mother-in-law open the box. "Gia!" Nestled inside was a necklace with a charm "thank you for raising the man of my dreams" engraved on it. "You have done an amazing job raising Louis into the man of my dreams. Thank you for your support in the past and in the future as we step into married life." A quick hug was shared between the women before a knock was heard. The door slowly opened revealing her father standing there with a bright smile on his face. "Ready princess?" Grinning at her father, Gia nodded. Everyone flowed out of the room heading towards the pitch where the wedding would take place. Gripping her dad's arm, Gia slowly walked beside Tony taking deep, calming breaths. Rose handed out the bright yellow bouquets, giving her daughter hers along with a mothering look. "You ok? We can still make a run for it!" "Daddy! No we will not be making a run for it." She couldn't wipe the smile off her face, she was simply too happy. Tony looked at his little girl. "As long as he makes you happy, Gia I'm ecstatic for you. He's a good man and I couldn't pick a better guy for you." "Thanks daddy." Standing in the home team's hallway waiting to walk out to the pitch, Gia smiled seeing how the decorations turned out. Their guests were seated in a square with Gia and Louis meeting in the middle. One hundred and fifty of their closest friends had gathered at the stadium to watch the two exchange vows. She switched to watching each of her bridesmaids walk down the aisle. Soon the two giggling girls walked up the aisle, throwing various yellow flower petals in their wake. "Ready for this?" "Yes. Don't let me trip." Tony chuckled. "Never baby girl, never." The two stepped out into the sunshine, walking slowly towards where her groom stood. The walk felt like hours instead of the minute it took. She swore she would never forget the giant smile that took over Louis' face when he finally saw her. Little did she know, Louis would never forget the vision of gorgeous white that made up Gia as she walked closer to him. Their minister cleared his throat before speaking. "Good afternoon and welcome. Louis and Gia are so glad to have you here on this beautiful spring day-before we begin I'd like to ask you all to make sure your cell phones, beepers, handheld gaming devices, and iPads are all on silent." A rippled laughter rang through the crowd causing Louis and Gia to smile. "Who gives this woman to this man?" "Her mother and I do." Tony said squeezing Gia's hand before shaking Louis' as the two joined hands. The two turned to the minister, hands linked, Louis squeezing Gia's in happiness. "Love is a miraculous gift, and a wedding is a celebration of that magic, and that is why we are here today. We are gathered together to be overjoyed for, and with, Louis and Gia, who are so wonderfully suited to one another that it is a pure delight for the rest of us to see how happy two people can be. They are the example of the love that in its light-heartedness dissolves the notion of love as hard work. They are the promise of possibility, the expectation of joyful surprise. We are here to celebrate, witness, honor, dance, laugh, sing, eat, and be glad because these two kids have found their beshert." "Bless them now with your joyful abundant radiance, so that the words they say, the feelings that beautifully transform them in these moments, and the dreams that they dare to dream can be lived out in their marriage." The minister smiled at the two as the two couldn't keep their eyes off one another. Gia just wished he would hurry up and let them exchange vows. She took a minute letting her eyes run over her groom. He was dressed in dark gray pants, a crisp white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows; a grey vest and a yellow tie to finish the look. He had a yellow Ranunculus boutonnière attached to the left side of his vest. His hair was jelled just how she loved it and his smile was that of pure happiness. Louis took a moment to look at his bride. Her white dress was perfect, everything she said her dream dress would be. Her hair was pined back, allowing her gorgeous face to be shown. Her eyes were bright and tears were in the lashes waiting to be let loose. He caught her eye and mouthed "I Love You" caused her to mouth it back. Snapping back to the minister, the two looked like they were just caught with their hands in the cookie jar. "Marriage is a special place, the sheltered environment in which we can endlessly explore ourselves in the presence of another and in which we can offer the possibility of true reflection of another." Gia shifted, her feet killing her in the heels that she was not used to. She made a note to herself to lose them after the ceremony. Louis squeezed her hand, stopping the fidgeting. The minister continued his speech. "Marriage is the incubator of love, the protected environment in which a love that is personal and touching and real can grow and, as a consequence of that growth, develop in us our highest capabilities as loving human beings. We are each still and always growing, and when we marry, we promise not only our own growth, but also our willingness to witness and withstand the ongoing growth of another human being. That is because in marrying we promise to love not only as we feel right now, but also as we intend to feel. In marriage we say not only, "I love you today," but also, "I promise to love you tomorrow, the next day, and always." This was the part Gia was waiting for. "Gia and Louis, I remind you that marriage is a precious gift, a lifelong dedication to love and a daily challenge to love one another more fully and more freely. Turn to one another and grip each other's hands." Giving Ava her bouquet, Gia turned grinning brightly at Louis. "Do you, Giovanna Maria, take Louis William, to be your lawfully wedded husband, your constant friend, your faithful partner and your love from this day forward? In the presence of God, your family and friends, do you offer him your solemn vow to be your faithful partner in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, and in joy as well as in sorrow? Do you promise to love him unconditionally, to support him in his goals, to honor and respect him, to laugh with him and cry with him, and to cherish him for as long as you both shall live?" "I do." Squeezing his hand, she laughed a little at the look he gave her as tears rolled down her face. Louis reached up and wiped them away, drawing an awe from the crowd. The minister turned to Louis. "Do you, Louis William, take Giovanna Maria, to be your lawfully wedded wife, your constant friend, your faithful partner and your love from this day forward? In the presence of God, your family and friends, do you offer her your solemn vow to be your faithful partner in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, and in joy as well as in sorrow? Do you promise to love her unconditionally, to support her in her goals, to honor and respect her, to laugh with her and cry with her, and to cherish her for as long as you both shall live?" Nodding, Louis gripped her hands in his. "I do." "May I have the rings." Harry handed the rings to the minister, smiling cheekily at the bride and groom. "Louis and Gia's rings are an external and visible sign of the internal and spiritual bond of love which unites their two hearts. May they serve as a seal of the vows Louis and Gia have made to one another. Bless these rings, symbols of eternity, beauty and strength. Bless the couple who give them and wear them-may they ever live in harmony, unity, love, and happiness from this day forward." Giving Louis' ring to Gia, the minister smiled. "Gia repeat after me, 'with this ring, I thee wed'" "With this ring, I thee wed." Gia's shaky voice sounded as another tear escaped her eyes. Her hands shook as she slid Louis' ring on his finger. Giving Gia's ring to Louis, the minister spoke. "Louis repeat after me, 'with this ring, I thee wed'" "With this ring, I thee wed." Louis said sliding the ring on her left ring finger. "Louis and Gia, by the power invested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may now kiss your bride!" Louis did not hesitate to pull Gia into his arms and kiss her. They heard the hoots and hollers of their friends and family as Louis pulled back. "It is my honor to present to your for the very first time, Louis and Gia Tomlinson." Claps and celebrations were heard as the two walked back down the aisle heading towards the hallway Gia stood in a mere twenty minutes prior. "Hi husband." "Hi wife." He kissed her, soon interrupted by their bridal party. Harry stepped forward, looking at the couple. "Save it for the honeymoon lovebirds." "Leave them alone!" Tricia hit Harry on the arm. "Give them a few minutes to bask in the feeling of being married." Scoffing from beside her, Niall chuckled. "Look who swallowed a dictionary this morning." "Shut it you." Tricia smirked watching the happy, newly married couple. Poppy and Mollie came rushing into the area giggling and spinning in their dresses. "Auntie Gia! Uncle Lewie!" "Yes babes?" Crouching down, Gia grinned at the two girls. Mollie leaned closer, whispering in her ear. "Is Uncle Lewie your 'usband?" "Yes he is. You ok with that?" Looking up at Louis' grin, Gia knew he heard Mollie's question. She giggled tugging on Louis' hand, pulling him to her height. "Yup! Are you gonna have babies?" "Eventually. Why do you want us to have babies?" Mollie nodded. "You'd have cute babies. When do we dance?" "We've got to take some photos then we'll dance and have cake!" Louis staged whispered to her. "Will you save me a dance, Mollie Anne?" She took his hand and started twirling, giggling loudly. "Uh huh!" "What now wife?" "Photos for a bit, then we dance the afternoon and night away." The reception would be held up in the banquet room. Everyone not getting photos taken would be dismissed to the room for drinks and appetizers. The next 45 minutes the photographer posed them in various shots. Soon everyone left, leaving Gia and Louis for their individual photos. True to her thoughts, Gia kicked off her heels as the two walked on the pitch while the cameras snapped behind them. "You're going to have green feet, Italia." "It's better than those dreadful heels. Damn Tricia and her wedding etiquette." Gia rolled her eyes, looping her arms around Louis neck. "If it was up to me, I'd have married you barefoot." He placed a kiss on her forehead. "Next wedding then." "Um no. I'm never, ever getting married again. Once was enough, sorry Popstar." Gia giggled as he nestled his face in her shoulder. Turning to the photographer, Gia smiled. "We are ready when you are." "You two were naturals! I got all the photos I wanted." Izzy, their photographer smiled. "You two gave me more than enough to work for. Now go be happy and dance the night away." The two walked back to the hallway, stopping to pick up her shoes along the way. Refusing to put them on, Louis ducked down, allowing her to jump on his back. Her giggles echoed in the hallway as he walked towards the banquet room. They were introduced, walking into the room full of claps and yells from friends and family. Sitting at the main table, the clanking of glasses soon followed, demanding a kiss from the newly married couple. Louis was too happy to obligate, leaning over and planting a gentle kiss on Gia's lips. Dinner was soon served, pasta for Gia, steak for Louis. Gia chatted happily with her bridesmaids to her right while Louis, in between bites, laughed with his groomsmen. Soon it was time for dances. Louis had taken over picking their first dance song. Gia had wanted to be surprised and gladly handed the reigns over to him. "If Gia could join Louis on the dance floor, the two will have their first dance." The DJ's voice floated around the room. Walking out onto the floor, Gia grinned brightly in her husband's direction. He pulled her to him, their hands linked. "So what song did you pick?" He smiled hearing the opening chords and loved the surprise look on her face when she regonized "Your Song" by Ellie Goulding. "Perfect choice." "I figured as much when you got really excited as it played on the radio." Louis smirked. "Besides Ellie just happens to be your girl crush." Burying her face in his shoulder, Gia willed the blush to go away. "Not appropriate dance floor conversation." "Ok then how about how many kids you want?" Louis dipped Gia, causing their audience to clap. Shaking her head, Gia giggled. "We are the worse couple ever. This probably should have been a conversation before the wedding." "Not necessary, we both knew we wanted kids. The amount just came later." Louis caught her lips in a kiss as the chorus played. Stealing a kiss, she smirked as he deepened their embrace. "I think I want two or three kids." "Why not eight? We can one up my mum!" Widening her eyes at his enthusiasm, Gia gasped. "You wanna find yourself divorce before the wedding night? We are not having eight kids! Especially since I've got to do all the work." "Ok ok. We can have two or three." Louis relented not wanting to push his new wife too much. Gia smirked. "I love you." "Love you too." The song ended as applause and cheers for the couple erupted. Soon after Gia found herself back on the dance floor as father/daughter danced to "I Just Called To Say I Love You" by Stevie Wonder followed by mother/son danced to "In My Life" by The Beatles. Jay had tears in her eyes the entire time she danced with her baby boy. Gia danced with each of her brothers and "new" brothers in each of the boys while Louis danced with his sisters and Ava. They laughed, drank too much and danced the night away. Taking a moment to grab a glass of water, Gia stood off to the side watching Louis dance with Mollie, the younger of the two giggling loudly. "How are you holding up?" "Good. Trying to catch my breath and cool down some. Enjoying yourself?" Gia smiled at Tricia brightly. Motioning to Mollie in Louis' arms, Tricia laughed. "I haven't seen my daughter all night. Niall and I have had some dances together and managed to catch up with everyone. How are you doing?" "Is it bad that I just want to leave and have my way with my new husband?" Gia smirked. "I'm honestly just excited for two weeks of being on our own and away from London." Tricia laughed. "Enjoy it because as soon as they get back he'll jump into rehearsals and promotions for the tour. What did you two talk about on the dance floor?" "He wanted to have the kid talk. Wanted to know how many kids I wanted." Tricia gave her friend a look. "You didn't do that beforehand?" "Nope. We knew we both wanted kids." Gia smiled. "He's always been great with children so it wasn't a discussion of if but when and how many. We decided two or three and we'll go from there." Tricia laughed watching Niall and Liam walking towards them. "You are being paged to the stage." Liam took Gia's hand while Niall grabbed Tricia's. "This wasn't part of the program." "Shhh it's a surprise. Just go with it." Liam hushed her. There were a chair sitting in the middle of the dance floor. "Is everyone having a great time tonight?" Everyone cheered as Louis grinned from behind the microphone. "So I wanted to do something special for Gia and these boys were only too happy to help. So Gia this song is for you; your love of boy bands is one of the many things I absolutely love about you. But I think One Direction just became your favorite due to the most gorgeous member being your new husband." Gia giggled as the rest of the boys grumbled from behind him. "Hush you lot. This is for Gia." The music for "This I Promise You" by NSYNC started and the tears instantly clouded Gia's eyes. She wiped her tears, watching Louis pour all his passion into one of her favorite songs. The boys jumped down from the stage, each going to their lady and pulling them into their arms. Louis wiped Gia's escaped tears as he sang. He locked his eyes on hers and stared into her soul all while belting out the powerful lyrics. Harry finished off the sound with sounds off cheers surrounded them. Gia pulled Louis into a kiss. "You just earned yourself a butt load of brownie points Popstar." "Knew you would love it." He murmured kissing her again. Raising her eyes to meet his, she smiled. "And how long have you been planning that?" "Uh like a month. I wanted to do something as a surprise for you. Harry suggested I sing you something and it kinda went from there. I knew it had to be a NSYNC song because I'm pretty sure you love Justin way more than me." Louis smirked. Gia stood on her tip toes and leaned close to his ear. "You just blew Justin out of the water Pooks." Walking away from Louis, Gia giggled at how she left him in a trance. She headed towards her family catching up with her brothers and sisters-in-laws. The DJ announced the cutting of the cake as everyone crowded around. Gia locked eyes with Louis and pointed her index finger in his direction. "Louis William, do not get any of that cake anywhere than my mouth, got it Pooks?" "What happens if I do?" Gia smirked leaning closer to his ear. "Then I guess your hand will be put to work, especially since you won't be touching me on our wedding night." "You're not serious are you?" Louis' eyes widened not particular wanting to test her. Walking towards their three layer cake, Gia looked behind her. "Try me." They took the traditional photos with both of their hands on the knife as they sliced through the cake. Not wanting to cross Gia, Louis made sure the cake touched nothing but the inside of her mouth. Gia, however, had other plans and managed to smash the cake in his face. He was shocked, pulling her close, kissing her managing to get cake all over her. "But you said ..." Louis stuttered causing their guests to laugh. Shrugging Gia wiped some frosting off his check. "I didn't say anything about me. Only you couldn't do it." "But uh uh uh." Louis shook his head. Tony laughed. "She is just like her mother. Better to learn that now than much further down the road." Louis hung his head in defeat causing Gia to laugh loudly. An hour later, after the His or Her Shoe game, Gia and the rest of the girls were pulled back onto the dance floor. This time there were five chairs lined up on the dance floor, each girl occupying a chair with their significant other standing directly in front of them. "So this is the one of the last songs of the night and the boys and I wanted to do something special for our five ladies. As you may or may not know, we are heading out on tour in a couple of weeks, leaving these lovely ladies behind. But hopefully this song will give them something to hold onto." Each boy stepped forward, grasping their wife or girlfriend's hand as the music started. "Home" by Michael Buble was sung by their five favorite men. Tears were in all the girls' eyes as they watched their other half sing. This song held special meaning for all five boys as well as girls. It was often the song sung when the girls cried on the phone and the long nights away from each other. Louis finished the song as the girls each hugged and kissed their men. The DJ kicked the music back up, ironically playing an One Direction song that cause the five to groan. "Come dance." "But babe!" Louis tried dodging it. "It's awkward." Gia crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "You're going to deny your wife a dance just because it's weird?" He pulled her into his arms and sang the song quietly in her ear as they twirled around the dance floor. They swayed to "Moments" as the dance floor was crowded with other couples. Once the song was over and goodbyes were said, the two were showered with bubbles as they ran to the limo that would take them back to their hotel. "Good night Mrs Tomlinson?" Gia grinned at her name. "One of the best Mr Tomlinson." "It can only get better from here." He grinned leaning in for a kiss. And indeed it got better after he carried her over the threshold of their master suite. A beautiful start to their lives as Mr and Mrs Tomlinson. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- August 3, 2019 Six weeks after they said "I Do" Louis was ramped up for rehearsals and promotions for the tour. Two weeks after that, he hopped on a tour bus and left Gia at home. And now three weeks after seeing her husband, she missed him, plain and simple. Yes they talked on the phone and skyped but that was completely different from being by his side, his hands in hers, and his hugs, god she missed his hugs. Super secret conversations were had and plans made, a little white lie was told before she found herself on a plane to Madrid. Scarlett, Tricia and Mollie were all on tour; Tricia being the band's photographer and Scarlett being part of their wardrobe crew. Both women tried to convince Gia to come out on the road but she had to finish up some last minute things before agreeing. Arriving in humid Madrid, Gia smiled the first real smile she had in awhile. The prospect of seeing her husband for the first time in three weeks was simple too much for Gia to handle right now. "Well hello stranger!" Tricia smiled, watching Gia's hand fly to her chest in fright. "Welcome to the tour." Gia threw her arms around her best friend grinning brightly. "Oh my gosh it's so good to see you. I've missed you." "You as well. Finally threw responsibility away and came to play with us." Tricia grabbed one of her suitcases, leaving the other and her carry-on with Gia. Shrugging, Gia followed Tricia behind her. "Something like that." "Does Louis know you're coming?" Shaking her head, Gia's grin was too much. "Nope. Planning on surprising him." Throwing the suitcases in the boot, Gia and Tricia climbed in the backseat with Paul driving. "Oh no here's trouble!" "Hey you should be excited I'm here. I'm going to keep Louis in line." Gia defended causing the older man to chuckle. He nodded. "He's been a little out of hand lately." "He's like a kid in a candy shop while on tour." Tricia spoke, Gia quickly agreeing. Watching the city pass, Gia took a deep breath. "What are the boys up to? And where's Mollie?" "They have a day off. Louis was talking about sleeping the day away." Tricia smiled. "Niall and Harry took her to the zoo." Paul looked at the girls. "So what's the plan for surprising Louis?" "Not sure. Thinking about winging it." He chuckled. "That's not going to end well." "Hey! I will be on my best behavior." Gia grinned. "Though I can't promise the same for Lou." Reaching in her bag, she grabbed her mobile, turning it on. The car grew quiet each lost in their thoughts. Her mobile buzzed and vibrated in her hand. "Lou's blowing up your phone?" "Yea he's worried. Jay texted that he called her worried - she told him I had a spa day and I had to turn off my mobile." Gia smirked. "Love my mother-in-law." Tricia laughed. "That's classic. I'll have to remember that one for future use." Pulling up to the hotel, Paul escorted them in promising Gia to get her bags to her. Tricia said her goodbyes, leaving Gia in the lobby. Sitting in a comfy chair, Gia tried to figure out how she was going to let Louis know she was there. Her mobile rang interrupting her thoughts. "Hello?" Louis chuckled on the other end. "Well hello there. Are you nice and relaxed from your spa day?" "Yes I am. Sorry it slipped my mind to tell you." Twirling a piece of hair in her finger, Gia grinned. "What are you up to today?" She heard him sigh. "Not sure. Niall and Harry took the Mollie to the zoo while everyone else is just hanging out. Who knows what Liam's up to - maybe him and I will do lunch or something. What are you up to?" "Socks and I are hanging out in the garden. He's trying to hunt the birds while I'm catching up on some reading, missing you of course." Gia laughed. He groaned. "I know baby. I miss you too. Two more weeks and I'll be back in London seeing your pretty face." "Way too long Tomlinson." She scolded him lightly. "We need to have a limit from now on." He laughed. "What? Two days?" "If I'd have my way that's what it'll be." She giggled. "Hey someone's at the door. Let me let you go and I'll call you later. I love you." He sighed. "Love you too. Give Socks a kiss for me. Talk to you later. Love you lots Damsel." Hanging up the phone, she smiled at the young fans across the lobby. Two girls cautiously came closer both excited. "Are you Gia?" "I am. What are your names?" The older of the two grinned brightly. "I'm Kennedy and I'm 8 and this is my sister Becca and she's 4. You're pretty." "Thank you so are you girls. Do you want a picture?" Gia crouched down smiling as the girls' mother came closer. "I'm sorry if they're bothering you." The young woman smiled at Gia while she shook her head. Gia smiled. "No they're not bothering. I'll take a picture with them if they want." "Yes!" Kennedy jumped a bit causing Gia to laugh. Kneeling between the two girls, Gia smiled as their mother snapped the photo. "The only thing I ask is that you wait to post that until later tonight. I'm surprising Louis and he doesn't know I'm here yet." "That's so romantic." The mother gushed, Gia grinning brightly. She talked with the girls and their mum for a few more minutes before heading to the elevators. Sending a text to Tricia asking for Louis' room number, she pressed the 15th floor once inside. Tapping her foot lightly, she took the last few minutes to herself. She was a little nervous to see Louis and actually be with him for more than a few hours. Stopping in front of his door, she took a deep breath. But before she could knock, a door to her left was opened as Scarlett walked into the hallway. She shushed her before she could spoil the surprise. "What are you doing here?" Scarlett hugged her tightly. Gia chuckled at her friend. "Surprising my miserable husband." "When did you get in?" Looking at her mobile, she shrugged. "Like an hour ago. I've been in cahoots with Tricia and Paul." "Nice. Will you and Lou be at dinner?" Scarlett asked raising her eyebrows suggestively. "Go surprise our boy. We'll see you later." Scarlett walked away leaving Gia standing at Louis' door. Raising her hand, she knocked hearing Louis grumble about having to get up. "Tricia your husband isn't here. Liam, if this is you I'm gonna - " Gia grinned as he ripped open the door. "You're gonna what?" "Gia!" She was pulled into his arms, the door slamming behind them. "What are you doing here?" His question went unanswered as she placed her lips on his. They had a nice little make out session until a knock on the door interrupted them. "What?" "Open up Tomlinson I come bearing gifts." Paul yelled pounding on the door. Sighing, Louis opened the door allowing Paul to drop Gia's luggage off. "I see you received your surprise." "I did. Did you have a hand in her surprising me?" Louis brightened up a bit. Paul shook his head. "Nope she was in cahoots with Tricia who told me we had to go to the airport today, said a surprise was being delivered." "Thank you for bringing that up here." Gia grinned motioning to the suitcases. Paul grinned. "Not a problem. If you two go out, let me know. Dinner is at 6 tonight." "Sounds good. I think we might hang out here but we'll see you later for dinner." Louis said, Paul saying his goodbyes leaving the two alone. Louis faced his wife with a grin. "Not that I'm not thrilled you're here but what happened to the packed schedule you had at the base?" "Well .... That was a little white lie." Gia bit on her lip with a smile. Louis cocked a brow. "What aren't you telling me?" Gia went to sit on the bed, patting the space beside her. "Come sit before I tell you." "Uh oh this can't be good." Louis took her hand in his. "What's wrong? What happened?" Gia took a deep breath. "As of yesterday, I'm unemployed. I resigned my position at the base completely." "What? Why? You loved your job and the last thing I ever wanted was for you to give it up." Louis' eyes went wide. "Gia you didn't have to give up everything you've worked for." Gia stood, walking to her suitcase to retrieve a box. "Well my duties were going to change significantly because of some news I received so I decided just to resign while I was ahead of everything." "What news?" Louis started panicking with how calm she was acting. "You're freaking me out Giovanna." Handing him the box, she took her place next to him on the bed. "Go ahead and open that." Slipping the thick yellow ribbon off the box, Louis carefully opened the lid, tossing it aside. Moving the tissue paper aside, he looked at his wife with wide eyes. "Seriously?" "Yes, daddy." Looking between the yellow sleeper in the box and his wife, Louis felt tears cloud his eyes. "You're pregnant?" "I am. Eleven weeks along." Gia grabbed his hand and place it on her still flat stomach. "Apparently your little swimmers were bound and determined the night of our wedding." He laughed, wiping the tears from his eyes. "Is everything alright?" Picking up the sleeper, she grabbed the sonogram photos from underneath handing them to Louis. "Your son or daughter is doing just well. He or she is the size of a fig. The doctor says everything looks great." "When are you due? How did you find out you were pregnant?" Louis couldn't take his eyes off the photos. “How are you feeling? Should you even be traveling? Should you be sitting?” Gia laughed. "Breathe babe. Due date is January 22. I was throwing up constantly for two weeks, feeling better after I was done. For the hell of it I did a pregnancy test and it came back positive, went to the doctors after that." "Who else knows?" Louis tore his eyes off looking at Gia's watery smile. Leaning forward to kiss him, she smiled brightly. "You and me and no one else. We do need to tell people soon." "My mum and sisters, your parents and siblings. We can tell the boys tonight if you want." Louis stopped looking wide eyed at her. "What are we going to do?" Gia looked her her husband with concern. "What do you mean?" "Are you going home after this or are you sticking around?" Louis placed his hand on her stomach. "I'm going to be really selfish here and say that I don't want to miss a second of this pregnancy but with the tour it's not feasible to be there every second." Kissing him, those words were exactly what Gia needed to hear. Tears slipped down her face, Louis pulling her into his chest. "Hey, hey what's wrong?" "You are the most perfect man Louis Tomlinson." She sniffled. "That's exactly what I needed to hear. I was so worried about how you would take the news - not that you wouldn't be happy but the fact that we've only been married for 11 weeks and five of those have been separated." "Babe, yes timing is difficult at the moment, but you're pregnant and I couldn't be happier." Louis wiped her tears away kissing her forehead. "So what's the plan?" Taking a shaky breath, Gia squeezed his hand. "I talked to the doctor and she said it would be okay to travel with you through my seventh month - November. Then she doesn't want me leaving London. She told me when she wants me in for appointments and has recommended doctors along the way to visit." "So you're staying with us on tour?" Gia nodded. "If you'll have me. The doctor warned me to take it easy as much as possible. She said I'll become more tired as I progress and to take full advantage of naps." "Giovanna Maria Tomlinson you've made me the happiest man ever. I love you, Italia." She laughed. "Hey it takes two to tango Pooks. And I love you too." The two spent the afternoon skyping with their families delivering the news. Both mothers had cried while Louis' siblings were excited to be aunts. Ava screeched and cried when Gia told her. Tony was excited to be grandpa. Her brothers cracked jokes of Louis not being able to resist knocking her up. Everyone was very excited and told Gia to let them know if she needed anything. After delivering the news to their families, the two brainstormed of how to tell their friends. Gia wrapped in Louis' arms yawned sleepily as he rambled on. He smiled seeing her fast asleep, her cheek nuzzled against his chest. Caressing her flat tummy, he cleared his throat, whispering to his unborn child. "Hi peanut, I'm your daddy. Your mum and I are so excited you're on your way. Your mummy is the best person I know and I'm happy she's the one that's going on this crazy journey with me. You will have to be patient with us as this is our first time." Gia shifted slightly, causing Louis to pause in his speech. "Anyways, I promise that I'll always be there for you no matter what. I'll take you to the park, teach you the fine art of football, and support you no matter what. I want you to try everything once and if you want to do something other than footie then that'll be all right." "Honestly I just want you to be happy and healthy. Everything else is just icing on the cake. I may not have the easiest job but that's never going to keep me from loving, protecting and taking care of you. You're my little man or princess and I will always be there for you no matter what." He felt tears on his chest. Looking down at Gia, he saw her teary eyes on his. "Awe Damsel why are you crying?" "Because you're being so sweet." She sniffled wiping the tears away. "You're already talking to the baby." Louis nuzzled her closer to his side, kissing her forehead. "Since you were obviously eavesdropping, I promise I'm always going to be there for you and our many children. But I need to you tell me when it becomes too much. There may come a time where I'm gone too much or you feel like you're doing it all, I need to you tell me to walk away from it all. Can you do that?" "But you love it so much." She whispered. Looking into her eyes, his hand cupped her cheek. "But you and our children are more important than my career. I've had a great run and things can only get better as we add to our brood but if you feel like I'm never around you need to tell me. Okay?" "Okay." She leaned up and kissed him sealing her promise to him. Looking at the clock, Gia groaned seeing it 4:30 all ready. "I need a shower." "Want some company?" Louis raised his eyebrows up and down suggestively. Smacking his shoulder, Gia laughed. "Nope! You're a dirty boy." "Then I guess I need a girl to help me get clean." Louis mused. "I'm sure there is plenty of girls around that would be willing to help." Gia's eyes went wide looking at her husband. "Not a chance in hell bubs. Let's go!" Leaving a trail of her clothes on the way to the bathroom definitely peaked Louis' interest. Chuckling he followed her into the bathroom where they both got squeaky clean. 6:00pm The two held hands as they walked into the conference room where dinner was being held that night. Paul and Preston were both there as well as the boys, Scarlett, Tricia, Mollie. "Look what the cat drug in! What are you doing here?" Liam hugged Gia with a grin, a surprised look on his face. Gia hugged him back with gusto. "I surprised Louis by flying out here. I'm joining you guys for a bit if you don't mind." "Absolutely not. The more the merrier." Niall said, Louis and Gia trading glances with one another. Mollie galloped over to greet her auntie. Gia enthusiastically gave her a massive hug. Louis took a seat at the end by the boys as Gia sat next to Tricia. "So this afternoon I was inspired and wrote some songs. Just pieces if you guys want to hear them later." "Absolutely. What was your inspiration?" Harry asked with a smirk on his face. Louis slapped his arm, chuckling. "Dirty but no. Gia just surprising me in general." Gia meanwhile was talking to the girls grinning the entire time. "You haven't stopped smiling since I picked you up from the airport. What gives?" "I'm just really happy and excited to be here. I'm just happy to be hanging out with you in this sunny, beautiful country instead of miserable England." Gia shook her head at Tricia. Scarlett pointed at Gia, a look of determination of her face. "No Tricia is onto something. Something is going on with you. Spill!" "There's nothing going on. I had a great afternoon of sexing my husband up and now I'm excited for an evening of crazy shenanigans with you folk." Gia held her hands up in innocence. Scarlett nodded unconvinced. "You're hiding something Giovanna and we will figure it out." "Uh huh and I wish you all the luck in the world." Gia rose her eyebrows in challenge. The rest of dinner went off without hitch. The boys had convinced Paul to clear the pool area so could go swimming without interruptions. Paul relented and before long the boys were cannonballing into the lukewarm water. "So Tommo what are these songs you were mentioning earlier?" Niall asked catching Mollie as she jumped into the pool. Louis smirked. "There's like four I've started but I'm stuck." "Well just start singing them and maybe we can help you." Harry suggested. Louis took a deep breath, glancing at Gia before clearing his throat. "Now pay attention - these took a while to come up with. You know you love me, I know you care, Just shout whenever, and I'll be there, You are my love, you are my heart, And we will never ever ever be apart ." "It's catchy." Harry nodded, bobbing his head to the beat. Niall snorted. "It's quite catchy because it's already a song. It's Bieber." "Oh sorry. It's stuck in my head. Next song goes like this - When I'm not with you I lose my mind, Give me a sign, Hit me baby one more time ." Tricia hit Gia's arm with wide eyes, whispering. "No way! When? How? How far?" "Yes way!" Gia hissed back turning to the men with a smirk. Danielle and Scarlett soon caught on to what Louis was trying to accomplish. Liam rolled his eyes. "Nice try. That's Britney. Seems you were a little too distracted by Gia this afternoon. Wanna try again pretty boy?" "I swear I've got a hit here." Louis mused. "Last one. Havin' my baby. What a lovely way of sayin'. How much you love me ." Liam snorted. "That one is a song all ready! I think it's high time we admit Louis to an institution because he's officially lost it! Man do you not know what the words 'copyright' mean?" "I think I'm pretty smart. Besides your wives and girlfriend figured it out pretty quickly, nincompoops." Louis smirked. Liam, Niall and Harry turned to their girls who simply smiled at them. "It's all up to you to figure it out. If you think about it, it's not that hard to figure out!" "Just because you were your class valedictorian doesn't mean the rest of us were that smart, sweetheart!" Niall drawled glancing at his wife. Liam's eyes lit up, grinning at his friend. "That's awesome mate. You must be over the moon." "Uh huh. Can't stop smiling." Louis glances at Gia with a grin. "We are so excited." Harry cleared his throat motioning between himself and Niall. "Ummm .... Still confused over here." "I'm going to break it down for you very slowly." Scarlett drawled looking at the two men. "Think about what the three songs have in common with one another." Niall tilted his head going over all the lyrics. "Wait, no really?" "Wanna share with the class Nialler?" Louis smirked. Looking over at Gia, who merely nodded, Niall smirked. "Louis' gone and joined the daddy's club. All the songs have to do with baby." Everyone looked to Gia and Louis for confirmation. The couple both grinned and nodded before the pool area erupted in cheers and excitement congratulations. Questions were thrown out as hugs were quickly exchanged. "When are you due?" Scarlett asked, Gia sitting on Louis' lap snuggled up to his chest. Gia smiled. "January 22. I had a scan two days ago and everything looks good. The doctor said I can travel up until November then I'm homebound." "What about the base and your job?" Liam asked bouncing Mollie on his legs, her laughter causing everyone to smile. Louis kissed her forehead before she spoke. "I resigned. I was going to be placed behind a desk and not allowed anywhere near the bombers. I would've been miserable so I handed in my resignation yesterday. So currently I'm unemployed." "So what's the next steps?" Tricia asked bouncing in Niall's lap excited at the possibilities. The couple laughed. "The plan is for me to travel with you guys for the next few months. Tour is done end of October so then we'll be home, decorate the nursery and prepare for peanut to arrive." "Do you want to know what you're having and do your parents know?" Liam had Mollie wrapped up in his arms keeping the little girl from becoming too cold. Louis chuckled, remembering how his mum and sisters reacted. "Our families found out this afternoon and they're beyond excited. Gia and I talked and I think we want to find out what we're having. Our lives are so out of our control so this will be nice to have so be can at least prepare for his or her arrival." "I remember thinking that when I was pregnant." Tricia sighed looking at her little girl. "But there's no way to prepare for every little thing." Gia yawned, nodding at Tricia’s remark. "That's why I have you in my corner." "To Louis and Gia two of the best people to become parents. You both will be amazing." Harry raised his beer toasting his best friend and his wife. "Here here." And the rest of the night the guys gave Louis tips on what not to do with a baby (forgetting the fact he has five sisters and a brother) while the girls spoke of names and how to decorate the nursery. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- November 2, 2019 They had literally gotten off tour two days ago. All Louis and Gia wanted to do was relax and enjoy being back home. Yet their friends and family had other plans. The pregnancy was progressing as normal as possible. They had found out back in August that Gia was carrying twins, adding to the excitement. Both were taken back by the visual of twins but weren't surprised by the abundance in their families. Gia had asked Tricia to attend one of the sonograms while Louis was stuck at a radio interview. After that, Tricia had begged Gia to let her throw a gender reveal party for the couple's baby shower. After much begging and headaches, Gia relented and agreed. Now two days after tour, their baby shower would take place later that afternoon with their friends and family gathering at Niall and Tricia's house. Tricia was the only person (besides their doctor) in the world to know what the Tomlinson babies were. There had been times both Gia and Louis had begged to find out; Tricia merely said the two would thoroughly be surprised by what they were having. This, of course, led to the crew surrounding the boys to take bets on what they were having. Bets included the babies' birth date and what the twins would weigh. The fans were generally really happy for our couple. They waited until September to announce it officially. Gia was worried about how everyone would react to their exciting news while Louis was excited to announce it. In the end, the fans absolutely loved the news. "So we are actually doing this huh?" Gia bit her lip looking at her husband. Louis grinned brightly. "The fans are going to love it. They will be happy." "You sure?" Placing a hand on her growing bump, Gia had this weird feeling she just couldn't shake. Louis looked at his wife carefully, crossing the room to pull her into his arms. "Things are going to be just fine. I promise. Now how are we going to announce this?" "How about we just tweet it out?" She wasn't sure what the "proper" way to announce a pregnancy to his 22 million Twitter followers. Kissing her forehead, Louis shook his head. "That's what normal celebrities do. We have to do something different!!" "Of course Pooks." Gia raised her eyes at his tone. "What do you have in mind Popstar?" Louis chuckled. "Well Damsel I've got several ideas in mind. But I'm narrowing down which ones you would actually go along with." "I'm guessing the paint ones just flew out of your mind along with the screaming from the top of a building." Gia smirked watching Louis' face fall. Louis bit his lip. “How good is your singing voice?” “My what?” Gia’s hazel eyes went wide. “Louis William Tomlinson, you’re the Popstar in this family, not me. And besides, why do you need to know about my singing voice? I mean when these babies come, you’re going to be the one singing to them, not me.” Hugging her closer, he nuzzled his nose into her neck, placing a gentle kiss. “I was thinking we could recreate how we told the boys and announce it that way.” “I would prefer if we keep that to ourselves and the boys.” Gia stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “If we are going to to tell the fans, I want something unique for them - not recycling old ideas.” Louis shook his head. “First you’re nervous about telling everyone and now you don’t like my idea. Fine woman, you come up with something!” “Ok I will.” She bit her lip in concentration trying to figure out an unique way to tell her husband’s very passionate fans they were expecting the next generation of Tomlinson’s. “I got it. Go ask Lou if we can borrow a piece of Lux’s chalk and meet me in the back parking lot. Also grab Tricia to help us.” “You’re lost in never, neverland over here.” Louis spoke, wrapping his arms around her growing tummy. “You look a million miles away.” Looking over her shoulder, Gia grinned at her husband. “I was thinking back to when we told the fans we were expecting. That was a fun day.” “That photo will go down in the history of photos. I think we officially broke Twitter that day.” Louis mused, turning her around, her seventh month pregnant belly fitting nicely between them. She laughed, agreeing 100% with her husband. “It went over better than even I could have planned.” “So what are we going to do exactly?” Louis managed to find the all the boys and their significant others as he made his way to the back parking lot. Gia grinned. “Just stand there, Popstar and look pretty. Leave the dirty work to me.” Chalk in hand, she wrote 1992, 1993 and 2020 on the ground. Picking up the two pairs of baby shoes she had bought only days before, she placed them in front of the 2020 while smirking up at her husband. “I’m assuming I don’t have to tell you which place to stand in front of?” Louis gave her a look before sauntering over the 1992 while Gia took her place in front of the 1993. “Ok Tricia, whenever you’re ready.” Taking several shots at different angles with Gia’s iPhone, Tricia handed it back to her pregnant friend for approval. “All right here we go. Any bets on how long until Twitter is officially broken?” And with the simple tweet of “It’s true, Louis and I are expanding our family in 2020.” the Twitter universe officially broke down. “And you were so worried about that day.” Smacking her husband’s shoulder, Gia scowled. “Shut up. You were just as nervous as me even though you won’t admit it.” “Uh huh . . . can you believe we’re going to be parents in two months?” Louis’ eyes went wide as the words flowed from his mouth. Gia shook her head. “No! We still have to finish the nursery and finish getting everything ready. We are nowhere ready for these two buggers to come!” “Hey, hey don’t freak out on me now. We will be ready and things will be perfect. Between me, you, and our families and friends, things will be alright.” Louis looked his wife in the eyes and smiled. “Please don’t freak out. Everything will be perfect and today is the first step. We can finally know what we’re having and then we can start talking about names.” Taking a breath, Gia felt herself calm down at his words. “Thanks! You always know what to say when I need to take a moment.” “Always will Italia. Now for the most important question of the day.” Louis paused dramatically, leaving his wife in suspense. “What do you think of Gertrude for a girl’s name?” Not even trying to hide her distaste for the name, Gia shook her head. “No, no just no! We are not going to scar our precious baby girl with a name like Gertrude.” “Come on! It’s a classic name. Besides we can come up with a cute nickname for her.” Louis kissed her cheek. “And I know you’re all about cute nicknames for our babies.” Standing on her tiptoes, Gia looked her husband in his eyes. “Listen to me Louis William we are going to both agree on these kids’ names. No throwing me for a loop with awful names, you hear me?.” “Ok, ok. I hear you loud and clear. Geez woman! I’m married to you for seven months and you’re already a class act nagger!” The minute the words were out of his mouth, Louis could’ve kicked himself. Gia dissolved into tears as she soaked in the words. “Awwww Gia I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that . . . I actually love it when you nag me.” “No you don’t. You just said so . . . just leave me alone.” Gia pushed him away as he tried to take her into his arms. He shook his head. “Soldier, I didn't mean it that way. I was teasing.” “But underneath all that teasing are real words.” She hiccuped, tears streaming down her face. “Just leave me alone, Louis. I’ll take my nagging somewhere else.” Picking up the car keys, Gia grabbed her purse, heading towards the backdoor. Louis knew if he let her, she would walk out that door and go who knows where. Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her into his arms, wiping the tears away and cooing in her ear. “I’m sorry babe. I totally did not mean it the way you think I did.” He brushed more tears away. “I know you’re extra sensitive now and I spoke before thinking and I’m sorry. I love it that we’ve been married for seven months and you have fallen into such an easy routine to remind me of what I need to or who I need to see. You are the perfect wife and soon to be mother and I love you very much.” The sobbing stopped but tears still rolled down her cheeks. “You mean that?” “Giovanna Maria Tomlinson, you are the most perfect wife and I would be a total mess without your constant nagging as you put it. Please don’t ever stop nagging me or telling me what to do.” Louis paused kissing her cheek gently. “I love you forever and always, Damsel.” The tears rolled down her cheeks faster causing him to sigh. “What’s wrong now?” “Nothing you’re just too sweet. Damn you and your sweet talking Tomlinson.” She giggled, wiping away the tears. Louis kissed her. “I can’t win can I?” “Nope . . .you’re stuck now buster.” 3:00pm They were the last to arrive at their own baby shower. Louis naturally blamed it on Gia’s inability to pick out a suitable outfit while Gia blamed it on her ever expanding stomach. Their friends and family just laughed at the two and welcomed them into the house. Mollie demanded her auntie and uncle’s attention the moment they stepped foot into the house. “Auntie Gia when are da babies comin’?” Mollie asked grinning brightly. “Not until January. They’re nice and snuggly in my belly.” Gia asked, as the girl putting her little hands on Gia’s stomach. Both laughed when the babies kicked in hello. Mollie pulled back her hand, glaring at Gia’s stomach. “They kicked me.” “They’re just saying hello.” Gia smiled. “What do you want the babies to be?” Mollie looked at her uncle before looking at her auntie. “They’re gonna be girls. No boys!” “But what if they’re both boys?” Gia looked at the crowd that was growing, anxious to see what the little girl would say. “Will you still play with them?” Mollie smirked, giggling. “Boys are smelly. They’re dirty and gross and like to play in the mud.” “But your daddy and uncles are boys and they’re not gross or smelly. They do like to play in the mud but after they take a shower, they’re nice and clean.” The young girl’s eyes went wide at the revelation. “I guess they’ll be ok . . . but you make sure you have girls, all right Auntie Gia?” “I’ll try my best kiddo.” Taking a moment to maneuver herself, Gia sighed as she stood up. Greeting her family members as she went, Gia soon found herself in the kitchen where hers and Louis’ mums were. “Hi mums.” “Well there’s the guest of honor. We saw your hubby not too long ago.” Rose hugged her daughter, taking a moment to rub her tummy. “What stopped you?” Gia grabbed herself some pink lemonade, taking a moment to look around the very festive kitchen. Tricia had gone above and beyond Louis and Gia’s expectations. There was a chalkboard where people had put their predictions down of the gender of the babies and so far, boys was winning by five. There was blue and pink cupcakes, candy, drinks, and either mustache or bow so people could cast their vote on what the babies’ gender would be. “Mollie stopped to ask me questions about the babies.” Gia smiled, giving Jay a hug. “Where is everyone else?” Jay nodded to the backyard smiling. “My girls are all outside along with your brothers and dad. There’s a football game going on. My son said his hellos as she passed through.” “Typically Lou. I swear there isn’t a day that our tele isn’t tuned to a footie match.” Gia rolled her eyes, smiling at Tricia, Scarlett, and Danielle making their entrance into the kitchen. Tricia laughed. “Niall wants to take Mollie to her first match soon.” “Lou’s counting down the day until he can take the twins.” Gia giggled. “I did pick up Manchester United onesies the other day when I was out. Showed them to Lou and he immediately said those were their coming home outfits, no, if, ands or buts.” Scar’s eyes went wide. “Please tell me you talked him down from that one.” “Of course I did. I did my about to cry act and he dropped the subject altogether, mumbling that we could talk about it as we got closer to the birth.” Gia grinned causing the girls to laugh loudly. Picking up a blue cupcake, Gia swirled her finger in the frosting before tasting it. “Those are from your favorite bakery. How’s the nursery coming along?” “I think we have it all planned out; Louis just needs to get his butt in gear. He’s dragging his feet for some odd reason..” Gia shook her head. The girls laughed at Gia’s description of the man they all loved. “So how are you going to do the nursery?” “Three of the walls are going to be a darker grey color and the fourth is going to be navy blue chevron and white. That is going to be the wall the cribs are up against. I’ve been collecting letters of the alphabet and have been painting them different colors so that’ll add a bit more color to the walls.” She sighed. “Louis surprised me with elephant prints that we got framed that will go in the nursery as well.” The door opened, revealing their sweaty husbands and boyfriend just as the girls awed. Louis pushed through with a smirked. “Better run now boys, the girls are cooing over something that is going to cause us to work.” “Shut up. See you couldn’t even say hello to everyone because you had to run off for a footie match.” Gia smirked at her husband’s guilty smile. Walking over to her, he attempted to pull her into his arms all while she pushed him away. “I don’t want your sweaty body to be near me.” “Come on! You love my sweaty body.” He countered. Everyone to chuckle at the couple. “Hard to believe they’ll be parents in two months time. They still act like teenagers.” “Hey I can be responsible.” Louis protested. Harry shook his head. “Like yesterday when you were yelling at us because you couldn’t find your shoe?” “In my defense, that shoe was playing hide and seek and I wasn’t doing a great job of finding it.” Louis mumbled causing Gia to wrap her arms around him. Kissing his cheek, Gia cooed. “It’s all right, Pooks. We all have those days.” “No respect. At least these babies will love me.” He ran his hand over Gia’s baby bump and grinned feeling his children kick. Since her baby belly had expanded, Louis fascination with it had grown. Every night, just before she drifted off to sleep, Louis would talk with the babies and tell them what he had accomplished that day. There had been times Gia had woken up in the middle of the night and Louis would be talking to his children, telling them about his fears or worries. Tricia grinned. “Yes Louis your babies will love you no matter what. Now are you two ready to find out what you’re having?” “Yes!” The couple’s grins widened as Tricia handed them a white t-shirt. “Go change into that and then meet us out back.” She instructed calling for everyone to meet them in the backyard. Ten minutes later, Louis and Gis waited patiently for Tricia to give them instructions. “Now for the last month, I have been the only one to know what the Tomlinson’s were having. But now, the mummy and daddy will find out. So, wait until I’m out of the way, but these squirt bottles have the color related to the gender of your babies.” Tricia moved, grabbing her camera to capture the moment, allowing Gia and Louis to grin at each other. “You’re going down Soldier.” “Not if I get you first Popstar.” And the two started squirting paint at each other. Gia’s paint bottle held blue paint while Louis’ held pink. Gia started crying seeing the two colors mix together and hers and Louis’ shirts. “A boy and a girl.” “You got your daughter and I got my son.” Louis pulled her into his arms. “Exactly what we wanted - one of each.” The families and friends congratulated the two as smiles were all around. “To the newest set of Tomlinson twin - may you always be healthy and happy.” And so the growing family, surrounded by their family and friends, celebrated reveal of their son and daughter well into the night. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- January 8, 2020 Christmas passed silently for the couple. They had celebrated Louis’ Birthday and Christmas in their newly purchased home. Right after the baby shower, Gia figured out why Louis was dragging his feet on the nursery. Louis had surprised her by showing her two homes, one of which she immediately fell in love with. Three weeks after he showed her the house, the two were moved in and settled. Louis’ reasoning? He didn’t want his children to be brought home to a flat. New Years passed with little fanfare. A quiet night in was ordered for the two as Gia was miserable with lack of sleep and the inability to get comfortable as she was knee deep in her ninth month. Her birthday passed with their friends dropping in for a mini party. She sat in their living room, feet propped up a bowl of grapes balanced delicately on her stomach. Some TV show played on the screen as she was lost deep in thoughts. “Gia?” “In here.” She threw her head back, watching for Louis as he came from the kitchen. “What are you doing?” He threw a stack of papers on the kitchen table, walking over to her and placing a kiss on her lips. “Just finished the paperwork for the next album. Liam wants to get cracking with recording but I told him not until February.” “You can go. I’m perfectly fine just chilling here while your son and daughter beat up my bladder and ribs.” She smirked as his face fell in guilt. Kneeling in front of her and placing his hands on her expanded tummy, he kissed her lips softly. “I’m sorry Damsel.” “Why are you apologizing Popstar?” She giggled. “It’s your children’s fault . . . not yours. Besides I get to hang this over their heads for the next 18 years or so.” Louis shook his head, loving the feeling of the babies’ kicks against his wife’s tummy. “Did you think more about the names we talked about?” “Yeah, that’s all I’ve been able to think about. I’ve narrowed it down to two each and we’ll go from there.” Gia ran a hand through his messy hair. He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah which ones do you like?” “Two of yours and two of mine. The middle name is the same for both.” Gia winced when a powerful kick was delivered to her ribs. “Ouch baby.” Louis rubbed his hand against the injured area while looking at his wife in concerned. “You ok, Italia?” “Yeah just one of our children is going to be a football player just like their daddy.” Gia smirked. “I’m ok babe . . . that was just a strong kick.” He nodded. “Do you need me to do anything?” “Can you sit up here and cuddle with me?” Gia pouted. He chuckled but crawled up on the couch, pulling his wife into his arms with a kiss to her forehead. “Can you believe your due date is in two weeks?” Louis rubbed his hand across her belly. Gia shook her head. “Honestly I didn’t think I would make it to this point. The doctor said that most women with twins don’t make it to their due date. She said any day now.” “Well our babies are nice and comfortable in there. They don’t want to come out.” Louis hummed in contentment. Gia smiled, feeling the vibrations in his chest. “I just want them to be healthy; that’s all I care about. Twenty fingers and toes and healthy children.” “Me too babe, me too.” January 10, 2020 7:00am Four days later, she found herself strapped up to a fetal heart monitor in a hospital bed. Her and Louis spoke too soon. Gia was awoken at 2:45 in the morning with strong pains in her stomach and awoke the sleeping beast of her husband. He immediately started freaking out causing Gia to laugh until a strong contraction killed that moment. “What do you need me to do?” Louis asked grabbing a pair of sweatpants, pulling them on before looking at Gia. Taking a deep breath, she pulled her own outfit on, struggling to focus. “Go get my bag from the closet then help me to the car. We’ll call the hospital on the way.” He quickly followed her instructions, returning to her side to pull her into a hug. “Hey Gia?” “Yeah?” He kissed her before grinning. “We’re going to be parents.” “Yes we are. Let’s go!” Louis sped to the hospital, afraid of Gia delivering in the car. He spoke quietly, calming her down and breathing with her. His hand was tightly wound with hers as he tried to calm down for her sake. And now, she was comfortable for the time being. Hearing the door open, she smiled as visitors came in. “Now I’m not one to lose sleep but getting that phone call was a welcomed way to wake up in the morning.” Harry yawned. Gia giggled. “You’ll get to blame the terrors in a few hours. Sorry for waking you up.” “It’s all right. We’ve been waiting for this moment for ages.” Scarlett grinned. Gia shifted uncomfortably. “Is there anyone else out there?” “No . . . . Tricia and Niall had to drop Mollie off at her mum’s and Liam and Danielle are trying to get back from Paris.” Scarlett grinned. “Both of your mums have been called and both promised to be on their way down. We’ll send them in when they arrive. Do you need us to do anything else?” Gia thought about it for a moment. “I think we have everything. The car seats are in the car and I think we are all set.” “That’s good. Calm is good.” “I have a feeling there will be a new mum club in our circle soon.” Gia’s eyes went wide. “Who?!?!” “Well a little birdy let it slip that the reason Danielle and Liam are in Paris is because she told him a little secret and there’s something fishy going on with Niall and Tricia.” Scarlett gossiped. Gia chuckled. “I’m so glad you’re always the one with the gossip around here. Nothing is a secret around you Styles.” “Thank you, thank you.” Scarlett bowed just as the door opened revealing Niall and Tricia. Tricia immediately joined Scarlett by Gia’s side, gushing over the mum to be. “You doing ok?” “As well as can be expected. I’m not progressing much but the doctor said things will speed up soon.” Gia shrugged, relaxing while she got the opportunity. Tricia motioned over her shoulder. “Louis doing good?” “He’s nervous but won’t admit it. Scarlett is going to have the boys talk to him once they all arrive.” Gia shrugged. “He’s worried about being a dad.” Scarlett scoffed. “He’s the one that has nothing to be worried about. Look at his sisters, brother, and how he is with Mollie. He’ll be fine.” “We know that; he’s just having a harder time believing it.” Gia shook her head. “I’m hoping Niall and the boys can knock some sense into him before I have these babies.” 1:45pm They had all been pushed out of their friend’s room. Louis was the only one Gia wanted in the room with her as she delivered. Tricia led the group to the waiting room where they would spend the next however many minutes or hours until she delivered the twins. “Gia seemed in good spirits.” Harry made conversation as all the girls snorted. Tricia shook her head. “That’s because she was on some happy drugs. She cannot feel anything below her belly button at the moment. She’s going to be happy as a clam.” “Did you have drugs when you had Mollie?” Scarlett asked looking at her friend. Tricia smirked. “No. I thought I was one of those Superwomen that could deliver without drugs. Damn that was the worse mistake I ever made. The worst part was that Mollie was breached so they kept trying to turn her around but she was stubborn as a mule.” “My hero.” Niall kissed her dramatically causing Tricia to laugh. “But you forget about all the pain as soon as that child is in your arms and the freak-out moments start.” Rose and Jay both nodded. “It’s true. I’ve been in many delivery rooms where the mum is cursing the husband for knocking her up and all that but as soon as that baby is placed in their arms, everything is forgiven.” Everyone laughed at Jay’s statement. It relieved some of the tension and anxiousness within the small waiting room. “This is going to take forever.” “Depends on how much of a hurry these babies are. If they’re like Gia, it’ll be quick. She was born an hour after we arrived at the hospital.” Rose commented, looking at Harry with a smirk. Jay shook her head. “If they’re like Louis, however, this will take a long time. He was in no hurry to be born. I was in labor with him for 23 hours.” “Let’s hope these babies are more like mumma than daddy.” Niall smirked, scowling when Tricia smacked him. The doors opened as the group inside waited with bated breath. They were sorely disappointed when it was just Liam and Danielle returning from Paris. “We didn’t miss it did we?” “No they rolled her to delivery around 1:30. No word yet.” Niall said as hugs were given to the newly arrived couple. Everyone dispersed into their own conversations. Niall smirked at Louis’ siblings, sitting in a group looking nervously around the room. “Are you guys ready to be aunts and uncle?” “Uh huh. Louis said we can dress them up and play with them.” Doris giggled, looking at her older sisters with wide eyes. Lottie shook her head. “They’ll be little for a bit so you won’t be able to play with them just yet. You’ll get to hold them and give them loads of cuddles.” “How little will they be?” Ernie asked looking between Niall and Lottie. Fizzy smiled at her little brother. “They’ll be smaller than Doris’ baby dollies. You’ll have to have mummy help you hold them.” “That’s tiny!” Doris and Ernie’s eyes went wide as the doors opened once more. “Is Agatha Franklin’s family here?” The nurse asked holding a file while scanning the room for the patient’s family. An older couple stood and followed the nurse through the doors. Niall started tapping his feet while looking at his wife. Slipping his hand in hers, he grinned. “You ok?” “Just anxious. I want them to be here and be healthy.” Tricia bit her lip looking at her husband. Niall squeezed her hand before smiling. “Gia’s strong and she’s got Louis. They’ll be fine. Just think, in about seven months, we’ll be here again. Just you’ll be in that room with me by your side.” “I know. That’s what I keep thinking about.” Tricia kissed him gently. “How do you think Mollie is going to react?” Niall chuckled. “Well she has been hinting at it since Uncle Lewie is gonna be a daddy. I think she’ll be happy to have her own baby doll to play with.” “I think I’m more anxious for our friends to know.” Tricia smirked looking around the room. Harry and Liam were both pacing. “One thing that is for sure.” Niall smirked. “What’s that?” “No matter what, this child is coming into a family full of love and support.” Niall laughed. “That’s an understatement. This family is a little overabundant when it comes to love and support.” “True but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Tricia smirked laying her head on Niall’s shoulder with a sigh. “You know what they say?” Harry interrupted the couple’s moment with a smirk. Niall glanced up at his friend. “What’s that?” “Secrets are for sharing not for keeping quiet.” Harry smirked, everyone turning to the couple with eyebrows raised. “Is there anything you want to share with the peanut gallery?” Tricia looked at her husband before grinning at Harry. “I don’t know what you’re talking to. We don’t have anything in secret.” “But you two have been whispering over here for the last 15 minutes.” Harry pouted, realizing he was wrong. Tricia smirked. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret, Styles. When you have a five year old running around constantly and doesn’t stop until she is asleep, you take any moment you have free to talk with your husband without her interrupting. Niall and I haven’t had much time to just sit and talk in the past few days so we are taking full advantage of it.” Harry was unable to reply as a nurse stepped into the room and turned her attention to the patrons waiting. “Family for Gia and Louis Tomlinson?” Everyone gathered, smiling brightly at the friends and family of the couple. “They’re just getting cleaned up and Louis will be out soon. Everything went perfectly and smoothly.” “How’s Gia?” Tricia asked quickly. The nurse smiled brightly. “She was brilliant. Louis will be out shortly and he wants to tell you everything.” The room’s tone took a different meaning after the nurse stepped back out. Everyone was on pin and needles, needing to see for themselves that all was alright with their friends and family members. Twenty minutes after the nurse came in, the doors opened again but this time it was who everyone was waiting for. Still in his yellow scrubs, Louis smirked at his anxious friends and family. He wore a tired expression that was overshadowed by the excitement on his face. In his arms were two sleeping babies. “They’re here!” A nurse hovered behind Louis as he showed off his son and daughter. Everyone was careful to crowd around the new daddy as he grinned brightly. Everyone oohed and awed at the minutes old babies. “Names? Weight? Time of Birth? How’s your wife?” Tricia, Scarlett, and Danielle each threw out a question causing Louis to laugh. “First, grandmas do want to hold your grandbabies?” Louis motioned to Jay and Rose with a grin. He handed his son to Rose and his daughter to his mum before accepting the hugs from the girls. “Alright what did you ask?” “What are their names? When were they born? How much did they weigh and how’s Gia?” Tricia repeated with a bright smile. Louis smirked. “Gia wants to tell you the names herself so that’ll have to wait. Our son was born first at 2:10pm weighing 6 pounds 4.5 ounces, 19.5 inches long. He came out screaming his little lungs out. Our daughter arrived at 2:22pm weighing 6 pounds 1 ounce, 18.5 inches long. She was much quieter and sedated.” “And Gia?” Niall asked looking at the tired smile on his best friend’s face. Louis nodded. “She was perfect. She did absolutely amazing and I’m so proud of her. She got tired quickly but was determined. She’s resting now in recovery and you guys will be able to see her in about an hour after she’s back in the room.” “Is there anyone you want us to call?” Scarlett asked glancing at the baby girl in Jay’s arms. He paused for a moment. “Will you call management? Tell them I’ll send out a tweet in a little bit announcing the news. Call anyone you think is important. Be sure to let your families know as well . . . I don’t want four mums coming after me and Gia because we didn’t let them know.” “I let your dad know, Lou.” Jay whispered handing his daughter back to him. Giving her a quick hug, carefully avoiding hurting his new daughter, Louis smiled. “Thanks mum.” He quickly collected his son before promising everyone he would be back as soon as Gia was settled and ready for visitors. Walking slowly down the hallway, he peeked his head into the room smiling brightly. Her eyes were closed as she rested after the eventful day. Taking a seat in the chair next to the bed, he adjusted his son and daughter on his crossed leg, taking a moment to really let it sink in. “So what did they think?” Louis looked up at Gia with a smirk. “I think they’re all smitten with them. Our mums were the only two to hold them. I didn’t tell them their names letting them know you wanted to do that. I told them I would be back in about an hour to collect them. I wanted to give you a chance to get some rest.” “Thanks!” She smiled patting the side of the bed, granting him access to sit on the bed. “How is everyone out there?” Louis kissed her forehead chuckling as he pulled back. “They’re all worried about you, Soldier. You just gave birth to two babies no less and you’re worried about them? I think that's wrong.” “They’ve been in that waiting room for the last few hours bored out of their mind. At least we had something to keep us occupied.” She took her son from her husband’s arms, cuddling him closer to her. “So names.” Louis shook his head. “Yes that would be an important thing to discuss.” “Which ones of the four are you thinking?” Gia leaned her head against his shoulder taking a moment to enjoy the calm before the storm. He hummed in contentment as he looked at their two little miracles sleeping peacefully in their arms. “I love the one you suggested for baby girl but baby boy I’m torn. I love them both.” “Me too. How about we combine them. Your first name and my middle name.” Looking at his wife, he nodded stealing a kiss from her in agreement. Sighing happily, she nodded. “Sounds good. You might as well go grab everyone before they tear down the building in anxiousness.” Two minutes after he left, Gia heard him pause at the door and told them to be quiet. “I’m sorry babies for your overbearing family. They’re a little much to handle but they do mean well.” “We heard that!” Jay and Rose both whispered at the newest mummy causing Gia to grin. Their extended families came in carrying balloons and gift bags raided from the gift shop. Cuddling her twins closer, Gia giggled. “You were kinda meant to hear that.” After everyone got the chance to greet Gia and give her hugs and kisses, Gia smirked seeing her best friends and family members cramped in the room. Tricia had baby girl while Scarlett had baby boy. “So what are their names? Louis wouldn’t tell us.” “Well because when Louis was showing off the babies, we didn’t know them yet.” Gia smirked. “But we figured them out.” The boys looked anxious waiting for their mates to tell them the news. “Will you quit stalling and just tell us?” “Ok!! Don’t kill the new mummy!” Gia raised her hands in protest. “Our son’s name is Oliver Aaron Tomlinson and our daughter’s name is Cordelia Ann Tomlinson.” The girls immediately awed at the cuteness of the names while the boys nodded in approval. “What drew you to those names?” “I found Cordelia and fell in love with the name due to all the different nicknames you can pull from it and Ann is a family name that just flowed really pretty with it.” Gia smiled looking at her mum. “And Louis liked Oliver from the start. I liked the name but I wasn’t set on it. I wanted their middle names to start with the same letter so Aaron just flowed good with Oliver.” Jay looked at her son and daughter-in-law grinning. “They’re two perfect names for two perfect babies. Cora and Oli.” “Cora and Oli.” Gia murmured looking at Louis for confirmation. They had been going back and forth for a nickname for Cordelia - Louis liking Lia and Gia like Cori. Louis kissed his wife’s temple setting in beside her. “Cora and Oli . . . I like it.” "Did you cry?" Ava asked with a grin. Gia looked at Louis with a smirk. "There were a few tears shed between the two of us." "But they were very happy tears." Louis smiled. "She pushed me over to where they were cleaning them up and made me count fingers and toes and make sure all was well." Looking at her family and friends, Gia couldn't be happier to have them there even if she looked awful. "Had to make sure our children were all right." Their guests stayed a bit longer, soon leaving the family of four alone for a bit, telling Louis and Gia to relax and enjoy their children's first few hours in peace. Four hour later, Gia found herself looking at Louis who was snoozing in the chair next to the bed. "Daddy's exhausted, little ones." Cora and Oli were both lying on the bed, content for the moment. Letting her finger run down their tiny faces, Gia grinned at both of them. She couldn't believe she was a mum to two perfect children. Sighing, the day's events soon caught up to her. A knock on the door drew her attention away from her little ones. "Come in." Watching the door being pushed open, she put her finger to her lip. "Shhh Lou just fell asleep." "And left you all alone with the babies?" Tricia asked walking over to the bed carrying a gift bag. "This is for your little ones, Mumma." Gia accepted it, while Tricia picked up Cora, cuddling her close. "What are you doing back here?" "Mollie wanted to come see her new cousins." Tricia grinned. Not seeing the little girl anywhere, Gia raised her eyebrow in her best friend's direction. "Uh huh. And where is Mollie?" "Her and Niall got distracted by the wishing well in the lobby. I said I was coming up here by you and Niall assured me, he and Mollie would be along." Tricia cooed at Cora with a bright smile on her face. A nurse came in the room to check things over and let Gia know the babies would need to be fed soon. "Are you not breastfeeding?" "Nope. We tried earlier and there's something wrong with my milk production so they want me to pump then we'll bottle feed them." Gia smirked watching Louis adjust himself in the chair. Tricia nodded in his direction. "How grossed out did he get during that conversation?" "He didn't. He got more grossed out in the delivery room than talking about milk production." Gia smirked seeing the door push opened once more. Niall poked his head and grinned seeing Gia motion him in. "You gotta be quiet Molls. The babies might be sleeping." "Otay daddy!" Gia perked up seeing her little buddy skip through the door. "Hi Mumma, hi Auntie Gia. Where Uncle Lewie?" "Shhhh he's asleep." Gia pointed to the chair. "Do you wanna meet our babies?" Mollie got shy for a moment before nodding. "Have daddy put you up here and I'll introduce you." Once she was situated on the bed next to Gia, Mollie looked at the hours old babies with a grin. "They're little." "That they are miss." Gia picked Oli up looking at Mollie. "This is Oliver. And your mummy is holding Cora." Gia maneuvered Oli so he sat in Mollie's arms causing the girl to grin. "He's little." "They both are. Just like you were this little once." Tricia said causing the girl's eyes to widened. "I was this little?" Mollie asked giving Oli a kiss. Tricia nodded. "Yes ma'am you were. You were actually littler than Oli. You were 5 pounds 12 ounces." "How little is the new baby gonna be?" Mollie asked looking at her parents with wide eyes. Gia's eyes snapped up to look at Tricia and Niall who were smirking. "What new baby?" "The one in mummy's tummy!" Mollie smiled at her Auntie Gia. "I'm gonna have a sister." "Or brother." Tricia and Niall said together. Gia squealed quietly looking at her best friends. "I'm so excited for you two. When are you due?" "Well this is good news to wake up to!" Louis' groggy voice sounded in the room, causing his wife to look at him. "How long have you been awake?" Louis smiled reaching for Oli. "Just dozing." "Uncle Lewie!" Mollie screeched looking at her favorite buddy. "Congratlaions!" Louis beamed at her pronunciation. "Thanks little one." Louis and Mollie carried on their conversation while Gia looked at the new parents to be. "So when are you due?" "June 7th." Tricia smiled. "We wanted to wait to tell everyone but you can see how excited Molls is." Gia smiled. "I'm so excited for you guys. At least my children will have playmates always around." "True, very true." Niall agreed stealing Cora from his wife's arms. "And I get to get practice time in for our new little one." Gia squealed again. "It's going to baby central around our little camp." And the celebrations of the Tomlinson twins continued well into the night with visitors coming left and right until the nurses kicked everyone out except for mum and dad. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- May 21, 2043 - 23 years later She stared out into the spacious backyard. It was littered with young adults, aging parents and laughter, lots of laughter. It was a joyous occasion they were celebrating but her parents and family members tend to take celebrating a little too serious. They didn’t need an excuse to throw a party but this time they had a great one. Cora and her brother had just graduated from university - her with a journalism degree, him with a degree in engineering. She had landed a coveted spot at a magazine that was very vested in her father’s career back in the day; Oli and a friend had launched a new engineering firm in the heart of London, focusing on energy and resource consulting and a lot of other stuff she didn’t understand. He loved it though and that was the most important thing. “Why are you in here and not out there?” She was pushed from her thoughts as the question came from her mother. She smiled, pushing her brunette hair from her face before sighing. “It’s mayhem out there. That’s why Oli is out there and I’m here.” “They’re family, love. They’re not going to attack you.” Gia smiled at her oldest daughter. Cora lifted an eyebrow in her mother’s direction, something she learned from her father. “I don’t know about that. We haven’t had a full family get together in quite a while. I mean, Harry hasn’t reached his hugging quota for the day yet.” “Be nice Cordelia Ann or I’ll stick your father on you.” Gia warned pointing a finger in her daughter’s direction. Cora rolled her eyes. “Daddy will back me up on that one.” Her father and her were often found in cahoots with one another, driving her mother absolutely nuts. It was just one of the many special things she shared with her daddy. “I don’t doubt he will.” Cora looked at her mother with worried eyes. “Are you alright mum?” “I am . . . just can’t believe I’m old enough to have children graduate from university.” Gia wiped her eyes. “I’m so proud of you and your brother.” She pulled her mum into a hug, melting into the feeling of being in her mum’s arms. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got an office in London and you’ll still see me for family dinners. I’m just moving into a new house and starting a job. I’m still your little girl, no matter what.” “I know, it’s just that you’re so grown up and it’s difficult for your old mum to handle.” Gia laughed, pulling back from the hug. Cora smiled at her mum. “No matter what you’ll always be my mum. That will never change. I love you mummy.” “I love you too bug. What’s this special surprise you’re teasing us about?” Gia grinned at her daughter, hoping she would spill the beans. Cora laughed. “Nice try mum but you’re going to have to wait just like everyone else.” The back door swung open interrupting the mother-daughter moment. “What’s going on in here?” “Leave it Lou . . . just a little mother daughter bonding.” Gia swatted at her husband as he pulled both of his girls into his arms. He looked at them both carefully before sighing. “If there are tears, I’m out of here.” “You missed it by five minutes. You’re in the clear.” Gia teased, leaning up and kissing her husband. “Let’s go back to the party.” Not giving the two a chance to speak, she scooted out the door leaving father and daughter in the kitchen. “She ok?” “She can’t believe she's old enough to have kids graduating from uni. She’s just being sentimental.” Cora smiled at her father. There were times he was still clueless of what went on in the household, often turning to one of his daughters for an explanation. Louis nodded, taking a drink from the beer he retrieved from the fridge. “I’m with her there. Seems like yesterday we were bringing you and Oli home from the hospital. And now look at us; you’re working at the magazine and Oli has his own business.” “We’re still your children, dad. That’s not going to change; what will change is that we’re more successful than you currently are.” Cora was out the door before it even registered with Louis what she said. “You little bugger; I’m going to get you.” “Come on old man, we’ll fight right here, right now.” Cora loved challenging her father and was very good at it; Gia often times break up their playful fighting. Gia gave her husband a look which translated to Louis as ‘knock it off’. “Maybe some other time. I’m going to go reminisce with your uncles about the good old days.” One Direction had disbanded in 2032 after a worldwide tour. The boys, all with children by that point, wanted to have some normalcy and raise their children at home instead of the road. For their fortieth anniversary since forming on X-Factor, they did a mini reunion tour around the world, which quickly sold out surprising their children. Rolling Stones Magazine ran a special collector’s edition filled with interviews of the men and what they were up to. Cora had a hand in that and even sat down to interview the guys at their request. Cora spent the afternoon catching up with her cousins; between the five men there were 15 children and the next generation of children was starting as well. The age range between the 15 was Mollie at 30 and Braelyn at 9 years old. With the wide range of ages, there was always someone to talk to and hang out with. “Cora come on! Come play with us.” Her cousin Berto yelled kicking a football between his feet. Looking at her clothing attire, she frowned. “I’m in a dress.” “Hasn’t stopped you before Delia.” Oli grinned at his sister who simply kicked off her shoes before running barefoot into the group. Dinner quickly broke up any games going on. As always, it was an affair with so many people rushing around. Once everyone was settled, Louis smiled at the group. “Thank you for taking time out of your oh so busy schedules so you lot could come celebrate Cora and Oli’s graduation with us.” He smiled at his best friends, siblings, parents, children, and his wife surrounding him. “We are extremely proud of Oli and Cora and cannot wait to see what you two accomplish in the future. To Cora and Oli.” “Cora and Oli.” Everyone echoed, before turning back to the food in front of them. After dinner was cleared, a bonfire was quickly assembled, guitars bought from the house and a sing-a-long started. This was tradition no matter the house or occasion. A few One Direction songs were sung before moving onto modern music to appease the younger generation. That generation soon lost interest, causing focus to shift to Cora. “So you mentioned you had a surprise for all of us. Spill chica, I can’t handle the suspense.” “Way to put me on the spot, Mollie.” Cora stood up glaring at her oldest cousin. Mollie grinned. “Well then you shouldn’t have opened your mouth. I’m surprise more people aren’t bugging you, namely the mums.” “Mum already tried; I shot her down.” Cora grinned, escaping into the house quickly before returning. “So one of my final projects was write a paper on what is important to me.” “What did you pick?” Niall asked looking at his nervous niece, something that wasn’t common. Cora smiled looking around the crowded backyard at her family. “Crazy enough, I wrote about you guys, my family.” “Hopefully you stuck with the positive stuff about us.” Harry yelled causing her to laugh loudly. Cora grimaced, biting her lip. “Yeah I mean there’s some good things in there.” Her comment caused the men of the group to protest, loudly, causing everyone else in the group to laugh. “What did you get on it?” “It wasn’t graded; it was just the final piece of a semester long project.” Harry grinned, watching Cora’s shift uncomfortable at the prospect of her family reading the piece. “So can we read it or are you going to tease us?” “Yeah you can read it. I’ve got copies for each family - you get to fight for who reads it first.” Cora smirked handing out the papers to each of her uncles and father. Louis smiled at her daughter, taking the paper from her. “You nervous?” “More than when the article I did on you guys was published.” She admitted, biting her lip and looking at her dad. He nodded, giving her a quick hug. “Well this is just another step in the process. Everyone here loves you and will say nothing but positive things about this piece. If they don’t, send them my way.” The way he cracked his knuckles after the statement caused her to laugh. Soon all the papers were handed out, causing her to look anywhere but her family member’s faces. “I’m going inside, call me when you’re done.” Louis shook his head at his daughter. She had always been this way; nervous about any feedback on anything, refusing to look in your direction until you were ready to give your opinion and anxious for anything negative. Taking a seat, he grinned at Gia. “You ready to read this?” “There’s nothing incriminating in there, Louis.” Gia shook her head. “I already know I’m going to love it. She’s an amazing writer and I’m glad the world has the chance to read her words.” The Most Important Things - Cordelia Tomlinson There are lots of things important to me - my friends, my life experiences, the job that I will be accepting in the upcoming days. But there has been one constant in my life that has always been there no matter what was going on. For the past four years of uni, I have been taught that the written word holds so much power; you have the ability to make people laugh, cry, smile, question, recall memories and the power to surprise. Hopefully along these pages, there will be some surprises, some moments to cry or laugh, maybe some anger but hopefully a lot of good memories and smiling moments. I have biological aunts and uncles, galore. Mum was one of five and dad was one of seven. I have lots of biological cousins. But that’s not what this paper is about. I am one of the 15 kids that know what it was like to grow up in post heydays of One Direction. Most of my childhood, until the age of 12 was spent on a tour bus traveling around. Before I was two, my passport had more stamps on it than most businessmen. I spent my sixth birthday in New York City, ice skating in Rockefeller Plaza. I got the opportunity to do more things than other ordinary children - my classroom was a bus window; I got the hand on experiences that most adults could on dream about And along the way had the most amazing family I could have ever asked for. This paper is about them. Dad was the oldest member of One Direction, the single most successful band in the history of the X-Factor show. Him and three other guys were thrown together and the rest, they say is history. When he was put with those three other boys, he had met his three best friends to travel on this journey with. Each boy brought something unique to the group and from there, anyone who was brought into the group added a missing element and unique touch to the group as a whole. The order I’ll talk about each of my ‘uncles’ is not meant to show favoritism (but let the record show, Uncle Niall is my favorite, sorry boys!) All of my uncles were favorites at one time or another but Niall remains my favoritest ever. Speaking of Niall, we’ll start with him. He is the Irish one of the group; little blonde leprechaun. He can make you laugh no matter what kind of day you have. He’s just one of those people who is the life of the party and no matter what, is always ready for a pick up footie match, which is why I think he’s my favorite. Him and I have gone to lots of games over the years and a lot of my special times with him include food and footie. He’s married to Tricia, who is lovely and amazing (sidenote, my uncles knew how to pick incredible women to marry - they are all amazing and have put up with a lot of shit over the years). She’s a photographer, which means the camera is never far from her hands. She is just one of those laid back women, who you just want to curl up next to and spill your guts. She always had a habit of getting me to talk, even if I didn’t want to. They have three kids. Mollie Ann is the oldest of the 18 kids. Her mum is Tricia but she’s from a previous relationship but you would never know it. Her and Niall are so much alike it’s not funny. She would often join mine and Niall’s footie trips due to her being the only child of his to actually have an interest in the sport, which automatically made her “daddy’s little girl.” She often goes by Walshy, though only certain people are allowed to call her that including my dad and Niall. She was actively involved in sports, particularly football, which caused the rest of us children to practically grow up on the pitch. Saturdays were spent on the golf course, alongside her father, despite her lack of enjoyment of the sport. As a child, everyone thought she would join her mum in the journalism field but surprised us all by becoming a lawyer, despite her sweet and gentle personality. It actually made sense though because she was tougher than she looked. Her law background came in handy, especially during arguments among cousins. Patrick Frey is their second child. He is identically to his father, only difference is that Patrick is a natural blonde. Patrick is the one you go to if you have any trouble; the amount of people he knows is amazing and he’s always has the connection, no matter what you need. He was the rebellious one of the Horan family; him and his parents had a rocky relationship for about three years. His troublemaking ways led to an accident that got his younger brother in the hospital. This served as a wake-up call for Patrick, who changed his ways after that. Although he grew up to be a good son and brother, Niall still refers to him as their “handsome devil.” That’s not necessarily a bad thing, especially for someone who becomes London’s bad boy restaurateur. As an adult, Patrick bonds with his father over their shared love for food and beer (good thing he owns a handful of restaurants and bars)! Their third is Robert Henley, and goes by “Berto or Bertie, but never Bert”, per Niall, the youngest Horan was named after his grandfather. With his dark hair and blue eyes, Berto could easily charm the pants off people like his older brother, if he weren’t ridiculously shy. At age 7, he broke an arm while on a walk with Patrick, who was ambushed by school bullies. Berto was quiet; he made good grades like his sister; he often stayed in his room doodling or playing video games. Niall nearly had a heart attack when he heard his then 19 year-old son sing and play the guitar for the first time. Berto is the only one of the 18 children to pursue a career in music. Liam Payne is next. Liam is the uncle you go to when you need someone to tell you you’re being stupid or want a honest opinion. He is the most sensible of the group, but will always have your back no matter what stupid move you pulled. One of his strong points is embarrassing his own children along with his nieces and nephews without taking it too far. He is still in the music business; him and my dad opened up a production company after One Direction, where they both write and produce songs for up and coming artists. He’s married to Danielle, who is this incredible dancer and has her own studio. She used to dance with the likes of Justin Timberlake and Ellie Goulding among many, many more. She was the cool aunt that would take the older cousins backstage of the most popular tickets around London - in fact she was the one that introduced me to Justin Timberlake, much to the annoyance of my childhood friends. This is where I say I feel so bad for Liam - him and Danielle got lucky with three children, all girls. He often escapes to Niall’s house just to escape the estrogen induced household he’s built for himself. Georgina Ava is their oldest and a dancer just like her mother. Danielle had each of the three girls in dance classes before they could walk. Georgie is a big ball of hyper - identical to her father. She has performed at the Brits and even gone on tour with big names. She is never home so when we do get together, it’s usually for dinner and drinks. She loves to dream and has always kept her eye on her dreams, something I admire about her. She is dating a fellow dancer named Adam and I think I hear wedding bells in the future (sorry uncle Liam! He is just not ready to let his baby girl go just yet). Savannah Alexa Payne is the middle child; she’s a hip hop dancer who spends most of her time at her mum’s studio teaching classes. She has always been the center of the spotlight, demanding your attention to watch her spin and twirl. There are girls who love dance and then there’s Savannah who eats, breathes, and lives dance. More times than not, she has tried to teach me simple dances, but my two left feet get in the way and I end up pulling muscles or breaking bones (a broken growth plate is nothing to laugh about). She is dating the sweetest boy named Ryan, whose father is Olly Murs, much to Liam’s humor. The baby of the family is Adelaide Hope who is still in school. She is 16 and just getting into the boy phase much to the horror of her father. (For the record, all of the guys had decided early on that their daughters would not officially date until they were 16 years old), though several girls, who shall not be named (coughMollieGeorginacough), gave their father’s a hard time about that rule. Addie is daddy’s little girl. She is the sports star within their family - though her mother tried to get her into dance. She’s the pitcher of her softball team and has a wicked throw - officially schooling the boys within the family. Addie is my little buddy; anytime she’s around my flat, we are watching sports with some kind of sweet dessert, usually ice cream or cupcakes from the bakery below my flat. Harry Styles, the Greek God of One Direction (or so mum’s of my friends used to tell me - which by the way, no 12 year old ever wants to hear about her uncle!) Harry is typically around our house on any given time. He is always up for a laugh and would usually pop up at my internship at the magazine. He is a charmer, and is credited with teaching his son and the other boys within the family the fine art of flirting. He is hopelessly tied to Scarlett, who act like they’re dating more than being married. Scarlett is a Physical Therapist, which comes in handy when 7 of the 15 children are clumsy and are found most of the time in casts. Amelia Dominique is the apple in her father’s eyes. She is a daddy’s girl through and through. All she has to do is bat those long eyelashes of hers and Harry is putty in her hands. Lia is a part-time model while she is going to school for acting lessons. She has starred in a couple of commercials, her parents being very strict with what she was allowed to pursue while keeping a normal school schedule. She is leaving in July to shoot her first feature movie which she is very excited for. Amelia is my go-to lazy day person. Her and I sit around in sweatpants, watching stupid television shows that no one else will watch with us. Jackson Edward Styles was born legally deaf. Harry and Scarlett quickly learned signed language to help their young son navigate the strange world around him. The entire family learned, some of us more quickly than others. Jackson and I bonded rather quickly, both us very quick with our signing. He received cochlear implants when he was 4; I was in the room, at his request, when they were turned on and tears immediately flowed from my eyes when he recognized my voice. We have a special bond that doesn’t compare to anyone else in the family. To this day, Jackson is the one that can actually calm me down when I’m stressed beyond my pushing point. Last but not least, is my actual family. Mum and dad are crazy; I’m just going to throw that out there. I’ll tell you about my siblings before circling back to my padres. Oliver is the oldest; my twin brother. We are 12 minutes apart and he has held those twelve minutes over my head more times than I care to admit. He’s super smart and is an engineer - he just opened his own business that looks into energy sources (I don’t understand half of what he says but I still think it’s cool that he’s doing it). Oli is my go to person; despite the fact we’re twins, we’ve always been closed. He’s bailed me out more times and I’ve had to lie for him many more times. Mum and dad quickly learned they had to be a tag team when dealing with the two of us. Often times, both of us would be grounded at the same time because we would stick up for one another. Oliver is engaged (shocker!!!) to his best friend named Eleanor and they’re getting married in October. We’ll skip me for now (don’t worry that’s the good part of the story!). This is where my family gets crazy. Maisie is 20; she knows what she wants and she goes after it. At twenty, she is a part owner of a local business. Since she was legal to do so, she’s been working at a bakery (the exact bakery that is below my flat). She is a tremendous baker. Her red velvet cupcakes are to die for. She’s always been in the kitchen, since she was little, helping mum bake and cook. She’s going to make someone a very happy husband when she decides to settle down. All I have to do is text her the word ‘hummingbird’ and she knows to make me a batch of my favorite cupcakes. It’s good to know a personal baker from time to time! Asher is mum and dad’s little science geek. From the time he was little, he was always fascinated by blood, guts, and gore. Anytime any of us went to the hospital, he was always there asking the doctors questions and wanting to know everything about medicine; it's no surprise that he wants to be a pediatrician. At 18, he doesn’t know if he wants to stay in England for school or go abroad to the US. Mum has voiced her opinion on the matter but will support him in his decision, whenever he decides. My time with Asher is dinner and a movie; that’s about all the attention span he has for me, especially while his girlfriend is around. Asher is dating Amelia Styles; they are completely adorable and Harry has laid down the law more than once with Asher. (So little side story, when mum and dad were first married, they agreed on three or four children; so you’d think they’d stick with that plan right? Nah not my parents. There’s two more little bundles of joy in the house, bringing the grand total to six children in the Tomlinson family. We joke that they should have had two more to beat Nana Jay but mum doesn’t think it’s that funny of a joke!) Elodie is 13 and completely boy crazy much to the chagrin of dad. He kind of had it easy with me and Maisie but it’s biting him in the butt with Elodie. She has her eyes set on a couple of neighborhood boys, but daddy is keeping a tight leash on her until she’s 16 (he’s constantly citing that rule whenever Dee brings up the issues of boys). Other than boys, she is a major fan of music but doesn’t have any interest in pursuing a career in it. She plays guitar and drums, much to the excitement of Niall. She is more often than not found over at his house jamming the afternoon and nights away. Elodie is also my shopping buddy. She is opinionated and is not afraid to tell it like it is, which has gotten me in trouble many times. And finally, we have Braelyn, mum and dad’s oopsy child - they thought they were done with Elodie but Brae was bound and determined to make her presence known. She was a preemie baby; she was born six weeks early, spending the first four weeks of her life in NICU. She was my little fighter and now is completely healthy, happy, and footie player. At nine years old, she’s the captain of her little team and is trying out for a traveling team. She’s mum and dad’s free spirited child as well. Ninety percent of the time she doesn’t know where she’s going but she’ll figure it out when she gets there. Her flightiness has gotten her into trouble one too many times. She is more often late for appointments, something her, mum, and dad are all trying to work on. And that leaves, my mum and dad. Dad is one of my best friends. He’s usually the first one I call no matter what situation I find myself in. I’ve called him many times in the middle of the night when I’m pulling an all nighter just for a reminder that I’m alright and everything will be ok. I’ve been described as a daddy’s girl but there’s nothing wrong with that. The only thing we disagree with is our footie teams - dad’s Manchester United while I’m more of a Chelsea girl. He forgives me for that but still gives me hell about it. No matter what’s going on, he always has time for us kids; when we were little, him and mum always took us out for one on one time so we could talk about anything and everything. Mum is strong in her own right. She has to put up with a lot of crap from dad’s fans despite being married to dad for the past 24 years. Before she became a stay at home mum, she was a bombardier for the British Army; she was the lead engineer for the bombers and had to opportunity to travel to war-torn countries. She was kidnapped twice while on duty, once while dating my dad. She officially retired when she became pregnant with me and Oli. I think that’s why Oli became an engineer was because of mum’s stories. Mum has always been there with a hug and a soothing voice when things got tough. And me? I’m the one that always had her head in a book, pen to paper, and one who was shy, but that has been broken since being with the magazine. I loved traveling when I was younger and to this day, still love going places by train and plane instead of car. England will always be home but I love visiting the United States, Spain (especially Sevilla, a place significant to my parents’ relationship) and Africa. I have a puppy named Tipperary (after a region in Ireland that I fell in love with and is significant to my own relationship). I have been married for two years now - John was someone who came into my life and completely changed it. I hated him but we were forced to work on a project, and his charm and wit won me over. So I’ve written 3900 words and the question was what’s the most important to me. Well, those relationships I have with 23+ individuals is what’s important. What’s a little more important are the lessons each of those people have taught me. Growing up in the spotlight is never easy but with each of those people by my side, I’ve conquered a lot of my fears and overcome them with their love, support, and words. But my parents have always taught us to be true to who we are. And always keep those most important close to you. So in closing, if I can be half the parent my parents have been to me, I think I’ll be alright in the end. And surprise, mum and dad, you’re going to be grandparents in November. Cordelia Ann Thomas Gia looked around the backyard, looking for Cora but failed to see her. Her husband squeezed her hand to gain her attention. “She’s in the house, should we go see her?” A bright smile was stretched across Louis’ face and one was stretching across Gia’s face. “Can you believe it?” “Well it was bound to happen sooner or later.” Louis smirked at his wife pulling her into a hug. “Grandparents, can you believe it?” Gia laughed. “Nope but this day keeps getting better and better. So what’s the plan?” “Act like we didn’t read that part . . . let her actually tell us instead of us reading it.” Louis smirked knowing it would irritate his daughter. The two walked into the house to see Cora and John standing in the kitchen quietly talking. “Hey you two. Did you finish it?” “We did and it was great darling. You are a fantastic writer. Your mum cried a couple of times.” Louis hugged his oldest daughter tightly. Looking up at her dad, Cora smiled. “Anything surprise you?” “Nah not really. You made me choke up when you were describing our relationship but I love you Delia. That might be my favorite thing you’ve ever written.” Louis kissed her cheek. Gia stepped up and hugged her daughter tightly. “You’re a brilliant writer and I love it. That was one amazing piece for your final project.” “Thanks mum. Anything surprise you?” Cora looked at John, turning her attention to her parents. Gia shook her head. “Everything I knew but it was great reading it again. Your uncles got a laugh when they read what you wrote about them. And more than one of your aunts shed tears while reading their sections. That’s why you’re such a brilliant writer; you know how to play with your audience's’ emotions.” She listened to her parents go on about how brilliant of a writer she is; usually she loves listening to feedback, especially from her parents but she had dropped a bombshell in that piece and she couldn’t believe her parents hadn’t picked it up. “Ok stop.” She leaned against the counter and looked at her parents closely. “Are you two pulling my leg or something? Or is this like that hidden camera show you two love to watch?” Louis and Gia traded glances, looking at Cora in confusion. “What are you talking about? We’re praising you for your work and you’re yelling at us?” “Did you two not read the last line of the writing?” Cora took a deep breath, trying to calm down and not yell at her parents. Louis smirked, loving watching his daughter squirm. “You mean about how if you can be half the parent we were to you, then you’ll be alright?” “Yeah that line. Did you read the second part of that line?” Cora asked, John coming to stand beside her, his hand squeezing hers for reassurance. Gia shook her head. “I must have missed it. I was just so excited to tell you what I thought about the book that I just assumed it was finished.” “Well if you had read it, there was a surprise for you both in it.” Cora sighed, smiling brightly at her parents. “John and I are going to be parents in November.” Louis and Gia’s jaws both dropped before Gia squealed. “What? You’re pregnant?” “And you both are horrible actors.” John commented looking at his in-laws with a smirk on his face. Cora looked between her husband and parents. “What did I just miss?” “Your parents knew the entire time you are pregnant . . . I think they were pulling your leg, hun.” John said wrapping his arms around her in a hug. She pouted, looking at her parents. “You two are mean. Why would you do that?” “Never did I think I’d read that my oldest daughter is pregnant via her last piece as a college student.” Louis said reaching over and giving Cora a hug. “Your mum and I are thrilled for you two.” Cora’s pout was replaced by a smile. “Thanks daddy. I thought it would be a cool way for you two to find out but I guess it backfired a bit.” November 12, 2043 After 22 hours of labor, she finally got to hold her newborn in her arms. A tired smile was on her face as she looked at her parents. “You want to hold her?” Gia nodded, immediately reaching for the baby. “Oh hi little one. Oh you’re so tiny.” “You doing all right?” Louis looked at his daughter with a smile. Cora glanced at John before nodding. “Yeah sore but happy, tired, and every other emotion in the world.” “Have you decided on a name?” Gia looked between the two new parents before handing over her new granddaughter to her husband. John shrugged looking at his wife. “We’ve got it narrowed down to two names but haven’t decided on one of them yet. I think the name Cora picked is perfect for her but she isn’t sure.” “Can you tell us the two names?” Louis studied his granddaughter’s face before looking at his daughter and son-in-law. Cora smirked. “The middle name is the same but the first name is different. Evelyn or Felicity.” “Both are gorgeous names.” Gia murmured. “But I think I like Evelyn slight more than Felicity.” Handing back the baby to her mummy, Louis smirked. “I think I like Evelyn better as well.” John looked at his wife and smirked. “Well then I guess this little girl finally has her name. Nana, Papa, meet Evelyn Louisa Grant.” “Louisa?” Louis looked at his daughter with tears pricking his eyes. “You named her after me?” Cora nodded, smiling at her father. “You have been an incredible influence; I wanted our daughter to be named after someone who has had a massive impact on my life.” Lightly hugging his daughter, Louis pressed his lips to her forehead. “You have given me an amazing gift, Cordelia. I love you.” “Love you too old man.” Throughout the years, Gia and Louis’ family would grow with more in-laws, grandchildren, and animals but the love they had for each other continued to grow as well. They both had lives fulfilled with cherished memories and amazing experiences.
1007449	Film Studies	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Nicholas Angel, Danny Butterman", "Fandom": "Hot Fuzz (2007)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by azarias", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2007-12-25T00:00:00", "words": "3,947", "Additional Tags": "Yuletide 2007, Humor, Fluff, Pillow & Blanket Forts", "Relationship": "Nicholas Angel/Danny Butterman", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "Yuletide 2007", "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 wasn't at all like a movie, when Danny decided to have a go at Nicholas. No, really have a go. You know. Like the scenes Julia Roberts never did show, even though her knockers were half the point of the plot.Maybe that was why it all went bollocks-up. Should've had a proper screenwriter look over the plan. Mrs. Reather from the primary school, maybe. She'd always told him his essays showed promise, but then marked him down 'cause they "lacked focus" and "attempted to wedge commas into places no young man has any business touching." The Plan: 1.) run into Guy of Your Dreams while carrying out innocuous, work-related activity 2.) involve GOYD in activity, as by accidentally dropping something, allowing him to respond chivalrously to your flustered flapping about 3.) accept invitation to accompany GOYD to up-scale social event, to protect GOYD from society sharks who'll be flinging painful reminders of his most recent crashed relationship 4.) !!!!!!CAR CHASE!!!!!! 5.) meet GOYD's eyes meaningfully while orchestral music swells over the sounds of the gentle rainstorm you've both been caught out inSee? He wrote it all out on stickies so it'd be organized and stuck them on the edge of the coffee table where he'd see them when he woke up. Even took care not to get much of the barbeque sauce on them at supper, which wasn't an easy thing to do at all when you got a really good sandwich going and were just at the really scary bits of Dawn of the Dead.It was a simplified plan, with most of the interfering relatives, vengeful exes, and mistaken identities balled up and dropped under the coffee table. Didn't want to get too complicated on the first run-through, and besides, those parts never looked like they'd be much fun to have happen to you, even if Meg Ryan was smiling at you right after.There was a sixth sticky. It got bold red ink, instead of the thin blue of the office pen he found under the cushion and used for the rest of notes. It said only this: WOOOHOOOOO Not counting how it was circled and underlined, of course.------- Monday "Good morning, Sergeant Butterman," Nick said, which was what he always said even though he wasn't a hard-ass any more. Danny couldn't object, seeing as he liked being called Sergeant near as much as Nick liked calling him it."Mornin', mate," Danny said, which was what he always said, too, and Nick never said nothing about what Danny said in response to what he said, so Danny figured that was Nick saying he could go on saying what he was saying 'til somebody said something about how it wasn't in the vocabulary guidelines to call your chief mate first thing in the morning. And when that happened, Nick'd have something unpleasant to say to the bastard.Nick held the door open for him at the station and Danny snagged enough chocolate from the jar on Doris' desk to make breakfast for them both. Always grabbed a little extra to make Nick's share, since left to his own devices Nick lived off of salad and juice and muesli without sugar, and that just couldn't be healthy to keep up all the time, not the way Nick ran around burning calories. Danny popped the first chocolate in his mouth and went over the Plan in his head, thinking about when he should get started on it.The folder Nick dropped on the desk was heavy enough to startle Danny if he hadn't had two years getting used to the way Nick liked slamming folders around. Not to mention the way he liked to keep enough notes to give them a respectable weight, and organized them with stickies -- color-coded stickies -- of his own to keep them straight and make whoosh as they flew toward the desk. "Got a lead on that car paint keyer, Danny. Told you signing his work with smiley faces would be his downfall." Nick grinned wolfishly, or at least kind of fox terrierishly, and sat down next to Danny to eat his chocolates and explain the ambush they were going to set up for the Smiley Bandit.Danny mostly paid attention to what the corners of Nick's mouth did to keep smiling while the rest of his lips were busy talking, though he definitely heard the part about the smoke grenades.Should probably not put the Plan into the works today. Nothing at all romantic about Mondays.------ Tuesday Danny shook his head sadly and made sure his arm was secure around Nick's shoulders. Would've been awkward, with Nick being so much taller than him, except that the usual iron in Nick's spine was feeling slagged today. He was slumped down, fingertips sealing his lips in mute horror."Terrible thing," Danny said to the reporter, after his best glares didn't manage to melt the microphone down. "Fucking terrible. We caught the bastard in the end, but if we'd only been a little sooner about it ..." He sighed, a long breath still shaky with nerves, and squeezed Nick's shoulders harder. "Well, we weren't, and that's that. Only thing to do now is to pick up the pieces."In the end, the Bandit had dropped his keys in favor of heavier tools. The knife had looked like something Rambo wouldn't use for a toothpick, but it was made of solid steel and powered by the will of a madman. Under the circumstances, it had been enough.FUCK FIGS, the side of the cruiser urged in letters scratched a half-centimeter deep. The second F was kind of squiggly at the ends, like the vandal had tried to round it off to a P but got pressed for time. Beneath it, slashed so raggedly it barely looked human, was a frownie face. A full >:-( with the eyebrows and the nose and everything, and the mouth trailing off in a horrible, shallow grimace where Nick and Danny had finally run back to the parking lot and caught the Bandit in the midst of his final revenge.That kind of damage you couldn't just paint over. They'd have to get the driver's door and the fender replaced, and no telling how long the body work would be, and what if they had to drive around with some ugly primer coat for a while before they could get someone in to do the official paint job right? And the driver's door was Nick's door, and Danny couldn't even switch with him though his door was whole, 'cause you couldn't put the passenger door on the driver's side."Decent thing to do in a situation like this is to give the victim time to recover himself from the shock," Danny said pointedly. The microphone wavered, then moved decisively away.Danny took one of Nick's hands down from his partner's lips and used it to steer Nick back toward the station; the arm 'round the shoulders provided the thrust. "It'll be all right, Nicky. It'll be all right. We'll get in and get the papers processed for the arrest, and there'll be a new case to work on before you know it."A thought struck him, lighting his skull from the inside with its acuity. "Hey, we'll have to put a new name on the file, you know. Can't call him the Smiley Bandit anymore, what with that last. Good thing you thought to label it in pencil. What should the name be, you think? The Frownie Bandit's kind of derivative ..."Nick's expression was still pinched, his face hollowed by failure, but Danny could see the gears start to turn behind those brilliant eyes. Danny smiled a little, as much as the situation would let him.Plan would have to wait. It was no time for romance when your best mate was hurting.------ Wednesday Danny leaned supportively against Nick, chair to chair and knee to knee in the local's sturdy seats. A pillar of strength, that's what he was being. Making sure Nick was okay, good, fine, and also okay.Shouldn't put the Plan in the works tonight, not when Nick was completely faced and Danny was still going strong."Wouldn't be right," he told Nick seriously. "Would be taking adtanta ... advancie ... ad ... cant ... doin' wrong.""Wrong? What's wrong?" Nick asked, looking at him with wavery concern."Exactly!" The floor nodded around Danny, pleased as Danny was that Nick had taken the point. Good old Nick, always good at that telepatheticy.Thursday. Definitely start the Plan Thursday.------ Thursday Danny got home Friday a.m. and decided to forget Thursday.----- Friday He woke up Friday afternoon and remembered Thursday."Fuck."-----It didn't work, of course.Hiding beneath the table never did, not when Nick was an inspector and took the inspecting part serious. Even though Danny'd gone to the trouble of making a pillow fort around the table -- wouldn't have worked even if he'd thought to pull out the spare blankets for some heavy-duty fort construction.Danny looked stubbornly up at Nick, ignoring the awful kink he was getting in his neck from the way he had it angled over to let him squish in beneath the low table. "Hello, Nicholas. Help you with something?"The situation didn't even seem to rate an eyebrow lift from Nick. Familiarity was breeding contempt all over Danny's floor. Should probably have the rat-man come by more often."Came to see if you were sick," Nick said upside down. He'd bent slightly to look down at Danny but didn't have the decency to circle round and go right-side up. From this angle, his nose kind of looked like a birdie. "Not like you to be this late to the pub, not after missing a whole shift.""No, I'm not bloody sick!" Danny snapped, getting annoyed by the way his jaw kept jabbing into his chest and bouncing back up to clack his teeth with every syllable. He wriggled his shoulders and popped his head out from under the table. Then he kept wriggling for a moment or two, because there was an itch there that was getting scratched beautifully by the carpet. "I'm resting.""Beneath the table," Nick observed doubtfully. "Ah."His face dropped out of Danny's field of vision and the couch squeaked. Danny tried to crane his head back far enough to look at Nick, but his neck twinged that it was having none of that and besides, that was really upside down and Nick's nose looked like it was about ready to take flight. He gave up and flopped back down, addressing his speech to the ceiling."Think I'll miss the pub tonight. Need to catch up on me sleep." To demonstrate, he closed his eyes and breathed peacefully, bravely ignoring how his nose itched from the dust. Then he heard a paper rustling, and that was bad. A very small paper. A sticky one.He shot out from under the table, grabbing Nick's wrist in an iron grip and hissing at the little burn the carpet gave him on the bare patch between where his shirt had been pulled up and his trousers had been slumping down. "Hey, now! What the fuck do you think you're doing, reading a man's private .... privacy?"Nick's eyes flicked between Danny and the sticky, and didn't look even the least little bit ashamed of himself for privacy violations of the reading variety. "I'm, ah, responding chivalrously to your flustered flapping about, I think.""No you are not!" Danny protested. To get out from under the table entirely, he had to let go of Nick's wrist and heave himself up, but he snatched the sticky as soon as he was done, and collected all the rest from the table's edge, too. "You're sitting there reading and having a laugh, 'cause the Plan went straight to hell and you think I'm an idiot and some kind of homo pervert 'cause I didn't even stop to check if you like guys before I started, which is a thought that occurred to me just now, and I'm sure you've never so much as stuttered your lines when you asked your ladies out on a date, or your blokes if you've had them.""I have.""Um?" Danny asked, interrupted before he could list more woes."Blokes. Well, bloke." Now he managed some kind of contrition, and it wasn't even for anything he'd done wrong. "Back before police training. Ended badly. Hardly worth mentioning. And, ah, it's lady, too. Not ladies."Danny stared at him, lips twisted in disbelief. "You're joking, right? You being from the big city, first, and you've been here for coming on two years, and I know the girls haven't been ignoring you. I mean, Doris -- well, village bicycle and all, but she's a good heart and doesn't try to warn any of the other women off when she fancies a man, which is good else she couldn't do any police work for all the patrolling she'd have to be doing -- but there's that new girl down at the petrol station, and that one who comes through with the circus, and the barber's sister, and --""Which is all well and good," Nick cut him off. There was a deep flush taking over his face, like his nose-bird had gone splat against a window and was leaking blood everywhere.Honestly, even Danny thought that image was disgusting."Except that every one of them is waiting on me to ask her out. Even the circus girl, and given that she rides around on the back of a lion you'd think she'd be more of a modern woman ready to assert herself in a relationship. And, well, I won't." Nick crossed his arms and looked stern, like he wasn't saying one word more on the subject."Why not?" Danny asked.The immediate answer was, "Because I don't fucking want to!"The (quieter) answer just after that was, "Because I never quite worked out how one does so without looking like an ass."And the next (mumbled) one was, "And even if I did, those aren't candidates I'd be interested in. Until quite recently, I didn't know that anyone I took interest in reciprocated that interest.""That's interesting," Danny acknowledged. Momentarily, hearing the little note of lonely in Nick's voice, he forgot he was supposed to be annoyed at Nick for reading his Plan. Or dying of embarrassment after yesterday's terrific cock-up of a seduction attempt. Or angry at the failure of his hide-under-the-table recovery strategy. He reached out a hand to touch Nick's arm, then switched and used the other one when he realized the first was covered in sticky notes."Anyway, I suspect you know all about that," Nick said wearily, and Danny probably should have thanked him because there was the annoyance pounding up again, with the anger and embarrassment in hot hot hot pursuit. Danny was on his feet, looking down at Nick for once, and not even stumbling over a pillow when he jumped up so quick."What? You think just 'cause I'm a fatarse and talk to me film collection and m'Dad still sends me birthday cakes from gaol, I've got to be a virgin, too? How much Cosmo have you read, man?" He looked at Nick, mouth pinched tight, for as long as his could before his eyes kinda slipped and fell right off Nick's face and down to the floor, not even stopping to ogle his man-bits on the way. Stupid man-bits. Could use 'em for a towel rack but they couldn't stop your eyeballs going splat on the floor.Danny mumbled the last bit, because half his mouth didn't want to say it and the other half was telling that half to piss off and go get laid never again. "It's just I've never wanted to do it proper, before. You know?"Nick seemed not at all bothered to have Danny looming over him, which took half the fun out of looming right there. In fact, he was just kind of looking Danny up and down, not in any kind of hurry. "I ... see. And 'proper' procedure in this case is ...""Well, romantic like. Like I already told you. Weren't you listening?" He waved his right hand in Nick's face, with the little yellow papers fluttering. "All there on the stickies, all set up for yesterday. Except there was that stupid robber with his stupid xylophone and the stupid goat that attacked the xylophone and then that gun violation for Mr. Murphy shootin' the goat in front of those three Hari Krishnas who went into hysterics, and then --""Awful lot of paperwork.""Right. Fucking awful. ('cept the dust-up with the vicar and those Swiss tourists. That part was hilarious.) And no fucking at the end to make it all all right."Nick's lips were pursed and prim, like they'd been stung by a bee and were waiting to get kissed better. Danny wasn't helped shutting up by thoughts like that, so he just kept going. "Not that just fucking was what I wanted, you know, 'cause you're special and I'm pretty much as in love with you as I could stand to get already, but some fucking would go a long way to redeeming the whole mess. And my hand's still cramping from that load of papers, so it's not like I can close my eyes and take care of myself, myself.""And furthermore!" Danny said, waving his arms to burn off some of the passion surging up his throat, "Furthermore! It never. even. rained. This is bloody Gloucestershire. The fucking sun was fucking shining all fucking week. Tell me, please: what the fuck?""Well, I think you buy me a drink first.""Okay!" Danny agreed, throwing his arms up again for another swing. "Wait, what?""Well." Nick stood up to face him, and Danny was too busy with the whating to notice he'd lost his perspective advantage. Nick tapped the sticky notes on Danny's hand without looking to see which one he was touching, so Danny didn't figure it was important to tell him it was the WOOOHOOOOO, which had been Danny's favorite one by far until it all went pear-shaped."You've got this all plotted out in sequence. (Though it probably would have benefited you to write them on larger slips. Had to squint to make some of the words out.) You carried most of it out yesterday, despite unfortunate events. Started from step one -- that urn was heavy, by the way.""Yeah, sorry," Danny said. "I'd meant to put it on the table and just knock off a few papers on the way, but I got startled by that jack-in-the-box.""Mmm. Try just splashing a little coffee on me next time. Not hot, please and thank you. That way you get to feel me up while making your apologies and trying to wipe the stain off my trousers.""Right," Danny agreed, then blinked. "Wait --"Nick didn't. "But if I understand correctly how these things work, before anything serious happens you're supposed to buy me a drink first. Oh, and dinner."Danny's mind had gotten to rolling the coffee idea around, particularly the feeling-up-Nick's-trousers part of it. So his eyes were a little glassy and his voice a little distance when he asked, "Yeah?""Yes. Also, telling me you had, ah, interest in me would have best been done earlier. Particularly intimate interest, you know. Though I suppose I have no room to talk, considering I haven't ... Well, we seem to be clearing all of that up, don't we?" There the blush was back, just as vivid as before, though this time it looked kind of like a halo surrounding the shy smile that was pushing Nicholas' lips around. A bright, red, bird-blood halo.Right, time to stop with that metaphor. Nick's nose didn't really look like a bird from this angle, anyhow. Unless he tilted his head a little. But still, any bird attached to Nick's face would be very much alive, thank you."That's what I meant, you know. Earlier. About not knowing that you were being fancied by someone you fancy. I mean, it's been two years, hasn't it? And I've never told you --""Hang on, hang on," Danny said, motioning Nick to really hang this time instead of just steaming right along. "Two years? Huh. And here I've only been looking your way since the raffle for the school intramural --"Nick's eyebrow went to have a meeting with his hairline. "The raffle? But, Danny, that was only three weeks ago."Danny shrugged. "I know, I know. I'm a slow mover sometimes, right?""But I've been -- it was -- two years, and I fell --" Only about one mouth movement in three managed to make an actual word. He didn't stop that soon, he was going to bite something on accident and Danny wasn't sure where his first aid kit was. Nick probably had bandages in his pocket, though, so it'd be all right."Didn't say that's when I fell in love for you, man. Thought you knew that. Just that's when I started to think I could maybe do something with it. Like maybe I wanted to really kind of bad. You remember how I had to have my hands all over your arse, to get you up that ladder while you was carrying that stuffed goose for the archery? Gets a man thinking about things, that does. Day and night." He coughed. "Made patrolling with you some kind of awkward. Which might be why my brain never did it to me before, come to think.""Ah," Nick said. His teeth weren't making things dangerous for his tongue anymore, so you'd think he'd say more than that. In fact, he was starting to smile again, so that probably accounted for him being less speechy than he ought to be. Took time for smiles to get all of his mouth involved, usually. "Well. I guess I'm less efficient than you are, Sergeant Butterman."Danny all but glowed. With Nick saying his name that way, it was really lucky he didn't catch on fire. "Ah. Inspector Angel, could I buy you a drink? And maybe dinner? They've got this fucking fantastic sausage sandwich down the block, you have to see it to believe it and then you're too busy eatin' it to think on it too hard." He paused to pick the sticky notes off his hand before holding it out for Nick.When Nick took his hand, their gun-calluses rubbed together, and for once Danny didn't wonder about whose were bigger. "My pleasure, Danny," he said, and pulled Danny towards the door. "Oh, you should compliment me, too. I respond very well to flattery. You should start with ... hmm. Let's start with an easy one. Eyes. I've got a nice set. Should be easy to come up with some pretty phrases for them.""Your eyes are really pretty," Danny said immediately. "And good for seeing. Shooting, too. Fuck, you're hot when you shoot things, you realize?"Nick's smile went all lop-sided, and he squeezed Danny's hand. "Consider me seduced, mate. Well and truly seduced." THE END P.S. There was still one note stuck to his hand. He didn't notice it until well after dinner, to tell the truth, when Nick pointed it out and also pointed out that right then would be a bad time for either of them to get paper cuts, and also that they had some very vulnerable areas in immediate danger.He pulled it off and let it fall to the floor where it'd be safe and he could find it again. WOOOHOOOOO
1045982	The Four Familiars	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, Rowena's raven", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by RembrandtsWife", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-11-15T00:00:00", "words": "638", "Additional Tags": "Hogwarts Founders Era, Animals, Familiars, Pets", "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 }	According to Hogwarts: A History, the Four Founders of Hogwarts each had a noble beast as a companion. Godric Gryffindor had a lion as tame as a housecat. Salazar Slytherin had a terrifying serpent which coiled about him meekly like a silver collar. Helga Hufflepuff was accompanied everywhere by a faithful badger. And Rowena Ravenclaw had a mighty eagle which came at her call and ate from her hand. So says the official history, at any rate. But the prologue of Hogwarts: A History is closer to legend than to history, and legends are apt to get garbled, miscopied, misconstrued, and even selectively edited. Godric Gryffindor did not possess a lion as tame as a housecat. He had, in fact, a housecat: A massive beast, ginger-gold with a thick ruff of fur round its neck, a superb mouser. He named it Leo, which of course means "lion", because it resembled a lion. Some things lose in translation, but occasionally, things gain. Slytherin actually possessed a tiny dragon, a stunted creature the size of a very large parrot that liked to sit on his shoulder. It could not spit fire or venom, but it was able to fly quite well. Little Tahneen, as he called the beast (which is the Moorish word for a dragon), notably disliked Gryffindor and his students, and it was a vicious biter. Helga Hufflepuff was one of those people who cannot allow an animal to suffer. Her rooms were always filled with creatures both ordinary and magical who were recovering from some ailment. Among her animal companions, a goat, a badger, and a hedgehog were her favorites and helpers in her magical work. The hedgehog accompanied her constantly, often riding in her bosom. It is not known why she called the hedgehog "Martin", but it is believed to have some connection to the great saint of that name. Similarly, Rowena Ravenclaw was always surrounded by birds. (If there was anything on which Godric and Salazar agreed, it was that Rowena and Helga just had Too Many Pets.) She mastered the art of enchanting owls as messengers, since unlike the doves and pigeons who were formerly used, they could defend themselves against attack. She obtained a number of parrots from distant lands, many of whom learned to speak and would shout the words of brief spells such as "Lumos!" or rude sayings such as, "Godric is a dickhead!" and, "Shut up, Salazar!" Her true familiar, however, was a raven, by whom she obtained her by-name. (The name of her family has long been forgotten.) It was a clever and mischievous creature which could talk better than any parrot (and, indeed, likely taught its mistress's parrots what they knew). It would eat from her hand or her lips, beg treats from friendly visitors, join in conversation as a child might, and contrive to leave large and smelly droppings on the shoulders of unfriendly guests (Gryffindor being its favorite target). When the first Chronicles of Hogwarts were being written, it was Gryffindor's son Albus who directed the chronicler to say that Ravenclaw had possessed an eagle, not a raven. "No more bloody ravens in this school! Write that it's an eagle, no one will try to tame one of those." There is a story, not written down but passed down by word of mouth among the students of House Ravenclaw, that Albus Gryffindor cast a spell to banish birds, except for owls, from alighting on the stones of Hogwarts. Nevertheless, there may always be found ravens roosting on the west tower which once housed Rowena's eyrie, and which now contains the Ravenclaw common room and dorms. ("I told him that spell would never work," said Slytherin's daughter Saleema. "You know he'll never admit that," said Hufflepuff's son Hakon. "Gryffindors," said Ravenclaw's raven, and pooped on the windowsill.)
1041452	unknown	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": null, "Characters": null, "Fandom": null, "Language": null, "Rating": null, "author": null, "chapters": null, "completed": null, "published": null, "words": null, "Additional Tags": null, "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 }
1030400	Detective in the TARDIS	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Tenth Doctor, Daleks, Donna Noble, Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Jim Moriarty", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by SuperWhoLock137", "chapters": "4/?", "completed": "", "published": "2013-11-03T00:00:00", "words": "936", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV)", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	"Sherlock, can you stop?" asked a very frustrated John Watson at ten o'clock p.m. as his flatmate once again picked up his violin and launched into a piece of his own composition."I'm thinking, John." Replied Sherlock, lowering his bow and looking up at John. "This helps me think."John sighed, put the newspaper he had been reading on the coffee table and got up from the sofa. "Alright, you carry on thinking. I'm going to bed." He said, pointing a finger up, to indicate his bedroom. Sherlock made no response and continued playing, as if John hadn't spoken. "Sherlock?" John tried. "Sherlock did you hear me?" No response. "Sherlock, can you hear me?" Still no response, "Sher – oh never mind" ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The next morning, John Watson woke up to the sound of unfaltering violin. He went downstairs and into the living room, yawning. "Did you sleep at all, Sherlock?" No response. 'Well', John thought to himself, 'he isn't exactly talkative when we're in the middle of a case. Actually, he's never talkative.' Suddenly, Sherlock threw his violin on the chair and flopped onto the sofa, his hands pressed together under his chin. "Bloody mind palace", John muttered to himself while spreading his favourite strawberry jam on a piece of toast.They sat like this for a while; Sherlock with his eyes closed and who-knows-what going at 100 miles her hour through his head, and John at the table, eating toast with jam and wondering what was going to happen on that day's episode of Parade's End when they both heard a noise, weeeeewwwwwwooooooooooooooweeeeeeeeeeewo, from outside their flat. John jumped up, rushed to the window, and saw a big blue box that wasn't there last night. "Sherlock?" ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Hello? Is anyone in there? Hello?" called John Watson, standing in front of the blue police box, knocking loudly. Sherlock was crouched at the base, taking pieces of dust and squinting at them, his brow furrowed in concentration. Suddenly, the door opened and Sherlock straightened himself immediately."Doctor?" said a female voice from inside the box. "This is London. We're in London. Why are we in London?" She sounded angry, but it also sounded fake somehow – like she was pretending to be mad. A woman with red hair and a slightly cocky look on her face emerged from the box, followed by a tall man in a semi-formal pinstriped brown suit."Who are you?" The red haired woman asked a bit rudely, catching sight of Sherlock, who was staring at her intently. ''More bloody deductions' John thought to himself."Temp from Chiswick" Sherlock said, looking bored and intrigued at the same time.'"Of course" John Watson muttered to himself"How do you know that?" the red haired woman asked indignantly as if she was actually expecting a straight answer from Sherlock. "Doctor, do you know him? Did you tell him about me?" She crossed her arms over her stomach and turned towards the man in the suit. He was watching this little scene with raised eyebrows and an amused expression."Donna, this is Sherlock Holmes. Be nice." He said."What? No! The Sherlock Holmes? The bloke with the magnifying glass and pipe? RDJ?""No, Donna. This is a parallel dimension, one of many – so, not your London. It's the same as your London but… different."Donna looked confused but said nothing. Sherlock, who had been staring at The Doctor with the same intense expression that he had used on Donna minutes before, looked as confused as his pride would let him "Who – no – what are you?" he inquired."Sherlock!" John exclaimed in disbelief"I'm a Time Lord – the last of my species – from the planet Gallifrey." He started, looking grave. "The box is my TARDIS. It's bigger on the inside and can go anywhere in time and space." He pointed to the blue box. "The TARDIS bought me here on an emergency setting that I've never seen before so whatever's going on here, it got to be big. Really big. The TARDIS didn't do this when Daleks were invading Manhattan so think Earth-turns-into-a-big-pile-of-ash big." He said, looking around hopefully as if he was expecting that anyone had seen or heard anything strange. All he got was one scared face, one bored, and one expressionless (Sherlock's of course)."He talks a lot" said Donna ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “This tea’s great Dr. Watson.” Commented The Doctor after Mrs. Hudson made ‘Sherlock and his friends’ come inside for tea and biscuits. It had started raining, and the pattering of raindrops on the windowsill diminished the need for productive conversation. “Call me John, please.” Replied John, also holding a tea mug. They were silent again until John said “So we’re facing a big threat?” “Yes.” Said The Doctor “But you don’t know what it is?” “No.” “And it could destroy London.” “We’re thinking a little bigger than London. Try everything west of China.” The Doctor said with a grimace. They sat silently for a minute more when suddenly the TV crackled to life; its screen transforming from grey to an almost familiar shape. The Doctor and John both jumped up from the sofa; The Doctor brandishing his sonic screwdriver, and John wielding his gun. The shape on the TV took a definite form, a familiar form. The form of a big bronze dome, with flashing lights and a long eyestalk. Donna wheeled around to face The Doctor, who had a look of utmost bewilderment on his face, but mixed with something else. Something that looked like fear. “Doctor? Doctor that’s a – a -.” Started Donna, lost for words. “A dalek.” Supplied The Doctor in a hushed whisper.
1004431	Living History	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Demons (Supernatural), Castiel, Hael (Supernatural)", "Fandom": "Supernatural", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by MeltingPenguins (lilmaibe)", "chapters": "8/8", "completed": "2013-11-25", "published": "2013-10-14T00:00:00", "words": "10,969", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Mindfuck, Don’t copy to another site", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Everything you know is wrong", "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 }	Night, a country road somewhere in New England. Dean was drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel, drawing a face as if he was short of biting it. "Two words", he finally hollered, instantly drawing his brother's attention, and holding up two fingers, eyes fixed in a warning glare on the road ahead. "What happened?" Sam sighed and combed his fingers through his hair, rolling his eyes as if he tried to follow the movement, waiting patiently for Dean to continue after the rhethorical question. And Dean did continue: "Six hours ago I was sitting with you in the hospital with you dying, and then -bam- we wake up in a Motel in the middle of Massachusetts." Sam leaned back in his seat. What they knew for certain was this: They knew they had no idea where or how Castiel was, they knew they somehow had missed how they lost Crowley, they knew the angels were pissed, but what they knew with absolute certainty was that they didn't have the slightest clue what happened. "Maybe it had something to do with the trial or..." Sam tried, grasping for straws. "Glove compartment", Dean suddenly interrupted in all seriousness. "What?" "What?" "You said glove compartment." "Did not." "Did too." "Why?" To avoid any further argument Sam opened the place in question, producing a neatly folded letter. "Probably this... 'Dear Sam, dear me’" he started reading, "Things got rebooted because you were acting like the guys that die in the Prologue. Dean'" "What?" "'S your writing" Dean snatched the letter. "Son of a... What’s that supposed to mean now?” “Beats me.” Dean’s eyes flicked between the road and the letter. “‘PS: If you meet E. stab him in the face’” he read before frowning “Tell you what, Sam: Next time I write a letter to myself remind me to explain things.” Sam was about to answer when something on the road ahead caught his attention. It was a woman, staring bewildered at the car approaching, holding something in her hand. “Dean!” There was no chance to stop in time. The Impala screeched to a hold and both brothers turned around, looking at the road behind them. There had been no sound indicating they had hit something, no impact, no nothing. “Dude”, Dean blinked, “We just ran over a ghost, right?” “I’d say so.” “Well”, Dean started the engine again, only to move the Impala further to the side of the road. “Let’s have a look.” Sam scrambled after his brother as Dean left the car, heading for the trunk. “Dean, hold up. What did you say in the letter? The Prologue-Guy thing?” But Dean had already snatched stuff from the trunk: “Prologue-Guys”, demonstratively he racked he slide on the shotgun he was holding, accompanied with a shit-eating grin, “Are short on these.” Sam smacked his lips and followed, armed with a gun and flashlight. It didn’t take long till they did find something indeed. Not a ghost, but not too far from where they had ran into and through the apparition, lay a small heap of ashes. Far too little for anything the size of a human, not really anything usual for a ghost, and especially not with bits of paper in them. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- There was this restaurant in South Hadley, Massachusetts. On an usual day, it’d be a fine place to eat. People would come, people would go. People would not, on an usual day, suddenly jump up from their seat choking and screaming, short to throwing up, as they had just discovered a few human teeth in their meal. “I know where we’re not going to eat,” Dean announced and heavily sat down on his brother’s motel bed, waking that one. Sam, in return, made a grunting sound, akin to ‘Wsflg?’. “Read this.” With the speed of a continental drift Sam sat up, rubbed his eyes and shook his head at his brother, before taking the newspaper Dean had thrown him. “‘A biting smack’,” Sam read, “‘Last Night, ‘Elliot’s Bar&Grill’ in South Hadley, was the site of a gruesome discovery as a number of guests found human teeth in their meals. As there was no evidence for a crime, the local police suspects someone playing a cruel prank on the restaurant.’” Sam frowned, still in the process of waking up. Hunter or anything else he had seen and done or not, this was no news he wanted to read on an empty stomach. The grin Dean gave him made clear that Dean was fully aware of that. “The best part”, Dean said then, “That’s the fifth time in a month that happened." Sam furrowed his brows. “Why exactly are you showing me this?” “Thought it’d be nice to know that the world’s still weird,” Dean rose again and stretched. Sending his brother a long, cold look, Sam shook his head again. “Dean, what is it?”, he asked dryly. Dean rolled his eyes and frowned, and sat back down on his bed. “It’s the fact that we’re here,” he grunted, “We ought to be somewhere else, I just know it. I mean, you should be in hospital, Crowley should be in the trunk and we should be anywhere but here. I want to know what happened, Sam. I want to know who healed you. I want to know who took Crowley. And I want to know where Cas is.” Dean dug his fingers into the bedsheet, glaring at nothing in particular. Not angry. Not enraged. Confused, yes. Maybe even a little bit worried. And very annoyed. He had been in this mood since they had woken up in another motel about a day back, no recollection of what happened. Then the almost-encounter of the night before had happened, and Sam had urged his brother to spent the night at the next motel, before anything else went awry. Why exactly he did that, he couldn’t tell. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen Dean in that mood after all. “Do you think I don’t want answers, too?” Sam responded, “When stuff like this happens…” He was abruptly cut off as a terrified scream rang from outside. Exchanging a quick and alarmed look Sam and Dean rushed outside, just in time to see a young woman storm out of her room, clad in nothing but a towel and drenched in blood. “That… does beat the tooth story” observed Dean, brows quirked. The woman’s name was Hazel. She was 27, here on a holiday, and currently shaking all over, wrapped up in a thick bathrobe in the motel’s office. By now the police was there, too, and she was telling what had happened. “I just wanted to take a shower”, she had said, clutching a cup of tea, “And then there was all this blood…” The officer that had been talking to her, turned to her colleague as they left the building a little later, leaving the manager to take care of Hazel. “Same thing as over in South Hadley two weeks back”, Sam and Dean, who were standing nearby, having listened to the conversation, overheard her say, “This is getting creepy, if you ask me.” As the officials got back into their car, Dean nudged his brother, who had just returned from sneaking into Hazel’s room. “Heard that?” “South Hadley. The town from the papers. Dean, I checked, her whole bathroom is covered in blood.” “And our water was fine. Tell you what. Teeth in someone’s meal could be a prank, but water turning to blood in several places but not at all of all those places at once screams ‘get a hunter’ to me.” Sam nodded. “Me too. Let’s go.” “Agents Blackpoole and Sterling, Sir”, Dean introduced himself and Sam to the man living at the house with the number 231. “Could we talk to you about your daughter?” There was the obligatory ‘I already told’-dialogue on the way into the living room, but once they were seated, the man, a Mister Lake (43-years old, married to Martha Lake, father of two), began to tell his story again. He had sat down heavily, bent forward, wringing his hands. It took him a moment, filled with frowns and head shakes. “Mr Lake, we believe what happened to your daughter was done by someone pulling similar pranks on various other people and institutions in the area,” said Sam, flipping open a notebook. “Like that thing with the teeth at Elliot’s?” “Like that. Please tell us what happened and what you know.” “Jenny’s still all shaken up”, Mr Lake said. “Can’t blame her. Have you ever taken a shower and suddenly all that was coming from the pipes was pig’s blood?-” he rubbed his forehead. “She came here for Martha’s -my wife, her mother- birthday all the way from New York. She’s a model, you know? Very busy one. But never failed to make space for our birthdays. We wanted to go out for dinner and she just wanted to take a quick shower to get ready. Martha, Toby -our son- and I had showered before and all was fine, but then… Who would do such a thing?” Mr Lake drew a face clearly indicating that he was trying to make sense of something that made no sense at all. “That’s what we are here to find out”, Dean answered, smiling a trust-winning smile. “I can’t help you with anything new, however. So you think there’s someone out there putting blood in water pipes and teeth in patties? That’s disgusting.” “Somewhat, Sir,” said Dean and rose, “Did you notice anything odd that evening?” “Nothing,” said Mr Lake, but then leaned back, starting to think, “That is… When we cleaned the shower then… No, I don’t think that has anything to do with that.” “No, please go ahead and tell us. Everything might be important.” Mr Lake eyed the two sitting opposite of him for a moment, before sighing, “It’s really dumb. There were burned bits of paper all over the bathroom. But they probably flew in from outside. Someone burning things or what do I know.” Sam and Dean exchanged meaningful looks, after which they thanked Mr Lake for his help and left. “Burned paper…”, Dean stated as they walked down the stairs leading up to number 231, “Just like when we ran over that ghost. Do we know any ghosts that vanish in pieces of burned paper?” “I’d be worried ‘bout something else.” “And what?” “That blood in the motel was not pig’s blood, Dean. And I doubt it was here either.” “That’s bad news. Okay, I’ll go to that restaurant and check for things there and you… Whoa!” Dean staggered backwards, bumping into his brother. They had just passed a small alley. There were a few other people around and it was sheer coincidence that Dean had looked that way that moment. A moment earlier or later and he, like all the others that had passed by the alley before, would have missed what lay there, covered under soggy cardboard and wooden planks. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “The picture we’re getting here’s nasty.” Dean leaned back on the motel bed, fiddling with his phone. “Teeth in food, blood in the shower, and women gutted like fish in alleys.”“Not really anything we’ve seen.”Sam shook his head, scrolling through the search results that had just come up. There was nothing comparable. There were many creatures hungry for human flesh, blood and guts, but none of them really ever went to collect the blood to pour it down some poor folks’ waterpipes, or put the teeth into a meatgrinder.“Think we found something new?”“That or some other bastard is having too much time on his claws.”“Who’re you calling?”Dean looked up, appearing a little miffed and a little alarmed.“Tried getting Kevin on the line, see if there’s anything like that in the Men Of Letters’ books.”“But? Is he not picking up?”Shaking his head, Dean dialed another number. The next moment Sam’s own phone rang.“Are you calling me?” Sam raised a brow.“Yeah. Just checking. When I try any number for Kevin, I just sit there and stare at my phone, doing nothing,” Dean rolled his shoulders “I don’t like that.”“Well, Victor told us not to call the bunker for a while…”“What?” Dean drew a face as if Sam had just announced that he’d resurrect the Archangels to start a cheese-themed wedding planner business in Denmark with them.“What?”“Victor who?”“What?”“You just said Victor said --”“Who is Victor?”“That’s what I’m asking you.”They sat in silence for a while, just staring awkwardly at each over. Then, almost simultaneously they shook like under a cold shower.“Let’s get back to the blood and teeth,” Dean said, putting the phone away and looking close to just checking his mental health by doing one of those magazin psych-tests. Sam didn’t look much better. At least till he found what he’d been looking for. Or better yet, didn’t.“Nothing,” he sighed and leaned back, obviously frustrated. “At least nothing violent. A number of former house owners haunting their old homes, but they all seem pretty domestic. One report’s on a ghost washing the dishes.”“That’s handy. Certain it wasn’t after a nice meal of human intestines?”“Nope. No vengeful spirits, no ghouls, no nothing that would explain what we have here,” with another sigh Sam closed his laptop and scratched his head. “What if…”, he then started, drawing Dean’s attention, “What if we’re not dealing with one thing here, but two, or three?”“Think that’s the case?”“No… no, not really. If it was there’d be stuff drawing them all here and there’d be a lot more blood.”“Yeah. And what now?”Sam’s response was a shrug, “Beats me. Guess we’ll wait till they find out who that woman you found was and then go from there.”“Good,” Dean leaned back against the head of the bed and crossed his arms. “In the meantime we can get back to that other question: Who is Victor?”“What?”“Look, Sam, you said ‘Victor told us not to call the bunker for a while’. That’s a damned random thing to say.”“I didn’t say that.”“You very well did.”“Yeah”, Sam huffed and wrinkled his nose, “Just like you said ‘Glove compartment’ the other night.”“I did not say that.”“You did and then we found a letter you wrote.”“I don’t like this, Sammy. What is this? Paycheck?”“We should just eat something”, Sam resigned, “And then get some sleep.” Meanwhile, entirely elsewhere. Two people were sitting together. One was the angel Hael. The other was a young man, remotely handsome, with dark skin and short black hair.“I suppose it makes sense,” Hael said, clutching at a cup of tea. The past days had been stressful. She felt as if… the best comparison that came to mind was a wrong but working part being replaced with a proper one in her head. She was certain she had run into Castiel. But the encounter felt more as if she had … dreamed it. But she had met this man, another angel for all she knew, who had told her to calm down and had then invited her to tea. They had had a long talk about things angelic, and the state of everything in general, and were only now coming to a conclusion.The man smiled.“As I said, it’s hard to buy that those that have to ask for a host can’t properly maintain them, while every demon can possess who- and whatever they delight.”Hael nodded again, sipping her tea. The other had told and shown her how to keep her vessel healthy, and explained to her that it’s never their inability to hold the power, but the angel’s sins that burn through them. Fall victim to the ways of hell and the body suffers. The stronger the sin, even if you aren’t aware of committing it, the stronger it burns.And he had been right.“And what shall I do now?”, Hael asked, placing the empty cup on the table.The other shrugged, “Go help people. Have some innocent fun. maybe even kick some demons back to Hell,” he smiled again. “But you should keep away from Castiel and the Winchesters. For your sake and for theirs. Hold no grudge.”Hael nodded. Ever since meeting this man, she assumed he must have been very high-ranking, even if she still had no idea who he was, she felt as if everything she knew was wrong.“Now,”, the man said, his eyes flashing dark blue for a moment, “What do you say. Shall we go to the Grand Canyon?” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Agents Blackpoole and Sterling”, Dean introduced himself and Sam again, this time to the local coroner. “Could we get a look at the body found by the parking lot yesterday?”The doctor, a small woman with black curly hair tied up in a bun, looked at them and their IDs for a moment, before giving an apologising sigh.“You were there when they found her, weren’t you? If you didn’t get a look at her then I fear I have to disappoint you”, she said. When the reaction to this was a confused look she continued, “This… will sound like I’m crazy, but she vanished.”“Vanished?”, Dean echoed, with the additional question mark.“When we came into here this morning, the whole place smelled as if someone had burned something. We thought the worst, but then found everything was alright. Till we located the source of the smell.”“Our Jane Doe, correct?”, asked Sam.“Yes.”“And in her place you found what?”“Nothing but burned bits of paper. Same about her belongings.”Sam and Dean exchanged meaningful looks, before Dean asked for a copy of the report. “Are you seeing a pattern here, Sammy, because I sure don’t”, Dean muttered once they were back outside, heading back for the motel. Sam was reading over the autopsy report, his brows furrowed. At first, he didn’t hear his brother.“Sam?”“Huh? What?”“Does this make any sense to you? All that stuff turning into nothing but burned paper? The thing on the road, the blood in the shower, now a whole corpse…”“And the teeth. Was in the paper this morning. ‘Evidence vanished from Sheriff’s office’.”“There you have it. What kind of thing does that?”Sam stopped and looked at his brother, “Don’t know… but…”“But?”Sam’s eyes were fixed on the report, even as they got back in the car. Something about it sounded extremely familiar to him. He just couldn’t put his finger on it. All it did was giving him a headache.“So what about our Jane Doe?”Sam made a short humming noise and summarised the report:“She had been punched or held down with force. Five teeth missing, slight laceration of the tongue, various bruises in the face. Her throat has been cut, large vessels on both sides severed,” he made a fitting gesture with one hand. “Then whatever killed her slashed her stomach open.” He flipped through the papers again, “But no organs missing, no bite marks, no...”With a huff Dean cut his brother off.“So again, what are we dealing with here? We have teeth in the burgers, blood in the shower, some ghost lady in the middle of the street and a vanishing mutilated corpse in an alley. And all of them go -poof- and become a pile of ash and bits of paper.”“Your guess is as good as mine?. But this report…”“What about it?”, Dean responded, driving off, back to the motel.“I don’t know. I think I saw it somewhere already.”“Are you telling me you’re having a Déjà View?”“Vu. And no, not like that. More like I read this in a book somewhere else once, but I can’t remember where or what it was about.” Once again, entirely elsewhere, but not as far away elsewhere as before There was a stack of books on late victorian England. Right next to a stack of tissues and a cup of still hot tea.“No, I’m fine”, a young, rather male, and very ill-sounding voice said, before its owner sniffed first and then blew his nose. “Still got some. … What? No, that idea was great,” another sniff, “Talk to you later, meds kicking in.”And he hung up, frowned, sneezed and crawled under the blanket again. Further away elsewhere again “Well, if you say so…”, the man, a farmer and actually an angel, took off his cap and scratched his head, sighing thoughtfully as the new information proceeded through his mind.This man -young, remotely handsome, with dark skin and short hair- had shown up about an hour ago and had talked to him about Castiel and the Winchesters. He appeared to be an angel, as well, a high-ranking one and one that had apparently done a lot of thinking.“The Winchesters aren’t the enemy,” the man with the oddly decorated crutch said, smiling. “If you want to get back to Heaven, I can only give you the advice I gave you.”“So I stay out of their way, and if that ain’t possible…”“Be kind. Talk. Negotiate. Be honest. You’re an angel, Ris. As such your wrath, if you feel it should be righteous, not the kind found in the Pit. You have no reason to hold a grudge against Castiel or the Winchesters. No one has. And now, farewell.”“Huh… Yeah… Farewell.”And the odd man left. “Hah!”, Sam smiled triumphantly at his laptop.“Got something?”Dean shuffled around the table to his brother’s side looking at what that one had found. Open on Sam’s monitor was a page of some small model agency.“Weren’t you looking for the autopsy report?” Dean asked, grinning.“Yes, but I couldn’t find anything. Then I did a search on the victim from the other motel, and look at this. She’s a model. Just like...”, he switched to a different tab, “Miss Jennifer Lake.”“The other blood shower victim.”“Yes. And get this”, another tab, this time a short article, “The motel wasn’t the only place that stuff happened. There’s been another victim of a bloody bath here in South Hadley. Linda Bayfield, 67.”“67?”, Dean squinted at the monitor in disbelief, “If she’s 67 I want to get the name of her anti-aging lotion.”“Dean, please,” Sam sighed, “But you might laugh: I wondered about that too. And she’s been a small town beauty queen in the 60’s. Says she’d been taking a bath and closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them again the water had turned to blood. She suffered a heart attack and is now at the hospital, after her grandson Michael found her. He confirms the story about the bath.”“So two models and an ex-beauty queen. What does that make?”“A connection. At least.”“We’re dealing with a monster that’s targeting pretty women?”“Yes, and I hope it sticks to just turning showers and baths into blood before vanishing and leaving behind burned paper.”Dean raised a brow.“C’mon, out with it.”Sam sat up straight and cleared his throat.“I don’t know how the paper or the teeth fit into this, but have you ever heard of Elizabeth Báthory?”Grimacing thoughtfully for a moment, Dean smacked his lips.“Rings a faint bell,” he said, “Something with mass murder, wasn’t it?”“That’s not even half of it,” Sam opened yet another tab, “She was a noble women in Hungary, in the late 16th century. She’s said to have become a torturer and murderer before she was 14 and murdered 650 women in her time. Worse yet, she tortured and killed children for the sheer ‘pleasure’ of it.”“Whoa… Hello Grandma Alastair”, Dean drew a face of disgust.“My thoughts exactly,” Sam turned his attention back to the screen, “Due to her position she was tried but never punished for what she did, no matter how many people wanted her to pay. And now for the part she became most infamous for: It’s claimed that she had a special liking for killing young women to bathe in their blood to stay young and beautiful.”“And they say some celebs overdo that plastic surgery stuff. So we’re dealing with what? Vampire?”“Ghost, I’d say. Just one problem.”Dean made a ‘I-knew-there’s-a-problem’-face.“Which?”“The ghost has nothing to cling to here. The Báthorys are buried in Hungary, and there are no exhibits on her here or anything at the moment.”“Souvenirs from a trip to Europe, ‘cause I’m sure as Hell not flying to Hungary.”Sam eyed his brother, and closed the laptop.“Only one way to find out.” “I don’t know,” a neighbour informed Sam and Dean after they had found the old lady’s house empty, and had asked next door if anyone knew if Mrs Bayfield had been abroad or if she knew where her grandson was. “Haven’t been in town myself. Has this got anything to do with the bloodthing? This isn’t some exotic disease, is it?”“We are trying to exclude that possibility,” said Dean, and the woman sighed thoughtfully, scratching her arm nervously. “It’s very, very unlikely however.”“I hope so. I have two small children, you know. Well, if anyone knows for certain if Linda’s been on a holiday it would be Michael, but I don’t know if he’s at school right now or if he’s got the day off to be at the hospital with her.” “Let’s split up,” Dean said once they had gotten a description of Michael, and had driven off again, “You take the hospital, I take the school, we find what’s causing this, salt and burn it and are back at the bunker in time for tomorrow’s late news.”Sam agreed. A little half-heartedly however, as some things still didn’t make sense.And not all of them concerned the case. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Can’t. Dad’s going for steak tonight”, the first girl in the group said as they walked away from the school.“With his new girlfriend?”, asked the second one.“Of course,” the first one, whose name was Joselyn, frowned. Her parents had been through an unhappy divorce earlier the year and were right now still engaged in heavy marital war. “Do you think he’ll cut mom a break and do that when it’s not her shift? She’ll be calling in sick.”The second girl, Allison, and the boy with them, Julian, rolled their eyes.“And what now? That paper’s due next week,” Allison asked. “We can’t really do stuff with anyone around.”“Know what? I’ll ask Dad if he can’t cancel that so mom can work. If I tell him it’s for that es-…”At this point Joselyn stopped mid-sentence and looked across the highschool’s parking lot. “What’s Michael doing talking to the FBI?”“FBI?”, asked Julian, hands now burrowed in his pockets.“See that huge guy he’s talking to? He was at Toby Lake’s house the other day.”“Why?”, said Allison.Joselyn shrugged. “Bet you it has something to do with what happened to Toby’s sister.”“Well, then that guy is asking Mike ‘bout his grandmother,” Allison shuddered.Indeed that guy, no one else but Sam, was.“What kind of ‘weird things’?”Michael seemed a little unwell at having brought that topic up.“You see,” he admitted, “My grandparents have all this weird stuff in their basement. They’re not crazy, or anything, but there’s this stuff drawn on the floor and walls, and symbols and books. Things like that.”Sam smacked his lips in surprise, having an idea what the boy meant, and took a note.“Can you remember the symbols?”“What’s that got to do with anything?”“Anything could help.”The boy frowned and doodled something in Sam’s notebook.“Or something like that,” he said when he handed it back.“So, when you were last in the basement, was anything different?”Michael shook his head.“No,” he said. “Well, we took a book or two from there. Old history books. For school.”Putting the notebook away, Sam gave Michael a long look.“That’d be all then” he finally said, “If there are any more questions I’ll come back to you.”Michael nodded and walked off.Sam sighed and reached for his phone. Meanwhile, over at the hospital, Dean was sitting down at the bed of Mrs Bayfield, telling her he’d like to ask her a few questions about what brought her here.“She’s just going on and on about the blood”, the nurse said. Dean noticed the glare Mrs Bayfield casted at the young man at that.Though, in fact, Mrs Bayfield did. A bit of babbling, a bit of getting distracted. In short, she was everything but helpful.Dean frowned and looked away as the nurse left them for a moment, muttering ‘doddery old woman’ under his breath, getting annoyed.Once the nurse was gone, however, Mrs Bayfield suddenly sat up straighter, took a deep breath and quirked a brow at Dean.“I’m as much a doddery old woman as you’re an FBI agent.”Dean blinked a little taken aback for a moment, opened his mouth and closed it again, looking like a fish in the process, before reaching for his gun.“Oh blimey”, Mrs Bayfield continued and rolled her eyes. “Do you think I’m a demon? Monster? Ghost?” she asked, a little annoyed.“Well, I don’t know what you are, but…”“Am a hunter, lad. Well, been till my hubby and I grew too old for our taste.”“A hunter that grew ‘too old’?” Dean said in a voice that wasn’t buying it for a single second.“Everyone their own, lad. We never went for the big ones. Biggest thing we had was a duppy. In ‘83, down in Florida. We went back here and finally settled down for good.”“Wait, wait, wait,” Dean shook his head, a little baffled. “You’re not telling me you’re the wife of…”“Trevor Bayfield. I am. So, which one are you? Sam or Dean? You can only be a Winchester.”“Dean.”“Then I guess you know ‘bout that case from Bobby -rest in peace, you old bother-, right?”Dean took a deep breath, nodding, running a little out of steam now.“As for that literal bloodbath”, Mrs Bayfield then said, making Dean look up again, “You can scratch ghosts and demons off the list. There are traps and seals all over the house, with salt and iron set into the walls. But you’re free to have a look at my house. There’s a set of iron cats on the porch, the key’s under the middle one.”It was that moment the nurse came back. Mrs Bayfield and Dean exchanged a few harmless phrases, before Dean left, fumbling for his mobile on the way out.He looked at it a little surprised as it rang the moment he was about to call his brother.“Sam, you’re not going to believe this.”-I was about to say the same-“Okay, you first.”-There’s a devil’s trap in the Bayfield’s house-“Of course, they’re hunters,” Dean announced, nonchalantly. What followed was the sound of Sam nearly dropping his phone.-What?-“Linda and Trevor Bayfield. I knew the name sounded familiar.”-No you didn’t.-“Did too.”There was a frown.-So what now?-“Meet you at the motel. We’ll have a look at that stuff tonight.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It wasn’t much later that Sam was pacing up and down in their motel room. He had arrived first and was preparing some things for the night, looking up other explanations for what had happened. He had made some calls, finding that Mr and Mrs Bayfield had indeed been hunters, and information which only brought up the major question of what had happened in Mrs Bayfield’s bathroom then. The theory about Lady Bathory had been so sound. Everything had made sense. Take a possible vampiric hungarian noble from the 17th century, have her fake her death, move elsewhere, same M.O. as before, till moving to america centuries later, kill young women and dispose of them in a meatgrinder, because modern day authorities, i.e. hunters, would not go as easy on you as folks centuries back. It had made sense. So much sense. Except for the bits with the paper. Sam still had no idea what that was about. But right now, his attention was on something else entirely.“The management won’t like you trampling a trench into their floor,” was Dean’s statement as he entered the room, seeing his brother like this. His grin faded when he saw the bit of smeared blood by Sam’s ear, “Sam, what...”“I’m fine. Don’t worry.” Sam was a bit of a mess, to say the least.“Dude, you’ve been bleeding out of your ear, that’s everything but fine.”“I know. I know. Okay, I’m confused and a little worried, but I’m fine. I can stand and walk, I can hear just fine, I’m not dizzy or anything.” He sat down at the table anyway. “Okay, maybe a little dizzy.”“What happened?” Dean sat down opposite of his brother, hands on the table and leaning over it for a moment.“I tried to call Kevin”, Sam said, running a hand through his hair, “Called other people about the Bayfields first and then wanted to see if he could find anything about what we’re dealing with here.”“Didn’t you tell me Victor said no to that, just yesterday?”“No I didn’t.”“And I didn’t point you to the glove compartment.”Sam rolled his eyes and frowned.“Okay now, what happened then?”, asked Dean, his voice calmer again.“I called, it rang, but then… there was this sound,” he sighed, “as if everyone in the world screamed at me at once. I felt like my head was exploding.”Dean grimaced. “But you’re alright?”“Yeah. Still a little dizzy, but I’m fine.” Then Sam took a deep breath. Dean didn’t miss the signs.“That’s not all, is it?”, he asked and Sam nodded.“Once my head started spinning, I wanted to gear up. I got through my bag and found this.”He placed a crumpled piece of paper on the table. Written on it were several lines of numbers, all crossed out, and a little skull drawn in the corner at the bottom, with a ‘No!!’ next to it.“That’s your handwriting,” Dean stated after looking over the paper. “What’s with those numbers?”“No idea. They’re too long for coordinates or phone numbers. And I don’t remember writing that.”Dean frowned and threw the paper onto the table, “First my letter to us, now this. What’s going on Sam?”“I wish I knew. At least your letter made some sort of sense.”“You call ‘Things got rebooted’ and ‘Stab E. in the face’ ‘making sense’?”“More than that,” Sam waved a hand at the crumpled note, “for certain.”Dean made a face. “Well then,” he said, reclining in the chair. “Let’s concentrate on what we have a clue about. What did you find?”“Michael said he had friends over a few weeks back, a bit before the first time teeth wound up in the town’s meat. He said he wanted to get some books from his grandmother’s basement.”“They’ve been dabbling in the occult?”“I doubt that. Michael said they were for papers for school. Plain old history books.”“Aha?”Sam shrugged. “I don’t think he’s lying. He seemed clueless about what else they found in the basement.”“The devil’s trap, right?”“And apparently some other symbols and sigils. If you’d ask me, I’d say that they accidentally broke a line…”“...And allowed a hungarian madwoman with her own ideas about anti-aging products into the house.”“And city.”“So, we go there, find what’s broken, and fix it.”“Exactly.”“Good. Mrs Bayfield told me where she keeps a key.”“Oh. Alright then. Michael should be leaving soon.”“Come again?”“He said he’ll be heading down to the airport in Windsor Locks. Picking up his parents in the morning.”Dean grinned. “Ain’t it nice when things are simple for a change?”He rose and went to get his bag. Sam looked after him, his face falling, lips pressed together. No, it wasn’t simple. Not the slightest. He grabbed the crumpled note from the table and put it into his pocket, fingers brushing against something that had been wrapped in the paper. He couldn’t tell his brother about it. Not yet at least. “Your mom is amazing,” Julian said as they settled down at Joselyn’s house. Her mother had left for work not too long ago, despite Joselyn having failed to convince her father to go somewhere else for dinner with his new girlfriend.Joselyn huffed. “I’d rather say Dad’s an ass. Mom’s just trying to get through life with me.” She put down a bowl and a knife on the table, alongside some plastic containers and an old, leatherbound book. “I think we got everything.”“We should make it stronger this time,” said Allison.“Why?”, asked Joselyn.Allison looked away, making a face.“I haven’t done much with that paper yet. I mean, I saw how well this worked and…” she sighed, “I thought I’d have so much more time now.”Joselyn rolled her eyes, and Julian spoke before she could say anything.“You’re not the only one. Chris just started on his.”“Well, he’s ill, he’ll get more time to finish anyway,” said Allison. “But we won’t. So, c’mon, let’s do this.”They frowned and nodded in unison. Who would have thought that writing a paper on famous murderers would be so tedious. ‘Twas good that they found a way to make things a little easier. “...cat in the middle…”, Dean gleamed and picked up the key. Night hadn’t fallen yet, but it was getting dark, and Michael had left a good quarter of an hour ago. The best time to have a look at Mrs Bayfield’s house.A quick look around and Sam and Dean slipped through the open door.“Mhn, sigil wallpaper,” Dean commented as he spotted it in the beam of his flashlight. “Handy.”In fact, the entire house appeared to be neatly built to ward of all kinds of occult entities. Sigils and seals in the wallpaper and carpet, carved into the doorframes and handrails on the stairs.“This is odd,” came Sam’s comment as he headed for the basement. “They were hunters,” Dean countered, “They knew what they were dealing with.”“That’s what I meant, Dean. All those traps and wards and stuff, how would anything we know get from the basement to the bathroom, wherever that is?”Dean turned and shone his flashlight into Sam’s face, making him raise his hand to shield his eyes. “True.” His brows furrowed and his stance changed. “Let’s split up then. I’m not in the mood for getting looked up in the basement by Starships 2.0. One of us should stay out of here.”He pointed his thumb over his shoulder, signaling Sam to head back up the stairs.The basement itself was pretty unspectacular.Lots of shelves, old furniture, a few tools here and there. One shelf held a grand number of old books, making it the only thing down here that looked a little out of place. Next to what was drawn onto the walls. Dean stepped closer, squinting at the lines of all the symbols around him. Nothing he hadn’t seen before. And no line broken as far as he could tell. He moved carefully around the area, examining each ward he could spot, wall, ceiling and floor alike.Meanwhile, Sam was looking for the bathroom, equally carefully looking at the hidden symbols on his way there. Everything seemed fine. There appeared to be no way anything could have come in here. The same in the bathroom. He looked at the mirror, considering the possibilities. “What’re you thinking about?”, Joselyn asked, as she noticed Allison seemed distracted, fiddling with the edge of a writing pad in her lap.Allison looked at her, blinking for a moment. “Oh, not much. Just that FBI agent that’s been talking to Mike.” Sam saw the flickering reflection just in time to move to the side as an axe burrowed into the wooden cabinet under the mirror. He spun around, looking at what appeared to be a madwoman with an axe.Dressed in an antique dress.With… letters moving in her eyes and under her skin. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- A moment passed before the thing screeched and lunged at Sam, the latter managing to dodge away at the very last second. The apparition turned, the axe in the cabinet vanished, appearing in its hand again. Sam raised his gun as the thing ran towards him again, firing once, hitting, but without much of an effect. The ghostly form split where it was hit for a second, looking like ink dropped into a glass of water. Behind it, a vase burst apart. Again the thing launched itself forward, axe raised. Sam let himself fall to the ground, the apparition stumbling over him. Literally stumbling. It staggered, dropping the axe in the process, and gave a screech as it found its balance again. Sam blinked. The same moment the bathroom door was pushed open.“Bullets don’t work” getting back onto his feet himself Sam shouted to his brother, who, receiving that information, did the only logical thing, grabbed at the next best item and swung it at the thing. Who, for a moment, stared at him in surprise, before bursting into a small shower of burning paper.The brothers watched the paper fall and burn on the tiles.“Did I just”, Dean started, stubbornly not looking at the makeshift weapon in his hand, “Kill a ghost with a toilet brush?”Sam smacked his lips and nodded.“Well…”, said Dean, putting the item away, still stubbornly not looking, “That’s a new one,” he cleared his throat, wiped his hands on his pants, looking his brother over. “You’re alright?”“Yeah.” That said, Sam kneeled back down, picking up a bit of the paper.“Wasn’t that Lizzie Borden?”, Dean asked, rather angry and a little confused, before turning his attention to the cabinet. “I thought that was a possession thing.”Sam was leafing through the papers carefully, while Dean ran a finger over the crack in the cabinet, whistling through his teeth at the size of it.“This is bad,” he said, shaking his head. The corpse they had found the other day might have vanished, which probably meant it was part of whatever it was that was going on, but if a mark such as this remained, it was easy to imagine that people were in danger should this thing not get stopped.“This is greek,” Sam suddenly announced, drawing Dean’s attention away from the gash in the cabinet.“What?”“Greek. Ancient greek on top of that,” Sam’s eyes widened as an idea hit him.“Sam?”“Yes?”“You look like you just discovered the meaning of life. Mind sharing it?”Sam closed his mouth and swallowed, before clearing his throat. “I think I know what we’re dealing with.”“Well, if that was Lizzie Borden and that Bathory woman is in the mix too, we…”“It’s not demons, Dean.”“Then what is it?” Not too far away, over at one of the town’s restaurants, a young woman was standing alone in the bathroom, washing her hands. She was currently contemplating leaving the restaurant early, as she couldn’t stand her new boyfriend constantly making his ex-wife’s life hell. She sighted and reached for a paper towel. At the same moment, Joselyn, notepad in front of her, gnawing on a pen, complained about her father’s new girlfriend. The woman in the bathroom, her name was Christine, caught a glimpse of the odd reflection in the mirror just in time. It was a man with a moustache, half bald, dressed in clothes from the turn of the previous century, an odd mark around his neck and a hatchet in his hand. The woman’s attention was on the weapon immediately, but she did notice the odd figures running under the man’s skin. She gasped as the man attacked her, dodging away and kicking her heel into his side. The figure grunted and turned towards her again, but suddenly it seemed distracted. It vanished. Christine gasped, eyes narrowed, waiting for another attack. “Know what’s the worst thing is?”, Joselyn frowned, taking a long gulp from a cup next to her, “She’s not that bad, actually. It’s all dad’s fault.” There was an uproar from outside the lady’s room. Crashing of glass and plates and chairs and several loud voices and screams. Christine ran out of the bathroom, gasping at the sign before her. The main hall of the restaurant was a mess and in the middle of it was the strange man from before, viciously attacking her boyfriend, while other guests looked on in terror, some probably thinking this was some cruel prank. It wasn’t until his ex-wife suddenly stormed onto the scene, swinging an umbrella like a baseball bat and bringing it down on the odd man’s head with full force. Something odd, odder and weirder and only a little less unsettling than the scene before, happened: The odd man vanished, leaving behind nothing but a small pile of ash and bits of burning paper.It took a moment, till someone in the crowd yelled for someone to call an ambulance. The phone rang. Joselyn rose, rubbing her head as she had suddenly gotten a mild headache, and picked up the receiver. Allison and Julian looked at her, watching her face losing all colour all of a sudden.Shaking, she hung up and turned towards her friends, words stuck in her throat.“What’s wrong?”, Julian asked.“It’s… it’s dad…”, Joselyn found her voice, although it was weak, “Someone… someone tried to kill him at the restaurant,” she suddenly turned, grabbing her jacket, “I need to go to the hospital…”Completely forgetting all other things her friends rose from their work, notepads, pens and a bowl of a glimmering liquid getting left behind as they raced out of the house.As the door fell shut behind them, a young woman appeared on the foot of the stairs. She was small, with dark olive skin, an updo, well dressed, clutching a clipboard and currently biting her lower lip as if she was really, really worried. “I’m fine, Sammy. Forget the hopsital,” Dean grunted, holding his ear and resting his head against the dashboard while Sam raced the Impala through the streets.Sam had explained what he thought they were dealing with here. Which brought up a whole new problem. They had no idea how to deal with things now. They had similar opponents in the past, but that wasn’t saying much. Everything remotely from the same page of the big book of supernatural buttheads was a bitch to take care of. Then Dean had tried calling Kevin for assistance -as the local libraries were already closed- despite him and Sam agreeing that it might be a bad idea after what had happened to Sam earlier the day. They were wrong about this call having the same effect as it had on Sam. It was worse.Now Dean was pressing a towel against the side of his head. Oddly enough, despite the amount of blood, he was otherwise fine, just really dizzy, with only a bit of bad hearing. He hadn’t noticed that he had collapsed and was out for several minutes after the attempted call.“You were out for a whole five minutes, Dean,” Sam retorted, letting the motor roar, “We get you to the hospital, see what’s going on, and then… whoa!” An ambulance nearly cut them off, followed by a small, dark green car.They reached the hospital a few moments after the ambulance, just in time to spot an odd, olive-skinned woman suddenly appeared and disappearing just as fast, looking after the man that was hurried into the ER.Now they had two reasons to be here. Once again, entirely elsewhere.“I found it curious to have not run into any angels yet,” Castiel said, after swallowing a great bit of steak and baked potato. Opposite of him, and paying for the dinner, sat the angel Hael, watching him with a bit of amazement.“So, tell me,” Cas continued, “This other angel you mentioned.”Hael shrugged. “I don’t know who he was. But as I said, he was very powerful.”“And he showed you how to heal your vessel?”Hael nodded. “May I?” She reached over, snatching a slice of cucumber from the salad next to Castiel’s plate, nibbling lazily on it. “He was… just plain odd. No one I ever saw in Heaven. But he said I musn’t harm you should I run into you. Or the Winchesters.”Castiel looked up from his plate again, burping softly, earning a bewildered look from Hael. Being human was really something that would take time getting used too.“Can I ask you something?” Hael then said, leaning back in her seat. “What happened?”Now Castiel put the cutlery down.“Metatron lied to me about his plans for Heaven and Earth and Hell. He said he was going to fix everything, when in fact he intended to break it all,” he sighed, “All out of revenge for…” Castiel stopped, suddenly looking confused to his very essence.“Hael, tell me something, can you actually remember the Metatron ever leaving Heaven?” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Joselyn was devastated. Her mother had just told her what had happened, and she didn’t know what to make of that. There was the fact that her dad had been attacked and was currently fighting for his life, but the story as a whole didn’t make any sense.“But it’s crazy!”, Joselyn exclaimed as she, Allison and Julian snuck off to a quiet little corner to talk. “People don’t just get up and disappear.”Julian rolled her eyes. “Jo, we’re writing homework using some greek voodoo. Disappearing crazies are totally below that on the ‘weird’ scale.”Joselyn frowned, bit her lips. The same moment Allison grimaced in desperation as he remembered something.“Shit! We forgot the stuff. Your mom’ll going crazy if she sees that.”The other two made a similar face, a general illustration of the word ‘fuck’. Allison was about to say something when somewhere nearby someone shouted, and the three of them scrambled to get away from possible trouble and back to Joselyn’s home before her mom did. The woman with the clipboard hadn’t noticed Sam and Dean. She was too busy keeping an eye, not on the man that had been raced here, but on his teenage daughter and her friends. She adjusted her cardigan, and followed them silently to an empty corridor in the building. She sighted, raised her hand… and almost screamed as someone much taller than she was grabbed her wrist.“Hey! Leave’em alone,” Sam grunted, holding her arm.A doctor had given Dean a quick check-up, declared there to be no greater injuries and that he couldn’t explain the blood. Then he had looked at Dean and Sam as if the two were pulling his leg. While he gave Dean a more thorough check-up (the blood had to come from somewhere, after all), Sam went to pay Mrs Bayfield a visit, asking her about the matter at hand, trying to find the woman they had spotted at the entrance. Only to run into her on an empty corridor, spying on a group of teenagers.Much to his surprise, the woman seemed mortally frightened of him.True, he had seen monsters actually being scared of him and Dean, they had a reputation after all. But not like this.“My end you will become, will you not?” the woman finally spoke, holding up the clipboard like a shield, peeking over it, “As you are a Winchester and in my responsibility, albeit not in my intention, it lies that a man is at the verge of death.”Sam was a little taken aback by the prose.“You nearly killed a man and now you are after those teenagers.”“I did not harm the elder. It is not to my liking. And those did not adhere the rules.”“So you’re going to punish them?!”“No… no. Gracious gods, I will not,” the woman looked at Sam, shaking her head. “Just remove the desire to further use what they should not have used at all.” She then looked around the corner, making a devastated sound as she found the teenagers had left, probably after being alerted by Sam’s words.“I must leave and find them.”And she was gone. It would have been much of a surprise if Dean would have actually listened to the doctor’s order to lie down for a bit after the check-up was through. At the first possibility to head out, he had headed out, and up the stairs, to meet his brother at Mrs Bayfield’s room. Not that Sam had been there. In fact, Dean ran into him just in front of the room.“I lost her,” Sam admitted, a little out of breath.“What?” Dean grunted, pulling his brother around a corner to get out of plain sight.“I saw her stalking some teenagers, but she vanished.”“Dammit, Sam!”“What was I supposed to do? I told you bullets do nothing. And this is a hospital.”“Find the teenagers, maybe?”“And then what?”Dean smacked his lips and, after a quick glance around, slipped into Mrs Bayfield’s room.“You’re back pretty fast,” she greeted Dean, sitting up in her bed, putting what she’d been reading to the side. Then she eyed Sam. “And that must be Sam. Nice to meet you.”Sam smiled back, a little awkward for a moment, while Dean closed the door behind him.“We don’t have much time, ma’am,” he said.“What do you know about muses?”, Sam added.Mrs Bayfield raised a brow. “Muses? Is that what’s going on here?”“We think so,” Sam answered, “One seems to be behind the things happening lately. And she’s currently after some teenagers.”“Last time I met one they were anything but a threat,” said Mrs Bayfield.Sam and Dean looked at each other.“You met one?”, asked Dean, a little baffled.“Two, actually. Years and years back. Polyhymnia and Euterpe. Nice girls. Were constantly singing while speaking. ‘twas a bit of a musical that case, I tell you. Can’t blame them, though,” Mrs Bayfield stretched, “We ran into them after two rivaling composers tried to best each other with their aid, but then went and summoned some demons when things didn’t go fast enough. It was a mess.”“Did you,” Sam started, approaching the bed and sitting down on a chair next to it, “know how they summoned the muses?”“It was in another hunter’s old diary one of them found, from what we know,” Mrs Bayfield narrowed her eyes and knitted her brows, before frowning aloud. “Blimey!”“What?”, came the response in unison.“You probably saw my basement, right? All the books?”Dean nodded.“When Trevor and I decided to settle down”, Mrs Bayfield continued, hastly “We gave most of our books away. Those no one wanted or need we put in the basement with all the other old books,” she rolled her eyes, “Thought they’d be safe. One of them was exactly that book. Now, those teenagers you mentioned. Two girls, two boys by chance? One of the girls with pink strands?”“I only saw three,” Sam said, “but yes, that fits one of them.”“That’s some of Michael’s friends. That girl is Joselyn. They’re having to write something for school. I guess Mike took the book from the basement not knowing what he had there.”Again Sam and Dean glanced at each other, alarmed.“That was the girl whose father was attacked,” Dean said, also alarming Mrs Bayfield in the progress.“What?”“When we came here that girl’s father was being raced into the ER.”“That’s not good.”“That’s not all,” exchanging glances with Dean, Sam started telling Mrs Bayfield what happened at her home and what they heard here at the hospital, making Mrs Bayfield shake her head rather confused.“If a muse is the cause for that, something’s seriously amiss,” she said. “Told you they aren’t that vicious.”“But something is, and that thing is at least a key element.”Looking at Dean, Mrs Bayfield shook her head.“You can’t kill a muse. You’d destroy what she embodies. That’d be like killing Time, or Fate, or Death. And from what I know you two met that old bother. But I can give you the kids’ address, maybe you’ll find out what’s going on.”She did, and Sam and Dean were off again. “What do you mean, gone?” Allison almost hissed.They had arrived at Joselyn’s house a few minutes before and decided that pouring their ‘greek voodoo potion’ down the drain would be a waste. Only to find the bowl all three of them knew they had left in the middle of the coffee table gone. Along with the book they had the spell from.“But that’s impossible,” Allison continued.“I know,” said Joselyn. “Mom’s gonna kill me. She made that bowl herself.” She looked at her friends. “Did we really leave it on the table?”“I don’t know, actually,” said Julian.“Neither,” said Allison. “I mean, when you said your dad’s at the hospital, things got messy.”“Let’s look for it then. Has to be somewhere.”And they started searching. The Impala screeched to a halt outside Joselyn’s house. The boys got out and snuck closer to the house in the dark.“No sound of people getting brutally slaughtered,” Dean said, peeking into the window, “That’s always a big plus.”“They’re still making a lot of noise.”“They are looking for what they should never have had as they had it and what I took from them,” sounded a voice behind them. Sam and Dean spun around, facing the being they were looking for. She was holding a small stone bowl and a book.“Might I borrow your lighter?”, she asked.“What?” Both Winchesters had instinctively reached for their weapons (even though they still had no clue how to actually go about the general situation of this case) but stopping when the request proceeded through their ears.“I would like to burn this brew and end this reckless dream of dark,” the woman said, “Therefore please forfeit your intentions of ending me.”The boys lowered their hands a little baffled.“What is that?”, asked Sam, and in response the woman handed him the book.“The 512th page,” she said.Sam flipped to the page in question, reading.“Oh,” he said, and fumbled his lighter from his pocket.“What?”, Dean interrupted him and peeked onto the page, before he went ‘Oh’ as well, and let Sam hand over the lighter.“So, you’re a muse?” Dean asked, once the substance in the bowl was burning softly in a secluded spot by the Impala. The woman nodded. “Sam here said you must be one of the writers,” Dean continued. Which one are you, Clio or Cassiopeia?”“Calliope,” Sam whispered, leaning towards his brother.“What?”“Calliope’s a muse.”Dean thought for a moment. “Cassiopeia was Momo’s turtle, right?”Sam nodded.“I am Clio,” the muse said.“Well then, Clio,” said Sam as the flames died off slowly. “What exactly happened here?”“They searched knowledge on those that took pleasure in slaughtering their kin and found the book you hold.”“‘They’ are those teenagers in there, right?”Clio nodded and explained. In a way that gave the brothers a little headache by the looks of it.“Just so we’re on the same page here”, Dean then said, making a face as if he was still not buying it. “Those kids in there were writing an essay. On serial killers. And they went to Mrs Bayfield’s house cause looking for history books, found this instead and then went, casted that spell, which called you so you would do their homework for them?”Tilting her head a little Clio nodded once more.“I believe that was what they desired.”“But that spell was meant to be used before sleeping, so they’d dream about that stuff and while they do an enchanted pen would write their essay. But because they didn’t sleep you made that stuff appear in reality, and then they made the potion stronger and thought of Sammy, and that guy, so the serial killers appeared and attacked them.”“That is correct,” Clio said, and Dean rubbed his temples.“Moral of the story,” he frowned, “If the package says ‘Take before sleeping’ take it before sleeping.”“Wait,” Sam suddenly interrupted, narrowing his eyes, “You listed four serial killers. Lizzie Borden, Elizabeth Bathory, Carl Grossman and Jack the Ripper. That means four students. But I only saw three. What did you do to the fourth?”“The same I intended for those three and what I shall do now.”Automatically Sam and Dean got back into an attack stance, and Clio made a step away from them, raising her hands defensively.“Oh, no. No,” she said. “I did not harm him. He has fallen ill and I visited him, taking the potion and the memory of its existence from him. That is all I shall do to those three.”Then she vanished, appearing at the door of Joselyn’s home across the street a moment later, ringing the bell. When the door was opened, it all happened very fast. Clio handed the bowl (now filled with popcorn) to Joselyn, who had opened and then there was a small sound, as if a violin’s string was plucked, and Joselyn looked confused, and closed the door again.Clio skipped back over to Sam and Dean, smiling.“All is well now,” she said. “I shall return to my realm, and ask Asclepius to aid the man this dream of dark brought close to death.”“That’s good,” said Dean, hands on his hips. “We’ll let you go this time. But if you’ll ever cause trouble…”Clio chuckled.“I shall not do so. But should you need my aid, you now hold the means to call my sisters and me forth. And now, farewell and take good care, for I can see how great the history before you is and isn’t.”And then she was gone.“What the hell was that supposed to mean?”, Dean grumbled.“I was going to ask the same thing.” Several hundred miles away, Hael looked up from the book she’s been reading.“What’s wrong?”, asked Castiel. They had decided to share a hotel room, as Hael had the feeling she had to keep Castiel safe from other angels that, she felt, had not understood the lesson she had learned by now.“I don’t know,” Hael closed her eyes, concentrating. “But I think,” she said, opening her eyes again and making a confused face, “there’s a pirate station broadcasting on angel radio.” “Once we’re home we need to get Kev and celebrate,” Dean grinned, as the Impala drove down a road outside South Hadley, the starry sky above, “We don’t have cases like this too often. Everyone living and stuff.”Sam made a murmuring, but agreeing sound, flipping through the pages of the spellbook Clio had given them.“Anything interesting?”, asked Dean.“If by interesting you mean confusing, then yeah, the whole book.”“What?”“The spells seem alright, as far as I can tell,” Sam shook his head, “But… get this: ‘Be wary of those that say to be angels but bear the names of the prophets of old and the kings of older. They do not lie that they came from Heaven, but far from home are they often now.”“What’s that supposed to mean?”“I know,” Sam closed the book and turned it around carefully. “I feel like we've got more questions than answers right now.”“Chin up, Sammy. We get back to the bunker, and see what we find. I mean, we have an old book, a letter and a few weird numbers. Can’t be that hard to explain that.”“I don’t think we’ll find all answers at the bunker.”Now Sam was worrying the hem of his sleeve.“What’s the matter?”, Dean asked, seeing his brother lean against the window like that.Sam sighed through his nose, not answering for a moment.“Fine, don’t tell me,” Dean shrugged, concentrating on the road again. It was then that Sam, without a word, pulled something from his pocket, holding it up.Dean nearly steered the Impala into the next tree.Once the car stopped, a little askew at the side of the road, Dean stared at the item in his brother’s hand in utter disbelief. It was a very, very particular amulet.For several moments Dean’s mouth opened and closed again, as he was obviously looking for something to say, while Sam stoically avoided his eyes.“Remember the note I showed you”, Sam finally said, still not looking at his brother, even as Dean took the amulet, moving it between his fingers, “This was wrapped in it.”“You’re shitting me. C’mon, Sam, this is a lookalike you found somewhere.”Now Sam did look at his brother.“And where?”, he asked, “Dean, we haven’t really been anywhere where I could’ve found that.”Dean went silent, leaning onto the steering wheel.“What’s going on with us, Sammy?”, he asked, staring into the distance.“Wish I knew.”“Well,” Dean then grinned, slipping the amulet around his neck, “Then let’s find out and kick the ass of whoever’s behind it.”The motor roared, and BTO’s ‘Hey You’ played on the radio.
1056661	The Rise and Fall of	{ "Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Kuroko Tetsuya, Akashi Seijuurou, Midorima Shintarou, Aomine Daiki, Kise Ryouta, Murasakibara Atsushi, Kagami Taiga", "Fandom": "Kuroko no Basuke \| Kuroko's Basketball", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by isengard", "chapters": "2/2", "completed": "", "published": "2013-11-24T00:00:00", "words": "5,142", "Additional Tags": "Dark, mentions of gangs, murder basketball, akashis scissors should prob get their own character tag, hides face who wrote this not me, Implied Past Child Abuse", "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 meet at the park, on the basketball court. Or at least, that's where Kise meets them. He doesn't know how everyone else became acquainted, maybe they knew each other from way back, maybe Akashi recruited them in the same fashion as he recruits Kise, by sending a ball spinning towards his head when he innocently walks past the court on his way home, leaving him too startled to do anything but snap his hands up and catch it. “Nice reflexes,” a guy says, jogging over to him. His skin is tan and weathered in a way that doesn't match the youthful expression on his face; he's dripping and impossibly cut. Kise takes pride in his body – after all, it is his meal ticket, but he finds himself in the unusual position of feeling hopelessly inadequate next to this boy. He tosses the ball back, irritated. “Watch where you're throwing that thing.” The boy sends it flying back, and Kise feels it vibrate down his arms when he catches it again. He glares at the boy, who tugs on his shirt collar and grins. “Wanna play?” And Kise, who's never had his pride challenged before, has no choice but to accept. * “You should come back,” Aomine says, after he dunks on Kise for the last time, leaving his self-esteem in shambles. “You're a natural. I can't believe you've never played seriously before.” “Why the fuck,” Kise pants, leaning on his knees, “would I want to do that?” Aomine glances at the rest of his friends, who haven't said a word to Kise yet. He looks back at Kise. “We're a team,” he says. “We play out here for money. You play with us, you get a cut.” Kise's not hurting for cash, not even a little bit, but there's something even more powerful settling in him, a resolve, a mission. It's a familiar rush, the challenge, but it feels different this time. Because Kise's spent his whole life searching for mountains that turned out to be molehills, he's always overshot the top. And when he looks at Aomine, he sees the struggle, the impossibility of ever standing above him, every ounce of common sense he possesses telling him no, you won't reach this summit, you will fall. He says, “When do I start?” * “Here.” A pile of small bills tumbles into his lap, he looks up in surprise at Midorima. “Your cut.” “I didn't even play,” Kise says, confused. “Everyone gets paid, every game,” Midorima says, peering disinterestedly down his nose at Kise. “Unless you don't show up. But that's something you definitely should not do.” Kise chews his lip. “What happens if we lose?” “Oh, Akashi has a backup fund for that,” Kuroko says, materializing next to him. Kise starts. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to Kuroko. “It's irrelevant,” Midorima says coldly. “We don't lose.” * Akashi starts every game by shaking hands with the “captains” of the other teams, whoever is representing them, really. Their opponents often exchange dubious glances at the display of formality, but they go along with it. Something about Akashi makes those around him fall into step, even the incorrigible Murasakibara, who has never called Kise by name in the three weeks they've been playing together. Pleasantries are exchanged, and then Akashi says, “Let's play a clean game, and may the best team win.” It's the starting bell to every match, a tone Kise gets used to and doesn't question. Why wouldn't they play a clean game? Isn't basketball supposed to be fun? * It takes almost two months for someone to disregard Akashi's opening statement. The “team” they find themselves up against are all brutes in their early twenties, broader and harder than them, taller than everyone except Murasakibara. Kise gets shoved, knocked down, punched, even kicked in the side. Kuroko has to sit out because his head is bleeding, and Aomine looks about ready to kill someone. “Daiki,” Akashi says sharply, after he body-checks one of the opposing players. “We play a clean game.” He's as focused as Kise's ever seen him. “You know what happens when players break decorum on my court.” Kise's body is burning with exertion, but a swift chill goes through him when Akashi's lips twist in a very small smile. “It seems, though, that these gentlemen don't.” Aomine stands up straighter. “No,” he says, voice hard. “But they will.” How the other team plays doesn't matter after that. Murasakibara plays with a brutality that takes Kise's breath away, Aomine tears through the offense like the players are standing still, and Akashi passes with unprecedented accuracy, like he can see where his teammates are going to be before they even get there. The score gap ends up being the widest of all the games they've played, and the crowd it draws makes Kise feel like more of a celebrity than modeling ever has. “That was incredible,” Kise laughs, folding up an enormous wad of bills and stuffing them into his jeans. They made almost double their usual take; Akashi'd used the gathered crowd to place more bets. “I guess that's what happens when the other team plays dirty.” Akashi gives him a long, indecipherable look. “We're not finished, Ryouta.” Then, with a nod to Aomine, he stands up and walks away. Kise blinks. “Huh?” “We're having a rematch,” Aomine tells him brightly, swinging his arm around Kise's shoulders and walking him back across the park. “Tonight. There's a street court by the train tracks not far from here.” “Um,” Kise says. “Is it really...safe?” He knows the court in question, it's too run-down to be considered anything but a dump. He has no idea why they'd want to have a rematch there, not when they have a perfectly good court right here in the park, in the center of things. Aomine laughs. “No,” he says. “But I'll protect you. Just don't get in Akashi's way.” Kise glances back to where Akashi is talking to Kuroko, hands on his shoulders, lean arms stretched between them. “Will Kurokocchi be alright?” “He better be,” Aomine says with a wolfish grin. “Tetsu loves a good rematch.” After a period of silence, he adds, “Don't wear any clothing you'd miss.” And Kise doesn't know quite what to make of that. * “Hope we didn't keep you waiting,” the leader of their earlier opponents sneers, stepping onto the cracked cement court. “If you think you have some kind of advantage out here, you're dead wrong.” “Hm,” Akashi says. Kise sees a glint of silver inside his sleeve. “I take it you don't want to play, then.” “Hell no,” the guy growls. “Too bad.” Akashi steps back like he's going to turn away, but then launches his arm forward, and it's so fast that Kise doesn't even realize what's happened until the guy is falling, choking, with a pair of kitchen shears jutting out of his throat. Kise's leg's won't work. His eyes won't move. He hears a whistle of appreciation that sounds like it's coming from Aomine, but that can't be right, Akashi just killed that guy – “Disappointing,” Akashi sighs. “I was hoping he'd at least try to dodge.” The guy's four teammates look how Kise feels, frozen, confused, horrified. One of them jerks his head up to look at Akashi, fury etched in every line. “You're gonna die for that,” he says. “Hm,” Akashi says again. “Tetsuya, that one's yours.” * “You did well,” Kuroko says when it's all over. He's bleeding more heavily than before, from his nose and his shoulder. His knuckles, too, but Kise is fairly certain it's not all Kuroko's blood. “I threw up the first time I came to a rematch.” “Mine's still alive,” Midorima says, pulling his shirt off and wiping his hands. “If I hit him anymore, I'll compromise my hands.” Akashi purses his lips. “Fine,” he says. “Atsushi, take care of it.” Kise doesn't want to listen to the hideous cracking sound that follows, but finds he can't help it. “Ryouta,” Akashi says, and then suddenly Kise's arms are trapped behind his back, a powerful hold he couldn't break if he tried. Murasakibara must've come up behind him when he wasn't looking. The scissors are back in Akashi's hand. “Ryouta,” he repeats, stepping forward. Kise wonders if he's going to die. “You didn't participate.” The strike seems to come in slow motion, although Kise reasons it's probably lightning-fast in reality. He watches as the scissors graze against his arm, feels the sharp edge of surprise that turns into pain as the blood begins to flow. It's superficial, he realizes dazedly. Barely a scratch. Then Murasakibara spins him around, draws back his fist, and Kise's world goes dark. * Aomine's waiting for him when he wakes up, slumped tiredly against the chain-link fence surrounding the court. Kise gets to his feet dizzily, feels the gash and swelling in his jaw where Murasakibara hit him. “Where'd everyone go?” “Home,” Aomine grunts, climbing up from the ground. “When?” Aomine gives him a look. “Like, two minutes ago? Jeez, Murasakibara didn't hit you that hard.” Kise's jaw isn't broken, so, he supposes Aomine has a point. “Does that,” Kise starts, when they're back by the road and he feels less surreal, “like...happen a lot? Do you...” He isn't sure how to finish the sentence. “Kill people?” Aomine supplies. “Not too often. Sometimes we just kick their asses. Akashi wanted to make an example of these guys, because of what they did to Kuroko.” “Doesn't it bother you?” Kise asks, and realizes very suddenly that it doesn't really bother him, not as much as it should. His hands aren't shaking, his mind feels – strangely clear. Aomine looks thoughtful. “It did, I guess, once,” he says. “But it's not like I'm the one picking who lives and who dies. Akashi knows. He sees things the rest of us don't.” He shrugs. “If he says someone needs to die, I believe him.” “Right,” Kise replies. He feels insane and cavalier, he's fighting back hysterical impulses that, deep down, he knows will never surface. “You're just a bunch of guys who play basketball together, and sometimes commit homicide on the weekends. So. No big deal.” “It's not like that,” Aomine says, shaking his head. “There's a balance, you'll see.” Kise rubs his jaw, scowling. “Besides,” Aomine adds. “Akashi wouldn't've picked you if he didn't think you were cut out for this.” “How are you so sure about him?” Kise asks. Aomine stops walking abruptly, and Kise experiences a brief thrill of fear, before he realizes that Aomine's simply taking a seat on a bench, waiting for him to do the same. “I didn't always believe,” Aomine says. “In Akashi, I mean. I'm not the type to just give my respect to people unless they earn it.” Kise looks at his hands. “I had this foster dad, a few years back. We were still in middle school. Guy was a fucking asshole, he used to rail on me and my foster sister all the time.” Aomine's voice is distant. “I'd been playing with these guys for like, a year, and Akashi asked if if I'd rather live on my own.” “On your – ” “And I was like, 'yeah', but I didn't wanna leave Satsuki alone with that asswipe.” Aomine flexes his knuckles. “So, one day I came home, and he was dead. Just like that.” He draws a line across his throat. Kise swallows. “Just like that, huh.” “Akashi had my back,” Aomine says seriously. “So now I get my own digs, and Satsuki's with a new family.” “I do have this manager,” Kise says, surprised at himself. “It doesn't happen so much anymore, but. When I was younger.” Aomine nods, understanding without saying it out loud, which Kise appreciates. “Sounds like something we could take care of.” “Yeah?” Kise grins. “Sure.” Aomine claps him on the shoulder, standing up. “Talk to Akashi. He likes when we take initiative.” * Akashi listens to Kise's proposal, and nods. “I'll need you to prove yourself at another rematch,” he says. “This isn't a free-for-all. We have rules.” Kise says, “Works for me.” Akashi says, “Don't forget to pay attention, Ryouta. You're a copycat, after all.” * At the next rematch, Kise watches Akashi's scissors drag in a smooth, unhesitating arc across a gangbanger's throat. When Akashi tosses him the shears, he catches them by the handle and copies the move perfectly. Akashi treats them all to ice cream afterwards. * “Akashi's not gonna be happy about this,” Midorima says as they all gaze down at the body of the motorist. “He shoved Satsuki!” Aomine argues angrily. There's blood all down the front of his shirt, his knuckles are split wide open. “The fuck were we supposed to do?” “We should've called Akashi,” Kuroko agrees softly. There's blood dripping from his mouth; it's not his own. Kise's learned to be a little scared of Kuroko. He says, “We should go, before the cops come.” It's not the best part of town that they're in, but it's not the quietest, either. Someone's bound to walk by soon. The next day, Akashi folds his hands, listens to Aomine explain, and then gives each of them a black eye. Kise feels the skin under his eyebrow split open, and wonders how on earth he's going to explain this at his shoot tomorrow. “We have rules,” Akashi says, toying absently with Murasakibara's hair. “If you break them, there are consequences.” * A month later, Kise wraps his hands around his manager's throat, squeezes, and dunks on Aomine immediately after. He whistles all the way home, spinning the ball on his finger. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- They meet after school, on the basketball court. Kuroko's tired, tired to his bones, he's playing himself and somehow losing. It's not a pretty sight, he's certain, but he draws himself up tall anyways when a figure steps forward out of the doorway.“Hi,” a boy says, around his age, and Kuroko looks down at red shoes that could probably be used as baby bassinets. “Uh, you kind of suck. No offense.”“It's not a good day,” Kuroko admits.“Yeah, I have those,” the boy says. “I'll play you, if you want.”Kuroko looks him up and down. “Are you going to go easy on me?”The boy scoffs. “Fuck no.”“Good.”They play for ten minutes, and then the boy stops. “Dude, this is bumming me out. I'm not even trying; I think we should call it quits.”The score is twenty-nine to zero. Kuroko has to agree. He bows, panting. “Thank you for the game.”“Yeah.” The boy makes an abortive gesture to bow back, then rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “You come to this court a lot?”“Well, I go to school here,” Kuroko replies.The boy straightens. “What? Seriously? I've never seen you before, I thought I knew all the basketball players at Seirin!”“I play...on a different team,” Kuroko says, unsure how much he should say. “In the park.”“No way! Street ball?” The boy grins. “Do they all suck as bad as you?”“That was very rude,” Kuroko glares. “And no, as it happens, they do not.”“I'm just messing with you, I can tell you're better than that. Wouldn't've bothered playing you in the first place otherwise,” the boy shrugs. “What's your name, anyways?”“Kuroko Tetsuya. Yours?”“I'm Tai – I mean, Kagami Taiga.”Kuroko cocks his head. “Where are you from?”“I'm from Tokyo, I just spent the last ten years in America.” Kagami scowls at his shoes. “Still getting my accent back.”“It's not terrible,” Kuroko reassures him. “Your English must be excellent, at any rate.”“Yeah, tell that to my English professor,” Kagami sighs. “Whatever.”Kuroko looks at the sun. It's starting to descend; they have business to attend to in the evening. “I have to go,” he says. “It was nice to meet you, Kagami.”“Oh, yeah, same,” Kagami says. “Rematch tomorrow?”Kuroko hesitates, then says, “Yes, I'd like that very much.”When he meets the others, Kise asks him why he's smiling.The guy they're meeting isn't anyone from the park, just some lowlife gangbanger who put Momoi in the hospital a few days ago. Aomine has a baseball bat, and Kise is tossing a hammer to himself gleefully.“Momoi-san's going to find out about this,” Kuroko feels the need to point out.“Good,” Aomine growls. “Maybe then she'll stop hanging around with fucking bangers all the time.”“She won't find out,” Akashi says calmly. “He's no different than any of the others. They say gang violence is getting worse in this area, you know. The newspapers don't even bother reporting the body count from turf warfare.” He glances at Midorima. “Shintarou, tell me you know how to use that thing.”“Of course I do,” Midorima says stiffly, fitting his hand over the katana's handle. “Shuutoku offers fencing classes, which I have made use of.”“How fortunate,” Akashi says. “Leave it at home next time. You know how I feel about flashy weapons.”“Aka-chin, you need to let the thing with the chainsaw go,” Murasakibara says.In the end, the guy's only brought three friends, so there's little for Kuroko to do. He takes a few turns with the bat, on Momoi's behalf, but Aomine's the one to finish it.“Kind of a slow night,” Kise says, wiping his hands on his shirt. “Do we know anyone else?”“Should've left one alive to get some more friends,” Aomine muses. There's a skull fragment with a clot of hair stuck to the top of his bat. He flicks it off disinterestedly.Akashi frowns. “Go play basketball, if you're so restless,” he says. “We've dealt our punishment. That is enough.”“Is that what this is about?” Aomine demands, stepping forward. “I thought the whole point of the games was for you to figure out who needs taking down.”“The point is to win,” Akashi says in a low voice, meeting him right under his chin. “Basketball's only part of the game, Daiki, I wouldn't expect you to understand. I only eliminate those who are in my way.” He turns the scissors over in his hand. “Are you in my way, Daiki?”“I can see how one-on-one isn't your strong suit,” Kagami laughs, dunking on him easily. “But damn, that vanishing shot? I bet your style is off the chain in team play.”Kuroko braces his hands on his knees, winded. “I'm stronger as a voice in the chorus,” he admits. “You're very fast.”“You're just slow,” Kagami says bluntly. “You know, if you wanted to play seriously, I bet I could get you a spot on the team. If you show our coach what you can do, she'll almost definitely put you on first string.” He punches Kuroko good-naturedly in the shoulder, nearly sending him sprawling. “And she'll whip your butt into shape, too. She's a real hard-ass.”“I wish I could,” Kuroko says, and realizes with a start that part of him really means that. “I'm very...attached to my current team. I don't think it would go over well if I left.”Kagami shrugs, twirls the ball on his finger. “Whatever. Hey, you hungry? I'm fucking starving.”“A little, actually.”“C'mon, lets go to Maji Burger. I'm buying. I'm gonna eat like, fifty of those things.”As it turns out, Kagami is not even remotely exaggerating. In fact, he's probably the most voracious eater Kuroko has ever known, and he's seen Murasakibara eat an entire chicken in one sitting before.“We should play sometime, in the park,” Kagami says somewhere between burgers twenty-nine and thirty. “I could totally get some of the guys on the team to come out for it.”Kuroko freezes, his hand tightening reflexively on his milkshake. “No,” he says, and it's probably too loud, so he lowers his voice. “No, I don't think that's a good idea.”“Tetsu!” Aomine barks, shaking his guard effortlessly and darting part Kuroko. A quick swipe of his hand is all it takes, and then Aomine's sailing down the court, tossing the ball into the hoop over his shoulder to several whoops and jeers from the crowd.“They're lively today,” Midorima says unenthusiastically. “Akashi's probably tripled our take by now.”Kuroko feels uneasy, and he isn't sure why. “Let's just finish this game,” he says, jogging away from Midorima. Kise's stolen the ball again, he's trying to copy Aomine's charge but Kuroko can see it's not going to work. He meets Akashi's eyes from the bench and gets into position to backtap the ball when their opposition's shooting guard steals it back.Murasakibara blows past his two defenders and dunks the ball savagely, glaring at Kuroko. “Stop trying so hard,” he complains. “These guys aren't even that good. You're making me tired.”“Don't be a dick,” Aomine says, elbowing him. “Think of all the candy you can buy after this.”Murasakibara gives him a long-suffering look. If he says something, Kuroko doesn't hear it, because someone collides with his shoulder and he goes tumbling to the ground.“Shit! Sorry, I didn't see you,” their opponent's center says, reaching for his hand to pull him up. He glances nervously at Akashi. “That really wasn't on purpose, I swear.”“Thank you,” Kuroko gasps, regaining his equilibrium. “I'm alright, but please watch where you're going.”Next to him, Kise snickers under his breath. Then he glances at the crowd and says, “Whoa. Kurokocchi, that guy's looking right at you.”Kuroko looks, and his heart goes to his throat. Kagami is standing in the audience with his hands in his pockets and a quietly awed expression on his face. It turns to a wide, sheepish grin when he sees that Kuroko's spotted him.He shouldn't, he knows he shouldn't, but Kuroko cuts a glance straight to Akashi, and sees with a sinking feeling that Akashi has noticed Kagami as well.“You came,” is the only thing he can think of to say, afterwards.Kagami gives him a strange look. “Why are you being weird? Tons of people came, not just me.”I only eliminate those who are in my way.“Tetsu's kind of a weird guy,” Aomine says, swaggering over and throwing his arm over Kuroko's shoulder. “If you were friends with him, you'd probably know that.”“Fuck you,” Kagami snarls, stepping forward. “Kuroko and I are friends, we practice together at school every goddamn day. The hell is it to you, anyways?”“Jesus,” Aomine barks out a harsh laugh, covering up his surprise. “I was joking, chill the fuck out.” He glances sideways at Kuroko. “Every day, huh?”“Tetsuya, I'm glad you decided to finally introduce us to your new friend,” Akashi says, walking over. “Taiga, isn't it?”Kagami blinks. “Uh, yeah.”“Interesting.” Akashi looks him over, and Kuroko feels something clench uncomfortably in his gut. “A strong player. I'd be interested to see your talents.”“I'm not anything like you guys,” Kagami admits, looking wistful. “At least, not yet.”Aomine smirks.“Perhaps you need stronger opponents,” Akashi says. “Are you free this evening?”“Akashi-kun,” Kuroko says, dread filling his chest.“Sure,” Kagami grins. “You wanna play?”Akashi smiles back. “I would like that, yes.”Kuroko steps forward. “Akashi-kun, please.”Kagami frowns at him.“Tetsuya, calm yourself. We'll meet here, of course.”“Yeah, sounds good,” Kagami says. “Cool.” He bounces on his heels. “See you later, Kuroko.”“Do you think Akashi actually wants to play him?” Kise asks, tilting his head.“He's not a candidate for a rematch,” Midorima says. “Unless Akashi knows something we don't. Perhaps he's going to join us.”“Tch. Fuck that,” Aomine says. “Did you see Tetsu's face?”“Stop reminding me,” Kise whines. “I hope Akashicchi doesn't hurt him too much, seeing Kuroko's sad face breaks my heart.”Murasakibara sighs deeply. “I'm bored,” he says. “I hope we get to kill him.”Next to him, Midorima shifts uncomfortably, and the others lapse into thoughtful silence.They meet at the usual time. Kuroko notices Aomine's brought his bat again, which Akashi instructs him to put away.“For now,” he says.Kuroko doesn't speak.Kagami walks onto the court some minutes later. “Oi,” he says, squinting. “Any chance we could turn the lights on? Kinda hard to play in the dark like this.”“In time,” Akashi says. “How are your reflexes?”Kagami stares at him. “My what?”Kuroko doesn't want to look, doesn't want to see, but his eyes travel to Akashi's sleeve anyway, the flash of steel there. He wants to scream, wants to launch himself at Akashi and tell Kagami to run, but he's frozen, the words are stuck in his throat.Akashi moves.Kagami ducks.No one seems to be breathing. There's a soft thud as the shears land somewhere behind Kagami, and he reaches up to touch his cheek. “What the fuck.”There's blood on his hand, but Kuroko can see even in the dim light that it's just a scratch.Murasakibara, of all people, lets out a soft whistle.“Interesting,” Akashi says. “Kuroko, I assume you no longer wish to play with us.”“Akashi-kun is correct,” Kuroko rasps, finding his voice at last.“Hold up – what the fuck, seriously? Did you just try to kill me?” Kagami looks at Kuroko. “Did he just try to kill me?”“Don't be ridiculous,” Akashi says. “If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead.”“You're just going to let him take Kuroko?” Aomine bellows, after Kuroko and Kagami have walked away together.“Tetsuya has been drifting away from us. He no longer values winning,” Akashi says. “I have no use for anyone like that on my team. Taiga will make a suitable partner for him.”“So,” Kise says, slowly, like he's on the brink of a revelation, “any of us can leave? If we want?”“If you want,” Akashi nods. He looks at Midorima. “Just don't get in my way, once you do.”It's several minutes of silent walking through the park before Kagami says anything. Kuroko, for once, speaks first.“I'm sorry,” he says, feeling those words to be the most inadequate ones he's ever offered.Kagami looks at him as though he'd forgotten he was there. “It's not too deep. And I live alone, so it's not like there's anybody I'll have to explain it to. Did you really used to kill people?”“I did. We did,” Kuroko says. “I didn't want – I'm sorry.”“You're not,” Kagami says dryly. “Not about that, anyways. Whatever, I'm sure you had your reasons.”He supposes he did, though Kuroko isn't sure he ever needed any. “Do you want us to stop being friends?”Kagami shrugs. “Nah. You're done with it now, right?”Kuroko nods fervently. “Very much so.”“Cool.” Kagami grins, reaches over and ruffles his hair. “Hey, maybe one day we'll play your old team and actually beat them.”“I'm content to wait for that day,” Kuroko says, unable to stop his answering smile. “Do you still think there's a spot for me on Seirin?”“Yeah, definitely. The coach has been asking about you, she calls you my little shadow.” Kagami blushes. “She doesn't mean it the way it sounds, I don't think.”“I don't mind,” Kuroko says. “You're really – that's it? You're okay with me?”Kagami pushes his hands into his pockets. “The thing is, I don't have that many friends,” he says. “Gotta take what I can get, even if they're serial killers.”“I'm not a serial killer,” Kuroko protests.“Relax, I'm just messing with you. We're cool.” Kagami extends his fist. “Start fresh?”Kuroko nods, satisfied, and bumps Kagami's fist with his.He doesn't hear from any of them until Kise calls him, some weeks later.“Kise-kun,” he says, answering on the third ring.“Kurokocchi!” Kise chirps. “Guess what? I'm going to be a model for Fashion Week in Paris!”Kuroko congratulates him. “Does Akashi-kun know?”“Ah, I think I mentioned it to him,” Kise says, sounding vaguely guilty. “I haven't been going to practices much anymore. Or games. I have this new manager, Kasamatsu, he's a total slave driver. It's hard to find time to play basketball.”Kuroko says, “Oh.”“Besides, the team kind of fell apart after you left. Midorimacchi quit a day after you, and I heard Aominecchi stopped going to practice too. He plays in games sometimes, though.” Kise pauses. “Now that Momoicchi is going to have a baby, he'll probably quit.”“Probably,” Kuroko agrees. Akashi, for all his faults, would want Aomine to prioritize his loyalty to Momoi above the rest of them. “I didn't realize Momoi-san was pregnant.”“She's very frightening,” Kise complains. “Yesterday I offered to go shopping with her for maternity wear and she threatened to cut out my tongue! Can you believe that?” He doesn't wait for Kuroko's response. “Anyways, we definitely have to get together before I go to Paris! Are you free for coffee this weekend?”“I think so,” Kuroko says. “We have a game, but I'll text you.”“Ooh, maybe I'll come watch! I could drag Midorimacchi and his new friend along, wouldn't that be fun?”Kuroko wonders about Kise, sometimes. “I'll text you,” he says again. “Goodbye, Kise-kun.”In retrospect, Akashi shouldn't've expected it to last forever, or perhaps even as long as it did. Even Atsushi, his most faithful disciple, was bound to move on eventually. His new English tutor has him quite taken, treating him with American sweets and luring him away to weekends in Akita. Akashi could eliminate him, but Atsushi has never particularly enjoyed the game as it is. Killing Himuro Tatsuya won't change that.He finds himself at their old court, not the one in the park, but the other court, the one with bloodstains in the cement cracks that even the city's power washer's couldn't get out. The nets are still chains; he smiles at the memory of Daiki tearing one down and using it to –“You finally showed,” a voice says, low and deadly. Akashi sees three guys stalk onto the court in his peripheral vision, waits until they're fully illuminated in the moonlight to turn around.“Do I know you?”“Four of my boys died on this court,” the middle one says, cracking his knuckles. “Cops called it turf wars. Funny thing is, this isn't anyone's turf.”“It's Sumiyoshi-kai territory, actually,” Akashi says, for the sake of accuracy. Not that it matters. They don't care about this part of town.The guy snorts. “You're not yakuza.”“I'm not,” Akashi admits. “Though I admire their particular brand of efficiency.”“Yeah? I like to take my time, personally,” the guy says. “Sucks that you happened to be here all by yourself.”Akashi slides his hand into his jacket pocket, fingers the shears until they're up his sleeve with the razor-sharp tip pressing into his palm.“Oh,” he says, smiling. “I wouldn't say that.”
1083823	Seifuku Zhi Fu	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Oikawa Tsurara, Nura Rikuo", "Fandom": "Nurarihyon no Mago \| Nura: Rise of the Yokai Clan", "Language": "Bahasa Indonesia", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by sugarycrystals", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-12-15T00:00:00", "words": "1,328", "Additional Tags": "Uniforms, School Uniforms, Midnight, Teenage Drama, Fluff, Bahasa Indonesia", "Relationship": "Nura Rikuo/Oikawa Tsurara", "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 }	"Saa, Yuki-Onna. Karena kau telah terpilih untuk menjadi pengawal Waka di sekolah, kau harus melakukan tugasmu dengan baik—jaga dia, lindungi dia jika ada bahaya. Besok kau sudah bisa menjalankan tugasmu itu. Bersiap-siaplah bersama Aotabo." . Tsurara tengah menyibukkan dirinya dengan memilah-pakai-menilai pakaian-pakaiannya untuk ia pakai esok hari. Ehm, singkatnya, ia tengah sibuk memilih serta mencoba-coba pakaian apa yang pantas untuk ia kenakan di hari pertama sekolahnya. Well, bukan benar-benar sekolah, sih. Ia melakukannya dalam rangka memenuhi tugasnya dari Karasu-Tengu; menjadi pengawal Sandaime klan Nura yang juga mengikutinya di sekolah."Aku suka baju ini! Tapi…, kok rasanya tidak cocok, ya, dengan rok ini? Ah, coba saja pakai rok yang itu! Ahh…, tidak-tidak. Hu-uh, rasanya malah jadi mencolok pakai yang ini!" Tsurara terus-terusan bergumam dan mendengus sendiri saat berulang kali ia memakai setelan yang berbeda-beda. Ada yang menurutnya mencolok, jelek, tidak serasi, terlalu meriah, culun, aneh, bahkan mengerikan. Entahlah. Baginya, yang terpenting adalah pakaian tersebut pantas—benar-benar pantas—dan disukai Rikuo. Yah, ia memang ingin dilihat menarik oleh waka-nya itu.Sudah hampir dua jam Tsurara habiskan hanya untuk mencoba pakaian-pakaian tersebut. Berulang kali ia bercermin setelah memakai pilihannya, ia kembali melepas setelan tersebut. Tidak heran bahwa kamarnya berantakan akibat pakaian-pakaiannya. Sungguh, saking begitu bersemangatnya dan ingin tampil menarik di esok hari, ia sama sekali tidak menghiraukan keadaan sekitarnya, sekalipun saat itu semua penghuni mansion klan Nura tengah asyik minum-minum di ruang utama. Bukannya bergabung atau apa, ia justru malah terus memutarbalikkan otaknya untuk lebih memilih lagi dalam menentukan pakaian yang anggun dan cantik sebagai setelan sekolahnya.Lima belas menit berlalu. Hampir sebagian besar penghuni mansion klan Nura sudah K.O. karena tidak kuat meneguk sake lagi dan menahan efek yang diberikan dari arak khas Jepang tersebut. Beberapanya pun yang masih setengah sadar, dan yang masih terjaga karena tak begitu banyak minum, kembali ke tempatnya masing-masing. Berangsur-angsur orang-orang meninggalkan ruang utama yang hanya menyisakan beberapa orang yang telah tertidur mabuk. Sementara itu, di waktu hampir memasuki pukul satu malam, Tsurara tersenyum dan terkekeh senang karena akhirnya ia menemukan setelan yang pas untuk ia kenakan besok."Aaah, manisnya! Aku suka paduan ini! Besok aku akan memakainya. Pasti Rikuo-sama akan menyukai ini!" jeritnya girang melihat refleksi dirinya yang terbalut setelan manisnya di cermin. Ia berputar-putar di tempat, membuat rok pendek berenda yang dipakainya agak mengembang."Hihihi, tak kusangka aku akan dapat memilih pilihanku sendiri tanpa bantuan Kejoro dan Wakana-sama! Hihihi. Mereka pasti akan terkejut dan kagum melihat ini besok!" gumamnya senang, bangga akan dirinya sendiri. Hm, berlebihan sih, memang. Tapi…, yah, sekarang ini hatinya berbunga-bunga sekali hanya dengan pakaian manis yang terbalut di tubuhnya. Bahkan jantungnya pun berdebar-debar membayangkan reaksi Rikuo melihat tampilannya besok.Saking senangnya, sepertinya ia tidak menyadari bahwa— Whuush "E-eh? A-ara…? Bunga Sakura…?" Tsurara bergumam, begitu matanya menangkap helaian kelopak bunga Sakura yang datang dibawa embusan angin malam masuk ke dalam kamarnya. Tiba-tiba, matanya membelalak dan wajahnya sedikit merona. "I-ini…"Ups, sepertinya ia tahu dan sadar akan hal ini."Yo, Yuki-Onna." Deg! "Ri-Rikuo-sama…?" Tsurara terkejut mendapati sosok tampan berbalut kimono hitam dan yukata biru serta berambut putih dengan sedikit corak hitam itu berdiri di ambang pintu kamarnya. Ya, sosok itu adalah Nura Rikuo. Sandaime klan Nura yang tengah berwujud yōkai berdiri gagah dengan wajah karismatiknya. Iris semerah darahnya menatap lembut gadis salju di klan-nya itu. Lantas, mendapati bahwa waka-nya tengah memerhatikannya, wajah Tsurara memerah."Ya, ini aku," Rikuo berkata dengan suara rendahnya yang berwibawa, merespons keterkejutan dan kebingungan Tsurara akan kehadiran tak terduga-nya. "Sedang bersiap-siap untuk besok, eh?" Ia menyeringai. "Gakkō?"Lagi-lagi mata besarnya kembali membelalak, terkejut. Jantungnya mendadak terpompa tiga kali lebih cepat. "A-ara?! Ri-Rikuo-sama ta—""Tenanglah. Hanya aku saja kok, yang tahu. Bocah itu tidak tahu kalau besok kau dan Aotabo akan mengawalnya di sekolah. Aku tidak akan memberitahu hal itu padanya." Rikuo sudah lebih dulu menjawab pertanyaan yang belum tersampaikan oleh Tsurara tadi, atau bisa dibilang ia menginterupsi omongan Tsurara. Seringainya yang terlihat agak menakutkan itu (namun bagi Tsurara itu sangatlah membuatnya makin tampan) masih tercetak di wajahnya."A-ah…, baiklah, Ri-Rikuo-sama… W-Wakarimasu…," jawab Tsurara pelan, sedikit menundukkan kepalanya. Ia merasa gugup saat ini, sampai-sampai lututnya terasa lemas.Entah kenapa, Tsurara juga merasa malu sosok yōkai waka-nya ini harus mendapati dirinya yang tengah berpenampilan seperti ini. Bukan, bukannya ia tidak suka atau apa. Tapi…, ia hanya tidak siap dan tidak mengharapkan sosok yōkai Rikuo-lah yang melihat ini. Aaahh…, entahlah. Tsurara sendiri juga bingung kenapa. Mungkin karena kamarnya ini yang berantakan? Duh. Dalam hati ia berkomat-kamit sendiri; A-apa Rikuo-sama merasa aneh melihatku begini? K-kenapa dia memandangku begitu? A-apa pitanya miring? Ba-bajuku ada yang robek, ya?! Atau aku memakai bajunya terbalik?! Bagaimana ini?! A-aku takut Rikuo-sama tidak suka ini! Ah, ya ampun! Memalukan! Keringat dingin mulai bercucuran di pelipisnya. Tak dapat dipungkiri juga bahwa jantungnya berdetak amat cepat.Melihat Tsurara yang menunduk dengan tubuh canggungnya itu, Rikuo mengulas senyum dan melembutkan pandangannya pada Tsurara. Masih di tempat yang sama, ia berkata, "Aku menghargai usaha kerasmu, Yuki-Onna. Tapi, sebenarnya kau tidak perlu sampai memberantakkan kamarmu sendiri." Ia sedikit terkekeh pelan."E-eh?" Lagi-lagi Tsurara dibuat terkejut dan heran oleh Rikuo. Ia pun menengadahkan kepalanya, berusaha memandang waka-nya. Apa maksud perkataannya?Rikuo menggaruk lehernya yang tidak gatal. "Sepertinya Karasu-Tengu lupa memberitahu ini. Kau tahu kan bocah itu chūgakusei? Dan chūgakusei… memakai seifuku," ucap Rikuo memberitahu, membuat Tsurara kembali membelalakkan matanya dan terdiam. "Sō...,ambil ini. Tangkap, Yuki-Onna!" Entah dari mana ia dapatkan, Rikuo melempar sebuah bungkusan. Lantas, mendengar apa yangwaka-nya perintahkan, Tsurara pun menangkap bungkusan tersebut."S-sērā seifuku?" Tsurara mengerjapkan matanya berulang kali memandang bungkusan di tangannya itu yang berisi... seragam… sekolah? "A-ah! A-arigatō, Waka!" katanya senang, saat menyadari apa maksud dari semua ini. "Ma-maafkan saya! S-saya lupa akan hal itu," lanjutnya menyesal, malu pada dirinya sendiri.Rikuo terkekeh pelan melihatnya. Sementara itu, Tsurara merasa terpana mendengar kekehan waka-nya yang cukup jarang ia keluarkan. "Tidak usah dipikirkan. Besok kau pakai, ya," katanya mengingatkan. "Kau tahu? Hanya dengan kimono yang sehari-hari kaupakai, kau sudah manis." Deg! "Aa-a…" Tsurara tergagap. Wajahnya memerah. Rasanya jantungnya nyaris melompat dari tempatnya mendengar untaian kata dari kalimat terakhir Rikuo masuk ke telinganya. Sungguh, ia tak percaya hal di luar dugaan seperti ini terjadi padanya.Belum sempat Tsurara membalas perkataan Rikuo, sang Sandaime kembali bersua, "Sore o," katanya, sembari menunjuk pakaian yang dikenakan gadis salju-nya itu, "aisuru." Ia kembali tersenyum, sebelum pada akhirnya menghilang di balik embusan angin bersama bunga Sakura. Pergi meninggalkan Tsurara yang membeku di tempat dengan wajah merahnya."R-Rikuo-sama...," gumam Tsurara pelan, masih dengan tubuhnya yang membeku di tempat dan wajah merahnya. "Hihihi, dōmo arigatō, Waka!" Ia terkekeh senang sembari memeluk erat seragam yang telah Rikuo berikan padanya. Lagi, ia kembali berputar di tempat karena rasa senang yang membunga-bunga di hatinya.Tsurara memang tidak menyangka hal tersebut akan terjadi padanya. Awalnya rasa aneh, panik, canggung, dan sebagainya terus berkecamuk di hatinya. Tapi pada akhirnya? Yap, sekali lagi, ia merasa sangat senang waka-nya menyukai setelan pakaian yang dipakainya (dan diniatkannya untuk dipakai besok, tadinya).Dan lagi... Rikuo juga mengatakan bahwa ia manis.Malam itu pun Tsurara pergi ke alam tidurnya dengan hati yang tetap berbunga-bunga, juga masih dengan semangat yang sama dalam mengerjakan tugasnya besok. . . Paginya, suara berisik nan panik sudah menyerbu kediaman klan Nura. Wah, apa yang terjadi?"Huwaa, Waka! Tunggu aku! Aaahh, Aotabo, ayo cepat! Nanti kita terlambat masuk!"Olala, rupanya, kedua pengawal setia Sandaime klan Nura bangun terlambat! Tidak disangka bahwa baru saja tadi malam Tsurara merasakan euforia-nya, paginya ia malah mendapat sedikit kesialan.Well, meski begitu... Tsurara tetap tidak bisa menyalahkan waka-nya atas apa yang terjadi pagi ini. Dan tetap saja, Tsurara akan selalu mengingat kejadian tak ternilai itu.Sembari berlari cepat menuju sekolah Rikuo, Tsurara tersenyum dengan tangan yang meremas bagian depan baju sekolahnya, yang diberikan oleh yōkai Rikuo. . . . -END- Translation Seifuku : seragamSērā seifuku : seragam pelaut; sailor uniformSandaime : pewaris ketigaGakkō : sekolahChūgakusei : murid SMPSō : jadi...; well...Sore o aisuru : aku suka itu
1095389	By Any Other Name	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Binnie Hodbin, Alf Hodbin, Eileen O'Reilly", "Fandom": "Oxford Time Travel Universe - Connie Willis", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Ashura", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-12-22T00:00:00", "words": "2,200", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "Yuletide 2013", "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’s in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet... -Romeo and Juliet Act II Sc. ii There were names everywhere. People shouted them at each other in the crowded tube stations – with relief, panic, hope, desperation. They were scrawled onto the labels sewn into Binnie's second- and third- and fourth-hand clothes, on the covers of magazines, and in the rows and rows of advertisements Eileen pored through in the newspapers every night. There were a few that kept turning up, again and again, circled in dull pencil in the folded pages. Polly, Mary, Colin, Eileen. Binnie had long since worked out that they were secret messages, even if she hadn't cracked the code. They were secrets that would lead Eileen away, back to Polly, back to the glittery space in the trees. Back to where – no, when – she came from.Alf and Binnie weren't supposed to know that, of course. But they were good at keeping secrets. They had to be. And whatever happened to them after Eileen left, wherever they were sent, this was a respite. Breathing space. The eye of the storm, maybe, because the war was still raging around them, full of air raid sirens and crumbling buildings, bombs and aeroplanes and trembling people huddled in crowded tube stations, looking in dread for the names of people who would never come back.“You could take one of those,” Alf had suggested once, trying to be helpful. “Loads of people get lost, right? It'd take ages before anybody'd be able to tell.” “I don't want a dead person's name,” Binnie sniffed.She changed it almost daily. Eileen and Sir Godfrey were always dutiful about remembering to use her chosen nom de plume of the day was, even if the others quickly forgot. She got through Vivian twice more, Greta, Agatha, Ginger, Vera, and, because Miss Laburnum would insist on them doing Peter Pan, Wendy. After a news report on the Queen's visit to the east end, she spent a few days as Elizabeth, and from Sir Godfrey's well-loved Shakespeare, tried out Juliet, Portia, Sylvia and Miranda. Only once had she claimed Viola, and Sir Godfrey had shaken his head. “Not Viola,” he said, and she wondered if that was too much like taking a dead person's name. As if in apology, he added, “Perhaps Cordelia.” That night the street she and Alf used to live on was bombed to dust and ashes, and Cordelia had slipped through the shadows and rubble to stare at the remains of her house. She tried to summon up some kind of feeling of loss, but none came. It was only bricks and stones and horrible neighbours and the stench of an overtaxed sewer. Alf crawled out from beneath one of the ruined houses, clutching half a small figure of an aeroplane. “I don't see why you need a different name,” he grumbled. “Nobody'll ever call you anything but Binnie anyway.”“They will if I tell them too,” Binnie countered, though she corrected herself almost immediately. “Well. Eileen will. And Sir Godfrey.”Alf's fingers tensed around the broken model and he tossed it back into the dirt. “So what? Eileen's leavin'. She'll go like Polly did, and we won't ever see her again.” “Shut up,” growled Binnie viciously, and stalked back the way they'd come. The roads were too blocked for the buses, and they walked all the way home.* * * Mr and Mrs Townsend of Upper Notting announce the engagement of their daughter Polly to Flight Officer Colin Templer... Binnie was the one to find it this time, and she considered tearing out the page so Eileen wouldn't see. “Do you think they did? Get married, I mean. Polly and Colin,” Alf asked, without looking up from his map.“Probably.” Binnie shrugged. “Did you see the way they were looking at each other?” Alf sniffed. “Like I care about that? I was trying to figure out why an RAF pilot was being an air raid warden. But he wasn't either, was he? All that stuff about getting shot down, he made that up.” “Maybe.” Binnie didn't really care about that part, and she certainly didn't mean to defend Colin, who turned up and took Polly away and who would take Eileen away too. But fair was fair. “We don't know what he did before he got here. Mike was one of their group too, and he was at Dunkirk and a spy.” She wasn't actually certain about the last part, but if Mike was leaving these advertisements, he was clearly doing something secret. And Eileen still thought he was dead – or he was dead, or would be dead, or however that worked with time travel. Time travel. Nobody would believe them if Alf and Binnie tried to tell them. Except maybe Sir Godfrey. He'd had this look, when Polly left. Binnie had been watching all their faces, even if Alf hadn't. Besides, all of them, Polly and Mike and Eileen, were utter rubbish at secrets. They talked about it all the time, giving each other meaningful looks and whispering so that it was impossible not know they were up to something, and all you had to do was listen, and you figured a lot of it out. “I bet we could stop it.” Alf was still staring fixedly at the map, but his eyes hadn't even blinked, and she didn't think he was actually looking at it. “You know. Keep an eye out for Colin or Dunworthy or whoever. They don't know we know, so we could just...lead them the wrong way, like. Keep them from taking her.” Binnie considered it. She really did. They could just keep Eileen away from other time travellers, and she'd be stuck here, and have to stay with them. She crunched up the newspaper and threw it. “You know we can't. If you love somebody, you want them to be happy.”Alf sighed, and pushed the map away. “I know,” he said, “but sometimes I wish we didn't.” * * * When peace breaks out again (as it will, do you know) an the lights come on again, we shall look back on these days and remember gratefully the things that brought us cheer and gave us heart even in the glummest hours. -Newspaper advertisement, 1941 Binnie threw all her weight onto the accelerator, yanking the car into third gear as they hurtled past the black shadows of the buildings and toward the heavy crimson fog on the horizon. Her uniform was askew, her hair poking out in wild wisps beneath her hat.“You missed the road!” Meg shouted from next to her, gripping the edge of her seat. Binnie shook her head and hauled on the steering wheel. “I didn't. That way's still blocked from the fires yesterday. We'll take Whitecross instead.” Meg subsided, her ash-smudged face still rigid with worry. Binnie was well-known for her knowledge of the back roads of London. Even without street signs, and with the landscape in constant flux as buildings, shelters and junctions were blotted from the skyline, she knew her way around the city. She hauled the Daimler down the narrow streets, the way lit only by the thin beams from headlamps which could barely penetrate the thick fog of swirling dust and debris. When Binnie signed up to drive the ambulance, she'd expected Eileen to object. She'd had it in her head to sneak away, but she found she couldn't – not to Alf and not to Eileen. So she'd marched up to Eileen and said, “I'm going to drive ambulances.” “You're too young,” Eileen said, not sounding at all surprised. “They won't take you at fifteen.” “I won't tell them I'm fifteen,” Binnie said scornfully. As if lying about her age was an obstacle! She added defiantly, “I'm a good driver, and they need all the good drivers they can get.” And to her surprise, Eileen had just made her promise to be careful. Later, with the benefit of hindsight, she would realise that this was probably because being an ambulance driver was more useful and not considerably less dangerous than anything else she was likely to be doing. So Binnie, who had been an evacuee and a bramblebush and Sleeping Beauty, had joined a crew of girls who drove cars. Her usual partner was Meg, a wisp of a girl with fine dark hair who looked even younger than Binnie. The sky ahead was streaked crimson and black, as if the smouldering coals of every fire in London had been scattered amongst the clouds. It had been years now since the stars had been visible through the smoke and fog, even now the nightly raids had stopped. Binnie navigated by shadows, winding her way through dark alleyways and uneven, crumbling streets. “There – over there!” Meg said suddenly, leaning forward, and gesturing frantically at the window. “What? We're not there yet,” Binnie said, but she was already slowing. Meg pointed.“That's a Daimler.” She was pointing. “With two girls outside – I think they've broken down. We should stop in case they've got a patient.” Binnie slammed on the brakes and the Daimler sputtered to a halt. Meg had the door open and was already halfway out of the car by the time she'd got it out of gear. Binnie followed her, clambering out of the door and making her way over to them. “You all right?” The FANY nearest was slim and blonde, her cap just slightly askew on her head. “We've broken down,” she said as she turned, and the gleam of the headlamp illuminated her face. Binnie stopped short. It was Polly. “But you're not supposed to be here!” The words left her lips before she could bite them back, but Polly showed no sign of having understood her. “I know,” she explained. “We were supposed to go down the Mews, but the road was blocked, and then we ran over something. It's just the tyre, I'm sure.” Which wasn't what Binnie meant at all, but it gave her time to recover. “They haven't got any patients,” Meg told Binnie. “Just a flat.” Binnie nodded. “I can fix that, it'll only be a minute. Hold on, we've got a spanner under the seat.” Meg rushed off to retrieve it, and Polly smiled in relief. It was unquestionably her, and Binnie struggled to find a way to ask her why she was here, now that they had a moment alone.But she still showed no sign of recognising Binnie at all. “Thanks for the help,” she said. “Which station are you?” “Croydon. St. John's.” Not a flicker of recognition, but Binnie tried anyway. “What are you doing here?”Polly smiled sheepishly. “We're from Dulwich, but the roads are an absolute mess after the V1 hit yesterday. No direct casualties, thankfully, but it's still a disaster. We're lucky you saw us.” Meg came dashing back then, waving a spanner and preventing Binnie from asking any more directly. “Here you go, Hodbin. Don't worry, she's ace with a spanner, you'll be on the way in no time, back to – ” Meg faltered, and Polly supplied the answer for her.“Dulwich. This is Talbot,” she said, gesturing to the other FANY, who was still shining a torch around the fender. “I'm Mary Kent.”“Shepard,” Meg said, and jerked her hand at Binnie. “And Hodbin.”“Eileen,” Binnie said, hoping for a reaction, but Polly showed no sign of familiarity at that, either. Binnie let out a frustrated breath and crouched down to get the flat tyre off. The Dulwich ambulance was an ancient Daimler, so old Binnie half expected it to have a hand-crank. Half the bolts were so rusted she was afraid they'd break off in her hand, but in the end she managed it. She always did. “Thank you,” Polly said when she'd finished. “You're utterly brilliant.” “You're welcome,” Binnie said, and Meg was pulling her back toward their car. She wanted to try one last thing, leave with some sort of parting shot, but she couldn't think of one in time, and they had an incident to get to. They waved quick farewells to Talbot and Mary Kent, and climbed back in the rickety doors to their car. “I didn't know your name was Eileen,” Meg said as Binnie shifted the Daimler into gear. Neither did I, Binnie thought. She was clearly going to be Eileen for a while, now – but it felt like it made sense. It felt right. “Though I suppose I'd never thought to ask. Binnie's just short for Hodbin, of course. Why do you use that instead?” Too many reasons, and not a single one Binnie wanted to offer right now. “It's my mum's name,” she said instead. “It'd get confusing if we were both called the same thing.” “I suppose it would,” Meg agreed, her whole body turned to look out the window. Binnie drove into the darkness. The sky slowly began to lighten – not real dawn, but only some of the smoke dissipating and floating away – and with it, just as steady and just as unstoppable, came the realisation that she'd told the truth after all.
1051432	Ye Xi	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Eliot Spencer, Alec Hardison", "Fandom": "Leverage", "Language": "中文-普通话國語", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by shunziqing", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-11-19T00:00:00", "words": "1,360", "Additional Tags": "Chinese, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot", "Relationship": "Alec Hardison/Eliot Spencer", "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 }	衍生：leverage（都市侠盗），剧集201相关配对：Hardison/Eliot 等级：NC-17 情节：……情节？啥情节？警告：个人觉得很崩，并且一点也不火辣。另，请留意上下夜袭潜行、蓄势、猛扑、得手！愿望是好的，但也要考虑到施袭者和目标物之间的实力差距。在距离目标还有两公尺的时候，被仰面朝天掀翻在床上。Hardison盯着鼻子尖前的拳头，从肺部发出一声气体被挤掉的声音：“呃——我一直以为你会在枕头下藏把刀什么的。” 夜袭失败——唔，也许不完全是。压在他身上的男人没有挪窝，那体重——说实话，有点沉。年轻的黑客咧嘴，沉沉黑夜中就只看见他白漆漆的眼白和白漆漆的牙，那还真不是一般的吓人。 Eliot松开卡在对方脖子上的手臂，把垂到眼前的头发背过去，“不想弄脏我的床。”他粗声粗气地说。 Hardison僵住了意欲图谋不轨的手指，“……那是什么意思？” “呣？”位处上方的男人无辜地挑眉，慵懒地舒展身体。借着窗外透进来的光，好像猎豹或狮子之类的某种大型野兽，充满了力量和美。Hardison直看得邪火儿上窜，噢管他什么意思，决定了要做的事，就要有始有终。他猛地用力，把两人的位置掉了个个儿。瞅准了下巴颏儿伸嘴就啃。一只手摸进枕头底下，仔细确定了那儿没存放着任何凶器，才放心大胆地沿着光滑的脊背顺溜而下，钻进裤头里。照理说，就凭Hardison这点可怜的小身手，来十个也不顶Eliot一个。可被扑倒的男人竟格外顺从，任由他肯来肯去上下其手不反抗，甚是还颇为热情地回应着。想想也是，若他不愿，一早就打断对方鼻梁了。于是，此次夜袭就在目标物的纵容下，顺利地进行起来。 “你到底在巴基斯坦干什么了唔？”两人忙着剥掉对方剩余不多的衣物时Hardison埋头在Eliot的颈窝里，含含糊糊地问。 “告诉你的话，我就得杀你灭口。”Eliot说，声音沙哑粗沉，比往常还要低上几度。 Hardison发出轻蔑地——代表这世上还没什么机密是我看不到的——哈哼哼哼哼。 “噢闭嘴，Hardison！” Eliot咬住对方的嘴唇，手臂使力几乎把Hardison整个举起来。 “嘿嘿嘿，”突然被动从‘压’变为‘骑跨’的黑人抗议，“说好了一人一次，这回该我了！” “Damn it，Hardison！那么久以前的事你怎么还记得！”Eliot挫败地呻吟一声，把头砸回枕头里。 “耶，你自己试试看刚刚被人操完结果那人拍屁股就走，整整六个月连个鸟信儿都没有，甚至不知死活，看你会不会记得？！”Hardison充满怨愤地控诉。 “我还没跟你算今天引爆器的帐呢……”Eliot嘟囔着翻了个身。 “一码归一码，Eliot，一码归一码。”Hardison开心地扑在他背上咬耳朵，一手绕到身前捉住男人形状健康生机勃勃的老二，另一手摸进了股缝里。 Eliot的一句‘Hardison你他妈就是个斤斤计较的娘们儿’被捂在了枕头里。事实证明，他俩谁都不是娘们儿。Hardison把自己深深埋在Eliot体内，嘴唇描绘着后者背上的伤疤。 “上次还没有这道呢……”他喃喃地对着嘴边一小块潮湿凸起的皮肤说道。 “……弹片。”Eliot把头埋在臂弯里，几乎是气息不稳地吐出俩字。身体不自觉地往后抵着，湿热的甬道随着呼吸紧缩。 “这回你又有多少次差一点死掉嗯？”Hardison顺着肩头一路啃到颈窝，把鼻子埋在耳根下的凹陷处，闷闷地问。 Eliot仰头，吐出口气，恶狠狠地低吼，“又有多少次我告诉你，‘少贫嘴多干事’！Hardison？！” Hardison轻哼一声，听话地开始‘干事’。他借着月光逐寸逐寸地膜拜Eliot完美的身体，手指轻抚过每一道伤疤，每一块隆起的肌肉。同时深深浅浅地顶撞着，让身下的男人发出恼怒地声音。临近高潮时，他咬住Eliot汗湿的长发往后猛拽，被迫高扬起头的男人爆出一连串咒骂，然后戛然而止—— 完事儿后，他俩并排躺在床上。Hardison举起一只胳膊盖住眼睛，“白宫那份名单里可没有你的名字。”他说。事实是，Hardison比他显露出来的要厉害得多。他并不仅仅黑进了白宫的邮件系统而已。 Eliot发出一声不屑的‘嘁’，“我还没傻到把真名给他们，好让那帮跟屁虫顺势摸过——”他啪地合上嘴，切断了剩下的话。 Hardison在手臂地下贼笑。事实是，虽然Eliot外表凶狠、只会用拳头讲话，但他的内心其实柔软得不得了，而且，作为世界顶尖儿的诈骗集团的一员，他简直老实得不像话。 “所以，Eliot是你的真名哈？” “闭嘴睡你的觉，Hardison！” -fin-
1061008	Dean gets Lokid by	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Castiel, Dean Winchester", "Fandom": "Supernatural", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by SmokeyLoki", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-11-27T00:00:00", "words": "559", "Additional Tags": "Humor", "Relationship": "Castiel/Dean Winchester", "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 soft flutter of wings caused Dean to look up from the bed, where he was sprawled out in a sunspot that fell there. “Hey Cas. Where ya- Shit!” Dean jumped up and hurdled the other bed to catch the pale, teetering Castiel. “Whoa man! What happened to you?” Cas looked like he was holding back the urge to vomit. “Dean. I am…. Not well.” Cas was holding his abdomen with both arms and Dean immediately scanned for blood. No blood. Broken ribs? Unlikely. He was a motherfucking Angel for Christ’s sake. But nonetheless Dean guided Cas towards the second bed and helped him sit and lay down. After hesitating a moment to fix the pillows under his head, Dean opened up Cas’s shirt and began feeling the ribs gently to check for breaks. None…. No bruising either. Dean placed a heavy hand on Cas’s abdomen. “Cas, were you poisoned?” Dean’s brows furrowed. Cas shook his head and just panted for a moment, getting over his near-vomit experience. “No. Well… in a manner of speaking, yes.” He amended in one graceful change. “… What.” Dean nearly dead-panned, rubbing soft circles on Cas’s stomach. “I’m pregnant Dean.” Dean’s mind stopped. It packed up and moved to Hawaii like ‘hell no fuck this shit.’ “I’m pregnant with your child, Dean. “ Cas clarified. Dean just looked at him and blinked. After a ridiculously long silence, Dean’s mind seemed to return. “You cant be. You’re a guy.” Dean sounded weak. “I’m an Angel Dean. I’m not bound by human physiology.” Cas said bluntly, glancing down at his stomach. Womb? Dean’s mind was still chasing it’s tail. “But… how. Angels are…. You can be… Shit.” Dean sat back with a shell-shocked expression. “You are unhappy?” Cas tilted his head and scrunched his face. “No! Well… yes. Kind of?” Dean’s voice got higher pitched as he went on. “It kinda complicates the family business.” Dean looked rather pale. What was Sammy gonna think. What would Bobby think? Oh god what was happening? Dean turned back to Cas and had a panick attack. He got up and walked back and forth along the length of the motel room. Hyperventilating? Who was Hyperventilating? Dean began praying to Cas, as he always did when he was scared or upset. Damned if the Angel was right there, it helped Dean. Suddenly there was a rush a wind and the flutter of wings. Dean turned around to see… Castiel. Standing next to… Castiel. Dean’s mind had had quite enough for one day and checked out completely. The second Cas looked at the first with considerable confusion and wariness. Then after a moment the Cas who was on the bed glowed blue and faded away into Gabriel. Dean breathed out heavily. “You SON OF A BITCH!” Dean jumped after the trickster but he disappeared and reappeared near the door. “Oh that was fun. Lets play again some time, Dean. Ta-ta.” And with that, Gabriel, the asshole of the century, was gone. All that was left in his wake was a small piece of paper, like a fortune cookie fortune. Dean stormed over to it and snatched it up. “What the hell does that even mean?!?” Dean roared angrily. Castiel was watching him. “What does it say, Dean?” He asked slowly. Dean glared death at the paper and read it out loud. “Loki’d.”
1055692	Im Here For You	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Frank Iero, Mikey Way, Gerard Way", "Fandom": "My Chemical Romance", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Shyrianz", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-11-23T00:00:00", "words": "4,141", "Additional Tags": "Minor Character Death", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Frank/Gerard, Alicia Simmons/Mikey Way, Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Gerard/OMC", "Series": "I'm Here 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 }	“Tears are words the heart can't express" - Gerard Way These tears streaming down my face mean "I Love You, never leave." Unfortunatly that can't happen. His brown eyes sparkled up at me with the same glint they used to. He smiles and he reminds me of all the precious memorys we had together.I met him 3 years ago at a graveyard just walking distance from my house. I had my ipod on full blast and I didn't hear his soft voice ask me for the time. I jumped out of my skin when I felt his tender touch on my shoulder. I turned around and I saw the same beautiful brown eyes I see right before me now. Of course on conversation led from me telling him the time, to talking about favourite things to then exchanging numbers. Obviously it was just harmless flirting, but things led to another and we had been seeing each other for 3 years. We kept things quite for the first period of the relationship. Of course my parents and brother had no idea I was gay; well maybe Mikey did. I didn't want them to think I was just changing my mind all of a sudden, I had to ease them into it. It took awhile for me to come out, but my parents were very accepting of it. Mikey thought it was hilarious at first but then he went back to his usual routine of never smiling and taking the piss out of me. "I love you ,Gerard." He whispers to me as he takes his final breaths in my arms. Tears roll down my face and I sob uncontrolably as I realise what had just happened. The ambulance arrives around the corner and I pull away from him, I didn't know what to do, I was shaking too much. My head was numb. The ambulance takes him away without any hesitation, I gave a quick phone call to his parents to explain what happened. Crime in Belleville was exeptional, I just never expected it to happen to him. He has been stabbed outside my hause leaving and it broke my heart to know that he was gone for good, that someone had taken him away. I knew it sounded stupid, but I loved that motherfucker with all my heart and he was gone within a matter of seconds. We had an arguement that day, and split up. I was heartbroken. I opened the door and let him out with tears running down my face, he walked a few houses down and I was about to shut the door, but I heared a peircing scream. I looked back to see a hooded figure running away and Mark collapsing on the floor. I ran over to him and my heart sank. Chapter 1Franks POV."You'll never be fucking normal, because no one is fucking normal." - Frank Iero A phone call from Mikey was the first thing I got when I woke up. He needed me to come over and just cheer him up. Ever since Mark died, Gerard hasn't left his room and Mikey is feeling really bad. It's been 2 months, and Gerard left his room once. As soon as he did, he went back in. As if he forgot he was greiving. Mikey spends most of his days in the basement with Gerard. It seems like Gerard doesn't mind the company, but doesn't really like it either. He probably hasn't realised Mikey is even there. I walk over to Mikeys as soon as I got dressed. I rang the doorbell and Donna answered the door. "Hi Frank, Mikey's downstairs with Gerard go downstairs, it'll be fine." I nodded and headed down the large stairs towards the door. I knocked quietly before heading in. Both Mikey and Gerard looked up from the movie they were watching , which I recognized as the original Halloween, as I walked in. "Hi Frank." Gerard said with a croaky voice, as he had obviously been crying. "Hi Gee." I replied. Mikey patted the bed beside him for me to sit down. I did as was told and I took a glance of the room. The room was covered in gruesome artwork and Black Flag and Misfit posters. The room smelt pretty bad, but seen as though this had been Gerards habitat for the last 2 months I wasn't surprised. Clothes covered the majority of the floor and desktops. I settled into the movie pretty quickly and I recieved a text from Mikey (even though he was sitting beside me)Talk to Gerard about his art or something. He's getting better but I think yo could get him out of his dumps. I placed the phone back into my pocket and just started back at the tv for a while. I didn't want Gerard getting suspicious. His hair was black and covering most of his face. He had a small stubble covering his chin as he clearly hadn't shaved in a while. He smelt like death too. Though both way brothers smelt bad, it must be a family thing. His eyes were perfection and I'll admit he was perfection. It's a shame what happened with Mark, but these things happen. "I like this piece of artwork above your bed. How did you create those ideas?" I ask Gerard calmly, trying not to trigger anything."I... Liked the detail in the pumpkins facial expressions. I thought as it was halloween this week, i'd draw it.""It's perfect, something like that is something I'd like a tatoo of. Since my birthday is Halloween as well it would make an excellent theme.""It's your birthday on Halloween?" I could feel Mikey rolling his eyes in the background, I'm guessing he's told Gerard countless times but been too upset to think about it. "Yeah! I was thinking of having a Jack O'Lantern as a tatoo anyway. You've given me some inspiration. Thank You, Gerard." I smiled at him. Trying to make the conversation seem as friendly as possible."No problem.""Do you have any other artwork similar to this?" I asked.Gerard rose from his laying posistion on the bed and clambered over towards the filthy desk, grabbing his large sketchbook from underneath everything. He sempt unsure whether to show me some of the drawings, but he seemed to have shrugged that off. He sat down on the bed with his legs crossed and the book in his lap. He started slowly flicking through the pages, and my gaze couldn't move from the pages of detailed drawing. Everytime he flicked a page over I ran my fingers over the art and looked at his face and studied his facial expressions to see whether he like the page or not. There was a few pages that had been ripped out or scibbled upon. Gerards work was truely brilliant, I couldn't see any flaw in any off his drawings. I got to the end of his sketchbook satisfied with what I had seen."That was brilliant Gee, you have pure talent." I told Gee still staring at the final page. "Thank you, I draw as much as I can. It makes me happy.""Good. Do anything that makes you happy. I especially liked the vampires you draw."Gerard just smiled and headed to the desk to put the sketches away. I could tell in an instant that was one of the first times Gerard had smiled since the incident. It felt a privalige and I was glad to help on that journey to happiness. The way he continued smiling after that made me think about how much I must have made his day. Just by complimenting his works. Words can change someones emotion so quickly, it's unbelievable. Chapter 2.Gerard's POV."The world is less violent when people are using hula-hoops.” - Mikey Way I know it sounds stupid but that little motherfucker Mikey calls a friend made me smile for the first time in ages. I never thought I'd smile again, but he really knew how to cheer me up, even if Mikey put him up to it. Frank left a couple hours later, and Mikey had to go out on a date with some chick called Alicia. It's kinda lonley down here on my own. I only have so much to do in my room and I'm not in the mood for half of those things. It's been a while so I might as well head upstairs for a while, I know my parents probably think i rotted down there. I needed coffee seen as though the only time I get it is when Mikey is kind enough to bring down a cup. I've been craving coffee all day, and even a bit of human interaction with my parents. It's sound stupid coming from Gerard Way but it was true. I'd had enough of staying in my own pisshole I needed to get out and live life. I opened my bedroom door and it creaked slowly, letting alot of light that blinded me and the smell of cooking lasange. I loved my mothers lasange, it was like a heavens dish. She cooked it a lot more frequently as if to lure me out of my home, but Mikey always gave me a cold portion, so it wasn't the same as being at the table. After my eyes had adjusted to the light I gradually climbed up from my slumber, like a vampire that had been awoken after 500 years. My mothers eyes widened when she saw me in the living room. She ran over to me and hugged me tightly that I think a few of my ribs had cracked. Her blue eyes stared at me and her face was wide with a huge smile. She kissed my forehead before asking me a question. "Where have you been Gerard?" She says laughing, he smile still imprinted on her face. I smile shortly back, "Sleeping with the dead." I replied smugly before shrugging it off and sitting down on the sofa. I placed my head on the arm, feeling the leather upon my face as if it was a material I'd never felt. I certainly missed this room, it was the centre of the family, the room that connected the entire house. It was my area that I loved to be in, to greet Mikey when he walks through the door with Frank. To talk to my mother while she cooks the dinner. To make light chat with my dad as he reads the morning newspaper. I missed the old times, I never realised how much I was in the dark until now. Mikey came home well after dinner was finnished. My parents made small talk with me, but I was glad they didn't ask me too many questions. I think they realised that would have over whelmed me. When Mikey was home, he gave me a cuddle and we settled down to watch re runs of classic cartoons. We were both snuggled up under a blanket eating crisps and drinking beer. Mikey had to go back to school in the morning, but that didn't stop the little fucker drinking as much as he can. He just pushed his glasses up and drank fuck loads of vodka. Maybe not as much as me but that's okay, I finished college last year. I have nothing to do now. Mikey had been held back a year because he "forgot" to turn up to over half of his test. Mikey was glad as fuck though, because that meant that he could keep Frank company throughout his senoir year. Frank and Mikey had been best friends for over 5 years now, they had met each other in middle school, and when Frank arrived in High School, he had a friend and were inseperable ever since. Mikey and Frank were as close as me and Mikey was. Very close. Like brother, only difference between me and Frank is, I'm actually related to Mikey, unfortunatly. We sat there drunk for well over 2 hours in almost complete silence until Mikey decides to speak up."I think you should give Frank that drawing of the pumpkin so he can get it tatooed." Mikey said randomly."Sure, if he want's it. Like a birthday present?" "Yeah, that's a great idea. I'm sure Frank would love that, he seemed pretty happy about it."" Okay sure thing. I'll give it to him around his birthday.""He's coming round for his birthday, seen as it's his 18th and his parents are out of town, Mum and Dad are making him dinner and then we're off clubbing."I just smiled, glad that Mikey was doing something nice for Franks birthday. It sounded really nice. "You should come with." Mikey continued.I shook my head and looked down at my feet. I wasn't ready to go out just yet."Okay then, I understand. I just thought it'd be nice."I shook my head again and Mikey dropped the chat and continued watching the cartoons. Chapter 3 Franks POV“I’m deathly, deathly afraid of spiders, ‘cause they’ve got those little eyes." - Mikey Way. Today is my birthday. I love halloween, it's a great celebration and I love having to dress up. It's my favourite holiday, if it's even considered a holiday. I got up bright an early to get dressed and I headed over to the Ways.I knocked on the door and to my suprise Gerard opend the door, he invited me in and I smiled at him. I walked into the living room to see a couple of people, I and Gee/Mikey knew: Bob Bryar, Pete Wentz, Ray Toro and Mikey Way ofcourse. And then Donna and Don. Gerard followed behind me and sat at the seat at the side of the room. I squished myself in between Bob and Ray on the brown leather sofa. "So boys what do we have planned tonight!?" Donna exclaimed from the kitchen. "Partying at the club down the street and getting drunk, Mrs Way." Pete replied confidently. Pete had eyeliner around his eyes and ripped jeans on, as if trying to pull any male he can get his eyes on. "Sounds lovely, but no drinking for Mikes. He's a weakling." Don laughs from the other room. Everybody burst into laughter at the comment that was made. Everybody started handing out presents to Frank. Pete had bought him a fucking Dildo and girls thongs. I was not amused. Ray bought me a new guitar tab book, Bob bought me drums sticks that I'm probably not going to use. Mikey bought me a book about tatoos and where to get them from. Now time for Gerard. I didn't expect him to get me anything, but he gave me a few of his sketches including the Jack o' latern. "My present goes with Mikeys, I know you was saying you wanted a tatoo so I drew you some." I just smiled and Gerard and I got up to give him a hug. This was definatly the best day ever, and the best birthday present. I could help but smile. We had dinner and before we knew it, we was on our way to the club. In the club was some band i'd never heard of. They were pretty good so I headed down to the mosh pit after having a couple of drinks before hand. I lost myself in the pit and I was having so much fun. The set finally ended and I staggered my way back to the murky bar. I arrived and ordered more shots. The alcohol burning my throat. My head was swimming with thoughts and alcohol and I found it difficult to walk straight. I found Mikey among the bar and he told me he was going to take me home. It was easier for him however to take me to his house, so thats exactly what he did. I walked straight to the coach and collapsed no for one second realising that Gerard was beneath me. I curled up into his warm side, and placed my hands around his waist and driffted of to sleep. Chapter 4Gerard's POV"Cause you only live forever in the lights you make.When we were young we used to say .That you only hear the music when your heart begins to break" - Gerard Way. I remember in the middle of the night, Frank falling on me laying on the sofa. He made it so I couldn't move and he fell asleep on me with his arm around me. It felt so unusual when it wasn't Mark. I wasn't rejecting it though, it was comforting and he was warm and cuddly. So I held him back and fell asleep too. I woke up to Frank slightly moving, stirring in his sleep. He looked restless and uncofortable, but I couldn't move so he had to stay that way. My arm had gone dead from where Frank had laid on it all night. When Frank finally woke up he was clutching his head and moaning about how his life sucks. I just held him for comfort and told him I'd go get some asprin and water. He sat up and put his head in his hands, before finally dashing off to the bathroom to be sick. When Frank came back I handed over the the pills and the drink and Frank drank the drink as quick as humanly possible. "Sorry for sleeping on you." Frank apologized. I looked down, feeling slightly guilty that I didn't exactly mind. "It's fine, Frank. Don't worry about it. How was your night last night anyway?" I replied. "Good, abit rough in the mosh-pit but it was okay. How about yours?" "Same as usual." We both just stared at each other without enitrely realizing it. I stared at his beautiful eyes, lost in the memorys they hold. He had the most beautiful facial features and his hair topped it all off. He looked perfect in every light. Even now when he was hungover and ill he looked perfect. I shook off all thoughts about him because this was wrong. I shouldn't be think this about a young boy, especially when your boyfriend recently died. Things just weren't right, so I headed of down to my hole and I drew Frank. I drew him as well as I could, adding every detail into his eyes and adding his lip and nose rings. 3 weeks later.Frank seems to be spending every possible day he can at the house. It's sort of frustrating knowing that I may have feelings for someone, even though my heart still belongs to Mark. My feelings have only gotten worse since that day. I can't stop staring at his lucious lips. I want to feel them against my own, feel how sof they feel, how they taste. I can imagine just what he would taste like. I can feel his skin burning against my own, I want him with me all the time. It just feels so god damn wrong. Mikey wasn't in but Frank still arrived at the door one day. "Mikey's not in at the moment Frank. Sorry." I tell him as politely as I can. "I know, I came to hang out with you." He smiles. Fuck is the only word I can think of at this moment. This could be either bad or good, I don't even know at this moment in time. "Okay then. Come in." I tell him, gesturing him to come inside. We both headed down to my room, and I continued with what I was doing. Frank stands over me staring at the piece of art work I was working on. "Is.... That.. Me?" He asked raising an eyebrow. I turned round to face him, I didn't know what to reply to that. I stared at him, before leaning in and pulling him closer, our lips colliding in the center, wet and sloppy. His eyes widened before slowly sinking down into the kiss. It was sort of desprete, hands were flying everywhere, uncontrolable. I broke off the kiss and stared upon my knees, ashamed of what I had done. What this would mean now. "I'm sorry Frank, I didn't mean for that to happen." I tried apologizing. "I got that tatoo that you drew Gerard." Frank replied.} My eyebrows raised and I relax a little, knowing that Frank wasn't too bothered about the kiss. Frank lifted his top to reveal a large Jack O'lantern tattoo on his back. I traced the dark lines with my fingertips, trying to be as careful as possible with his skin. I had to tell my mouth not to touch it, as I didn't feel it was right. Though the drawing looked just like the one I drew. It was exactly the same and I felt happy that Frank chose my art to have on his back. My work was permantly engraved into anothers skin and that made me feel really good. Chapter 5 Frank's POV“Heroes are ordinary people who make themselves extraordinary.” - Gerard Way. "Mikey. I've done something really bad." I told Mikey in confidence. "Oh god, you've got someone pregnant." Mikey replied. "No. I kind of kissed your brother." Mikeys eyes went wide. "WHAT!" "Well actually he kissed me, and i just carried it on." "I don't understand how... Do you like him?" I looked down at my feet unsure of what to answer. Of course I liked him, but I didn't acutually think he was going to kiss me. "I think..." I replied slowly, curling my head into Mikeys chest. "Well.... I don't even know what to say. Just be careful not to hurt him." I nodded and I settled back into the movie that we was casually watching."Mikey... I need to talk to you." I heard Gerard's voice crack in the background. He sounded like he had been crying, obviously I felt guitly about that. I tried to shrug off the thought but I couldn't help but think that it was my fault. I sighed deeply as Mikey got up and wadled of towards Gee's room. I was left alone in the living room feeling like a complete tosspot. I played with my fingers, cleary nervous till Mikey arrives back into the room. Happy as he was before. He carried on like nothing happened. "What happened?" I asked. "Nothing. He just needed to talk." Mikey replied casualy, drinking his coke. "Nothing? Okay then." I let my body relax. Everytime after the incident I went over to the Ways Gee ignored me. As if I was invisible or just not there. I tried my hardest to apologize for what happened but everytime I tried he wasn't there. I felt entirely guilty for something I didn't do. It took me well over 4 weeks to even see him again, and by that point I thought there was no more point in trying. I liked Gerard but I didn't want to push him into anything, and he clearly didn't like me back. It was an accident. Mikey wasn't about as much, he was spending time with his new girlfriend, so I had no reason for visiting the Ways. I just needed to see Gerard.I walked up to the house roughly when Mikey had left for his 3000th date. I hesitated before actually knocking but I did it eventually. Gerard answered. "What do you want Frankie?" He said rolling his eyes at the sight of me. I could just tell he didn't want to see me and was angry. He looked so hot when he was angry, my thought were rushing about and before I knew it my lips collided with his. Gerard took a step back and his eyes widened but he didn't hesitate to kiss back. He wrapped his around my waist and pulled me closer. His lips were soft against mine and was very delicate. I lifted a hand to grab his cheek and deepen the kiss. I pushed my tounge against his lips asking for permission to gain entry. Gerard waited a few seconds before opening his mouth and we slid tounges together. We stayed in this position before finally breaking apart. I held my head against Gerards chest, Gerard just kept his arms around me in a tight embrace. "I wanted to apologize and find out why you've been completly ignoring me." I say into his heartbeat. "I'm sorry Frankie, I just... Was confused." I will be there for him, for ever. I nodded and I held him tight, never wanting to let go. It was a unique experience, I wasn't going to lie, but I wasn't going to let go of him.... Ever. I will be there for him, for ever.
1068884	si vis amari ama	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Edric Dayne, Alla Tyrell, Shireen Baratheon, Myrcella Baratheon, Edric Storm, Aegon VI Targaryen, Sansa Stark, Willas Tyrell, Elia Martell, Lyanna Stark, Rhaegar Targaryen, Rhaenys Targaryen, Arthur Dayne, Eddara Tallhart, Quentyn Martell, Lyanna Mormont, Jon Snow, Ygritte, Allyria Dayne, Beric Dondarrion, Robert Baratheon, Tyta Frey, Roslin Frey, Walder Frey, Catelyn Stark, Robb Stark, Other Character Tags to Be Added, Ned Stark, Lady Stoneheart, Bael the Bard, Unknown Stark, Coldhands, Jaehaera Targaryen, Aegon III Targaryen, Daenaera Velaryon, Gwyneth Yronwood, Jaime Lannister, Viserys III Targaryen, Rhaella Targaryen", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by solitariusvirtus", "chapters": "53/53", "completed": "2014-12-09", "published": "2013-12-03T00:00:00", "words": "23,714", "Additional Tags": "Romance, Friendship, Angst, Humor, Slice of Life, Alternate Universe, Drabble Collection, Horror, Murder", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Edric Dayne/Alla Tyrell, Edric Storm/Myrcella Baratheon, Shireen Baratheon/Edric Storm/Myrcella Baratheon, Arthur Dayne/Elia Martell, Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Elia Martell/Rhaegar Targaryen, Eddara Tallhart/Quentyn Martell, Jon Snow/Lyanna Mormont, Jon Snow/Ygritte, Allyria Dayne/Beric Dondarrion, Robert Baratheon/Lyanna Stark, Tyta Frey/Arthur Dayne, Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Elia Martell/Oberyn Martell, Ned Stark/Lady Stoneheart, Bael the Bard/Unknown Stark, Tommen Baratheon/Lyanna Mormont/Jon Snow, Sansa Stark/Willas Tyrell, Jaehaera Targaryen/Aegon III Targaryen, Aegon III Targaryen/Daenaera Velaryon, Quentyn Martell/Gwyneth Yronwood", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Starfall is a beautiful place. Alla supposes that she ought to feel blessed when she is given to Edric Dayne. He is kind. But for all of Starfall’s beauty and Edric’s kindness, Alla finds the desert suffocating. She is a Tyrell, has been and always will be, all things considered. (Who would marry her, with all the talk of treason that goes around about her family?)Sometimes she glances at Lord Dayne, Edric who is not so much older than her and wishes she were more than a comfortably kept prisoner in a prison of silk and precious stones. Often she finds herself standing atop the Palestone Tower and looking down. (Lady Ashara Dayne has flung herself from this spot, they say.) Dizziness makes her head spin. And just when she thinks that she might find her freedom, be it in death, a hand grasps her shoulder.Edric’s blue eyes - almost violet with the way the light shines on them - and his stern face greet her. Alla swallows with a bit of difficulty. Edric Dayne is kind, and there are worse fates than hers, but his kindness helps her not a whit, because she doesn’t want to accept that she will live the rest of her life a prisoner. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Edric Storm looks upon his sister – not his sister, not truly, not by blood – and smiles. They are not unlike the Targaryens in this. (For really in the eyes of all she is still Robert’s daughter and he the bastard son.) Myrcella smiles back shyly, half of her face hidden beneath a veil the colour of sun kissed sand. People whisper as they’ve always done. They compare the son to the father and the daughter to the mother (and find her lacking, for Myrcella had half her face destroyed and they’ve always put more stock in beauty of the flesh). Edric is content to hold her hand and trace the scars when they lie abed and tell her she is beautiful. Because she is. Myrcella will hit his arm gently and murmur a quiet protest. His sister – not sister – can be stubborn when it suits her. “One of these days you’ll have to admit that I am right.” It is not a reproach, Edric wouldn’t dream of it.Myrcella hides her green eyes away from his own blue orbs. He thinks that she may have been saying something, alas she’s spoken so lightly that he caught none of it. So Edric settles back against the pillows, without another word. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- King Stag with all his court makes merry, giving hardly a thought to all the death and destruction outside the city walls. They bring out the dragon skulls and the Red Witch, as some have taken to calling Queen Shireen’s little helper, sacrifices men to her God just to mock the hollow sockets that used to be eyes. Edric drinks deep from his cup, his arm around his other Queen’s waist. It is a strange sight, one golden haired lioness and two tawny stags that have taken to living together.Shireen and Myrcella, night and day, they sit next to Edric, obsidian and gold, power and love. King Stag smiles at one and holds the other, and they rule this vast empire all three of them together as they should. Sweet wine and meats, they cover the rotting corpses in the streets with veils of music and cheer. And the world spins on as it has always done. The fires burn and the bodies pile, and King Stag and all his court make merry, for there is the glory and theirs the triumph. And you may hear it whispered that Edric spoils both his Queen, granting their every wish. For one hold his heart, the other his crown; and together they are almost one woman whole. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Rhaegar supposes he should feel anger, he should feel slighted, cheated, insulted even. Yet looking at Elia he can summon nothing but vague sympathy. He doesn’t love her – he never did – and the chance of it growing between them has burned away long ago. (And Lyanna still fills his dreams, with her far off gaze and slightly awkward mannerism, which reminds him more of a girl than of a woman.)Aegon sleeps in his mother’s arms, his pale-lilac eyes closed. “And Rhaenys?” His daughter is all her mother, dark eyes and dark hair; it would be impossible to tell if she is his or Arthur’s. So he asks.“She is yours,” Elia responds, rocking her son gently. Her golden skin seems almost waxen in the dim light, she’s still too pale, still to weak. Rhaegar nods his head slowly. He doesn’t sit up from his chair.“I’ve left Lyanna with Arthur,” he says, almost casually. “When I come back, I shall free the both of us.” Because Elia deserves to be happy as much as he. It is only then that he makes to depart. “Rhaenys remains with me. (He’s so very sure that Lyanna will accept his daughter with open arms, and raise her alongside whatever children are born to them.) ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Eddara moves the heavy coil of her braid onto her shoulder, cold sweat dripping down her forehead. She wipes it away with a kerchief which she then hides in the sleeve of her dress. “How much longer?” she asks, peering through the small space that has been left between the curtains. The Dornish sands will drown her without doubt. In the end, when she does reach Sunspear, Eddara she is too tired to even marvel at the beauty of it.Quentyn looks upon the Northerner woman they’ve found for him and sighs. He can see her discomfort as if it were plainly written in her eyes. Proud and free she may be, but she is also miserable as far as he can tell. Eddara Tallhart will have to learn that only beyond pride and freedom can she stand unbowed, unbent, unbroken. She is no Dornish woman, but she’ll do well enough.Her hand is cold in his. Eddara wonders at the heat of the man’s skin as he helps her to her feet. “Greeting, my Lord.”She tries to keep her wits about her, which shouldn’t prove to be a challenge.“My Lady, I welcome you to Sunspear.” His skin is dark against hers, and Quentyn finds that pleasantly surprising, though he takes care to keep that to himself. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- When all her sisters are gone and her mother too, Lyanna Mormont knows that she cannot fall to her knees and cry. Instead, she walks the halls of Castle Black, the shades whispering to her. She can’t weep.“It is not wrong to grieve,” Lord Commander Snow tells her. He is such a grim, stern-faced man. Lyanna gazes upon Longclaw at his side. Again she has to remind herself that her uncle gave the sword to him. Why? Perhaps because he though him worthy of it. Or did he consider him a son?“Later, Lord Snow,” Lyanna whispers. She expects that he will leave her here, with falling, frozen tears. Instead he guides her to a bench, encouraging her to place her head on his shoulder. Lyanna misses her sisters and her mother horribly by now. “Does it ever end?”“No,” he answers. And to this Lyanna can but smile, for she remembers what they used to say about his father. Starks are no liars, neither is he. (For he’s a Stark as much as his siblings had been.) “I don’t think so.” He pats her back gently, brotherly even. The young woman still smiles through her tears.Lyanna hums softly in the back of her throat. The ghosts are not so loud any longer. Winter has come. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Lyanna wonders if Jon dreams of wild, red hair and pale blue eyes, or if he thinks of his wildling lover when he comes to her bed deep in the night. (Ygritte who was young and vibrant. Ygritte who is dead before her time.) Does she compare them? Lyanna’s dark hair to his former paramour’s, their eyes and the way they kiss, the way they feel. Does he dream of endless snow and dark caves?She doesn’t dare listen to the name he murmurs against her damp skin. Lyanna simply twines her fingers in his dark hair, just a bit darker than hers, and stares at a spot on the ceiling. This winter is harsh, harsher than she would have thought possible even with the attacks of the undead. The wounds, be they of the flesh or not, are badly bandaged and Lyanna thinks that if they peel the gauze away they will see them festering.Her body trembles at his release. Her hips instinctively follow Jon’s retreat, trying to cling to the warmth. There is precious little of that, the gods know. (Just in moments such as these does Lyanna feel anything but ice, and she’s so tired of being cold all the time.) ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Red spills across her lips, down her chin and in her lap. Lyanna lets out a sigh of frustration and makes to rise when her breath is cut off by a sudden, visceral pain. (Her chest is tight, her ribs ache, like someone has broken them with a blunt object.) Her hand automatically goes to her chest, where she can feel her heart beating wildly. A choked cry is caught in her throat, and this time another sort of red starts staining her dress. She doesn’t even wonder – there’s too much pain for her to - why it is her upper body hurting.When the pain has spread throughout her entire frame, Lyanna can almost taste the coppery tang of blood in her mouth, her nostrils filled with its scent. The curious thing is that before her eyes the sky is blue and the grass is green and the river laps at the lush earth. (Shouldn’t she be seeing sands and high suns and too much light?) It strikes her that the eyes she sees through are not hers, because slowly, slowly she is engulfed by water. How can that be when Lyanna feels the mattress underneath her? Something like panic grips her, and from there on whether its drowning or suffocating, it matters little. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Sitting in the shade of a tree, Eddara watches Quentyn practice with a spear. Her face is frozen in an impassive mask – one which she has practiced for many years until she’s finally reached this result. Figs and pomegranate seeds and other fruits she does not know what to name pass her lips from time to time. (And in her mind she thinks about the comfort of those arms thrusting the spear, and of hot lips on her, sharp stubble dragged across her skin.) Eddara shivers.She’s still not used to the too thin silk of her dress, its gauziness and the stares it attracts – those that aren’t Quentyn’s.Red coats her fingertips and sweetness fills her mouth, the pomegranate seeds yielding their juice to her teeth. Eddara half smiles at Quentyn when he glances her way. She watches curiously as he approaches, her dark eyes glinting in the light. The Lord kneels before her, taking crimson lips with his. And bitter mixes with sweet. Eddara feels another sort of heat burning through her, from the inside out, without an ounce of mercy.Quentyn released her with a short movement back. He returns to his drill, leaving Eddara to her fruits. (And to the taste of his mouth and the feel of his short cropped beard grazing her cheeks.) ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Allyria doesn’t weep when they tell her of Beric’s demise, nor when after more than a few years they bring her his bones, white and lifeless. She tries not to stare at the hollows which used to be eyes and at the too clean bones. She tries not to remember the red-golden tresses and the smile and the sound of his voice. She tries so hard not to feel his arms – ghosts – wrap around her.“Even after that he lived a while longer,” Edric says, recounting the battle at the Mummer’s Ford, or rather the massacre, for the hundredth time. “And then he was revived. But not for long.”In her room she rereads the letters that he’s sent her; it seems that it has been ages since they strolled in the gardens, the sun beating upon them. Allyria looks up, catching her reflection, and behind a shadow-like figure. She does not grow frightened or scream. Why should she? After all, what is dead may never die but rises again harder and stronger, and her Beric has been dead many times over.“I hope you’ll like it here,” she says, placing the jar of ashes on a small table next to her bed. The shade in the mirror flickers and dies away leaving behind empty space. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Lyanna weds Robert with a heavy heart, her infant son in Eddard’s arms. The Septon is clearly displeased but says nothing. Robert is king and as such he will have his way. They have forced her into this, promising a secure life for her and Jon. Lyanna knows – as does everybody – what has been done to Elia’s children. And because she knows and she is first and foremost a mother, Lyanna accepts Robert’s suit. Her life in exchange for her son’s.Day and night, she has to endure seeing Robert’s face, the face of her true husband’s killer. For even as she promises love and faith, her thought are on the mate of her soul, on Rhaegar with his silver hair and violet eyes and sad, sad smile. When Robert comes to her bed reeking of wine and drunk out of his mind and demanding and more often than not violent, she submits to his touch, saving her tears for when he is no longer conscious. And thus the years pass over her and her son, whom they call Jon Snow.She gives the King no sons, her womb refuses to take his seed. And truthfully Lyanna is glad for it. Let his put his children in other women.Then, when her boy is hardly old enough to climb a horse, the unthinkable happens. Somehow he has managed to climb into one of the towers – her son is no climber, her son hardly leaves her sight – or so they say and he slipped. They give her his small, mangled body. Lyanna doesn’t have to look at Robert to know his reaction, and she doesn’t have to think twice about what she’ll do.On the night when he creeps into her room, barring the door, Lyanna waits for him, candles burning brightly. She allows him the use of her body, as she’s always done, and waits until sleep takes him. The hair pin on the table glints. She stretches out for it, wrapping trembling fingers against the gold. Before a second can pass, the metal is embedded into Robert’s throat, a pillow coming down to muffle his cry. Lyanna presses down with all her strength, barely feeling the sticky, red substance that has started slithering down, being soaked in her dress. “He was mine,” she hisses at the bubbling blood. “You had no right. No right, to take him from me.” Is she speaking of Rhaegar or of Jon? Not even she knows. The only thing she is aware of is that the dawn is breaking. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Tyta helps little Roslin into her dress, both with tears streaming down their cheeks. “Remember to smile,” the older sister says, “and you needn’t fear what is to follow.” Out of all her sisters she loves Roslin best, because they are most alike in appearance and in comport. “Just close your eyes and go far away in your mind.” “I don’t want to do this,” the younger sobs, crumpling the fine silk of her skirts. Neither does Tyta but their father has spoken, and they are powerless to stop him, least they cost their brothers their lives.Hugging Roslin to her, Tyta tries to offer some comfort. Maybe the Gods will take pity and help them. Although Tyta is sceptical, for the Gods have stopped listening to their prayers a long time ago. But she’ll try either way for Roslin and her happiness. “I shall pray to the Maiden and to the Mother for you.”“Best pray for yourself girl,” Wader Frey says, standing in the doorway. “I’ve come to see that you are ready.” This time he speaks to Roslin. “Leave us. I’ll speak with your sister alone.”Father has always hated her, Tyta thinks. Not because her mother died birthing her, and certainly not for her love of books and learning, but for her uselessness. Tyta the Maid, they call her. She’s never been married, so naturally she’s brought little to her family. But Tyta has been loved and this she refuses to share with the rest of them, save Roslin whom she loves as her own.In truth Tyta is no maid. She loved a silver haired man, with a white cloak and a sword of stars. And though she has nothing of him to hold, she holds him in her heart, safely hidden among her memories. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Benjen takes the black and Lyanna takes the frozen throne of the North in the name of her son. Jon is just a babe, and Lyanna will do whatever she must to protect him. Catelyn Tully Stark has yet to give birth and the she-wolf knows that even when she does the northern Houses will still support her claim. the Tullys are of the South and the North remembers.She doesn’t ride to battle, nor does she promise to share her kingdom or her rule with anyone. But when push comes to shove, her armies still push the Baratheon banners away. Roberts writes that he loves her and he wants her as his Queen, but Lyanna knows what it is to have been loved and she does not allow herself to be fooled. Roberts wants a trophy.When Catelyn’s son is born, Lyanna can see no trace of Eddard in him. Still, she reckons that the boy is much like her own. “Let them have a joint reign.” One shall be the warrior and the other the thinker. Lyanna smiles at Catelyn. “And we’ll have peace.”So the north loses its Lord, but gains two Queens who are closer than sisters and fiercer than wolves. And children who are only half-wolves, the other half all scales, grow in the bitter winters. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Arthur kisses the curve of Tyta’s neck, pressing his fingers into her waist at the quiet cries that leave her lips. She squirms slight in his grasp, like a small swallow trying to make an escape, her dark hair a fragrant stream falling across her shoulder. His hand slides onto the back of her thigh, lifting her even more.“We shall get caught, my Lord,” Tyta whines softly, not even trying to hold onto her clothes that are falling apart at the pull of his insistent fingers.“Let them,” Arthur replies. He could pull her into the solar but the hall is empty too and she is so tempting, suspended against the wall, her front pressed flush to his. “I have no intention of letting go.” She is too shy by far, yet Arthur finds that this is part of her charm. Tyta wouldn’t be Tyta if she didn’t let this bashfulness of hers show from time to time.Thus he simply carries her away, into the solar, allowing her the comfort. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- There is blood on her dress and the taste of death in her mouth. Tyta drags away one of the fallen bodies, her cheeks stinging after the blow it had received. She doesn’t dare look at Lady Stark with her vibrant reddish-brown tresses stained scarlet by blood, her own blood, her son’s blood. The Seven will strike them all for this folly.She can only imagine what poor Rosling is feeling right now. The girl must be crying herself dry over what she known is happening down below. Pale, dead eyes stare up at her. Tyta snarls at the man’s expression. “Family, Duty, Honour,” she tells him. “These are your Lady’s words, are they not? I choose family, I choose my brothers.” And that is the only excuse she has. If only Lord Stark hadn’t marries a woman other than her sister. “Foolish, foolish boy.”Roslin is paying for his thoughtlessness, his uncle and his mother and all the people who have actually nothing to do with it. Tyta thinks the whole situation unfair, but after the beating she took and threat hanging over her brothers, she can do little but comply. “You should have chosen a different lord,” she speaks again, looking down. “I will try my best though to make amends with the Seven for thus brutality.” At this point it is rather too late, but Tyta thinks that they should accept her supplication for they’d done nothing to stop this disaster.Death on her lips and horror in her eyes, Tyta talks to the corpses of these fallen men as if they were friends, for her own beloved is long since rotten flesh and bleached bones, another kind of silver, she thinks. She looks up towards the sky. “You did not even see fit to allow me a scrap of dignity.” It sears and sizzles, and she chokes back a cry. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Rhaegar trudges up the stairwell, half-mad with grief and filled with rage. In his wake the bodies of enemies lie still and unbreathing. (“You took her from me. You took her and killed her!” Oberyn Martell yells. “And I’ve taken yours in return. It’s only fair, good-brother.”) It’s too late, he knows, but still a small part of him dares to hope that all isn’t lost.Only, of course, that all is lost. Oberyn is many things, but a liar isn’t one of them. (“I’ve taken yours in return.”) Lyanna has been dealt with in precisely the same manner Elia had. Rhaegar struggles to keep the contents of his stomach from spilling out at the sight of her. (“The Mountain stabbed the little Princess over and over and bashed the baby’s skull in. Princess Elia, he defiled her.” Jon Connington is silent after that for a long time.) Shaking hands touch the once white flesh. Stained red, lacerations open and sour, she looks nothing like the woman he left behind.“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he tells her, taking her stiff hand in his. She’s cold. As if his regret can breath life back into her. As if mere words can bring back the second son he’s lost. Elia had been ash by the time he got to King’s Landing. His words had meant nothing to her too. “Lyanna, I’m sorry, my love.” He bends his head down, willing the nightmare away, willing her to open her eyes. “Lyanna, please!”(“That little bitch of yours couldn’t even fight by the end. I did her a kindness by slashing her throat. It’s more than your knights did for my sister,” Oberyn spits.) For Oberyn it’s always been about Elia. He raises Lyanna’s head gently, mindful of the wound splitting her neck open. Without the scent of decay and the look of horror on her face, she could almost look as if she were sleeping. Wrapping her in his arms, Rhaegar finally allows himself to cry. Loud, long sobs that make him shake.He’d wanted to give her the world, not lose his along with her. His lips touch her frosty ones. Rhaegar kisses death like he’s never kissed anyone else, wild and raging and too full of emotion. He is not completely careless, but it doesn’t matter, because her waxen flesh cannot bruise. “I’ll not leave you here, love,” he whispers into her mouth, stroking her dark tresses. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Great a fool is he who thinks himself above the gods. But an even greater fool is the man who turns his back on his heart. Man may exist without the gods, yet without a heart man dies. Rhaegar traces the tip of his index finger across the stitched holding Lyanna's skin together. "Is this your way of punishing me, my love?" Does she intend to see him suffer for the fate of her House? "I have not wished for bloodshed."And yet her blood has flown as has that of her brothers and father. Rhaegar takes the inert body into his tender embrace. He wonders briefly if he will ever stop hearing her voice in his head, if he will ever dream of something other than her corpse savaged in a place that was sacred to them. "They tell me that the crypt is ready. I've made sure that you are near the great window, so the light may always shine on you."It breaks his heart to see her sealed away in stone, forever beyond his reach, as she's always been if he has to admit the truth to himself. Would that he could join her in the eternal sleep. Oh, but sweet Lyanna will wait for him by the gates, he knows. They have dressed her in black, a colour of mourning. It is not the maidenly white she's always been fond of, or the blue he loved to see her wearing. Black is his colour. Black and red. Fire and blood. He kisses her then, because if a few hours she'll be going somewhere where he cannot join her. Not yet, no matter how much he wishes to. He already knows that he will be spending most of his time in the crypt from now on. Lyanna he can't leave for long. "Is this what Oberyn referred to when he said that a thousand storms could not bring a drop of water to the desert Elia has left behind?" Existing is not something he wants to do any longer. It is tiresome. "Just until Viserys is old enough, my love. I owe him at least that much."Lyanna is silent, even in his mind she doesn't speak. He's in a strange sort of limbo, left in he dark when she's this quiet. Rhaegar watches her, seemingly unable to commit her to memory accurately enough by the way he's drinking her image in."I had hoped for a three-headed dragon. I shall have to content myself with Viserys and Daenerys, I suppose. But you know, I should have liked to see you holding our child. I named him Jon for you. It's a good northerner name. You approve, do you not? Jon will be next to you." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- i. Jon knows the person before him to be a woman even before she screams in a distinctively female voice. “No! Don’t kill him!” she begs, covering the old crow’s body with her own slight frame. His face twists in compassion, but the man she protects would likely wish to die rather than become their prisoner.His companions are prepared to cut her throat and get her out of the way. He can see the sword coming down, and at the last moment he decides to act, deflecting the blow. “She’s mine.” So instead of having her head cut off, she’s heaved onto his shoulder, struggling and kicking. ii. “You southrons are a strange lot,” Jon says, staring into the eyes of his would-be killer. “I spared your life and this is how you replay me.” There is no outrage in his voice, rather it is wonder.Lyanna Mormont’s eyes sparkle in the dim firelight. She holds onto the knife she’s managed to pull off of some unsuspecting man. “You’ve let him die. My uncle. You’ve murdered him.” There are no tears.“I did not touch him,” he contradicts her softly. “It was you I fought and you I took as mine.”“I’m not yours,” Lyanna protests, the weapon closing in on his neck, a breath away from drawing blood.He kisses her, uncaring of the wound he just inflicts upon himself.iii. Soon enough she’s wearing one of his furs over her shoulders to protect her from the cold. The only thing she has left of her stay with the crows is a pair of black boots and the piece of a black cloak that she’s strangely protective of. Even so she has no problem sliding under the covers with Jon when the night falls.There is one thing she is grateful of. The wildling never tries to touch her. Despite the fact that he claims she is his and he may have his will of her if he so wishes, he hasn’t tried even once to do anything more than warm. iv. Blood falls on the ground, and Jon skillfully ducks out of the way after having delivered his blow. His opponent falls to the ground. Lyanna has half a mind to tell him to stop as he continues to rain punches down on the man, seemingly preferring his fists to his other weapons. Alas she has enough trouble getting up from the ground, and no real desire to save the man’s life.When he’s done, Jon climbs off and wipes the blood away from his hands. He pays no attention to the curious onlookers. Instead he steps towards Lyanna and hauls her up. “Get inside,” he growls, his too serious face touched by a sort of wildness she’s not yet seen in him. He pushes her in front of him, the people parting to make way for them.Later after he’s left her huddled under the furs in their hut, she hears his voice outside. “Anyone daring enough to touch her will share the same fate. She’s mine.” And this time it brings a thrill and not dread. v. “Summer child,” Jon whispers in her hair as she shivers even wrapped in his arms. “Southrons.” Though he says it teasingly, without malice.“I am not of the South.” They’ve had this conversation over and over. She tells him she’s from the North and he dismisses her words with a lazy smile.“You are a summer child. And a southron.” But he kisses her all the same. “And mine. You are my southron summer child,” he presses on, pulling her tighter against him.And because she recognizes the truth in his words, Lyanna allows him more than kisses and tentative touches for the first time. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- i. Eddard accepts the bones of his sister and the child that dies at birth. He chokes on what may be a cry, but keep his face impassive. Oberyn Martell eyes him with something caught between understanding and distrust. “Dorne will have Elia’s bones back and those of her children.”“Dorne shall,” Eddard promises. “You have my word.” And it is known that Eddard Strak never lies, this sullen, too-serious lord of Winterfell.Oberyn lets the man go. He heaves a sigh and dares to close him eyes, managing to push back the memory of his sister. Eddard Stark knows the same loss. And at the same time Eddard Stark knows nothing. ii. They storm the tower. Oberyn is forced to slay the guards the Prince left for his paramour. But he does not find what he expected. O, indeed, when he sees Lyanna, she is confusingly calm and infuriatingly human. This is no seductress. She is barely out of girlhood, and it seems strange to see her round with child. The child of his good-brother. Dorne is less strict when it comes to such transgressions of the vows, yet Oberyn finds himself affronted. The Northener woman gives him a wary stare. “You killed them, the knights?” Her arms cross protectively over her bulging middle. The brother of Aegon is within. Oberyn wavers. “They had to die.” That is all the explanation he gives her. Oberyn helps her to her feet, ungentle. “You’ve heard about Elia.” Strangely enough her eyes fill with tears. “We did not mean for it to go as it did. Elia was to be his Visenya and I his Rhaenys. Her son was to sit the throne.” Because Lyanna wanted love out of her affair, not power. And she had been ready to share for she did recognize the right of the first Queen. iii. “And she died in childbed?” Eddard questions. “The child,” he murmurs. “Was it a boy or a girl?”“A daughter,” Oberyn says gently enough. “As I understood it, the Prince had wished to revive the three-headed dragon. His youngest would have been Visenya.”Visenya dead before ever drawing breath and Rhaenys stabbed all over her small body, Aegon with his head shattered. Eddard wonders for s bfrief moment if Lyanna ever realized the magnitude of her own folly. If Rhaegar Targaryen ever thought of what his actions would bring about. “She was brave,” Oberyn offers in a small measure of odd comfort. Eddard cannot bear to look into his eyes. iv. "Don’t send me back,” Lyanna begs, kneeling before Oberyn, hands fisting into his tunic. “They will kill this child too. You owe me nothing, you have the right to hate me, but at the very least save my baby. Please. I’ll do anything.” And still she is calm. “You give up any claim on the throne? You deny that Rhaegar’s blood flows through his veins?” Is she willing to give up even that slim change at power? “I only want to save my child’s life,” she says. She allows them to place her into a wheelhouse. She never protest when Oberyn joins her. “You shall be birthing the child anytime now. Elia is dead, so is Rhaegar. So is Rhaenys. But not the younger, Aegon. If you keep him alive your child shall live too.” v. Lyanna sits in her rooms, far away from her brother. She holds in her arms the boy with silver hair and soft violet eyes. He looks like Rhaegar. She almost bursts into tears as the babe suckles. It is her fault too that he’s been left without a mother and a father. That he’s left without what is rightfully his. “I will take good care of you,” she promises. “I will love you as if you were my own. I shall make no difference between yourself and your sibling.” Lyanna is decided to make his life as good as she may. She’s been given this chance to repent. “By the Old Gods and the New, I shall be a good mother to you.”Her child kicks at her middle as if in agreement with her words. Lyanna smiles softly. This is far from what she’s expected her life to be, but it is all she gets because of her own foolishness. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It’s the way her heart beats against her ribcage, wild, untamed; it must be why it needs to be caged. It’s the way her arms find their way around him somehow and the way she presses herself to him in the middle of the night, not for lust, but for companionship. It’s the way she breaths against his neck, warm and alive. It’s the way her eyes are dark and not impossibly light; it’s the way she’s utterly, perfectly human even when she sheds this skin for another.Jon rests his head on her chest. He wants to tell her that she’s amazing and he loves her. But the words get stuck in his throat. I love you. I love you. I utterly, madly, irrevocably love you. Instead he listens to her heart beating a steady rhythm. He wants to ask her for more than light kisses on his cheek and fingers playfully tangled in his hair. I need you, so, please, please…She bends knee to Rickon. Bear Island knows no king but the King in the North, whose name is STARK. She and her surviving sister. Jon looks at her and can’t tare his gaze away. Sansa Stark Tyrell now smiles at the Mormont women. Her husband at her side watches the procession quietly. If any of the two notice that Jon is not wholly attentive they do not say a thing.“Take care of our brother,” Sansa tells him once they are outside. “I believe you can do it, brother.” The last word comes out a little hesitant.“Of course.” But his mind is elsewhere, inside with Lyanna who has taken Rickon to his chambers. “I shall not fail, sister.”I love you. I love you. I love you. He wants to whisper the words in her ear and see the look on her face. Lyanna Mormont laughs at something one of her sisters says. Jon knows he is being greedy, but he’s half-known what it is to have her, fingers tangled in his hair and warm cheeks pressed to his, and he cannot let go.“Is it different from how you remember it? Winterfell?” Lyanna sits herself next to him. “I’ve never been to Wintefell before.”Before the war, she means. Before, when he was just a bastard, before, but after he had joined the Watch. “A bit, but for the most part Sansa had remodelled it the same.”Dark hair, lighter than his own, slipping between his fingers, warm eyes and a quiet voice. They lie together underneath the furs, shaking to the bones, both cold and frightened. She doesn’t look so much like the warrior he saw on the Wall back when she was four-and-ten, but Jon supposes it is the dress and the fact that she has filled out somewhat. He wants to capture this moment. Her hand slips in his and her lips move against his cheek. He can’t hear what she’s saying. Perhaps she prays.“I like it,” Lyanna says, bringing Jon out of his thought.“Stay.” Jon feels her hand slipping in his and he squeezes it gently. “Stay here then.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Scars mar her face and her once lovely red hair is now white, not the silver of Targaryens but white, white, white. Eddard looks at this stranger with his wife’s face. ”Cat.” His hands reach for her. “Cat.” There a slash cutting her throat open. “What have they done to you, my love?” But she looks right through him, her frame comes in contact with his, and the she passes right through the shadow of him. “Cat.”Eddard turns around. They have destroyed her. He wants to wrap his arms around her – to be wrapped in her arms – and have her talk to him – and talk to her. “Cat.” Why can he not say anything else? Why does she not see him?Lady Stoneheart. The name echoes through his mind. “Lady Stoneheart!” And as if he’s managed to break some sort of spell, she whirls around, pale flesh stained red. Her eyes grow wide.“Ned.” Her hand has gone to her throat and she hisses the word rather than speaks it, but Eddard understands her clearly. “Ned!” The second time it is a sob, or as close to it as this woman can manage. “Need, our sweet babes.” And this is desperation. “Ned, our children.”“Our children,” he repeats. “Our children.” And so he lingers awhile longer. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Bael sinks to his knees in the dank, dark crypt, holding the woman’s waist between powerful hands. “Come with me.” It is a selfish thing to ask of her. This kneeler woman with eyes of steel and sharp grins and dreams, dreams underneath her too-serious face. ”We can live together, free. Beyond the wall.” Her small, lithe form trembles at the half-promise. He can see the longing in her face. So close, he is so close.He glides his hands along her naked hips, the joy of her body calling to him again. She allows him to pull her atop, legs parting to make way for him. Her head is buried in his neck, her breathing coming short. “I will teach you the ways of the free men.” She is wound up around him, warm and sweet and if pleasure could kill, Bael wouldn’t mind so long as it comes by her hands. Nay, he thinks, he would die for this woman, but he would rather live for – with – her. “Be mine.”“I am yours,” she whispers against his skin, her voice a soft caress. His seed runs along the inside of her thigh and onto his own. “By the old gods, I am yours.” Her mouth seeks his hungrily. And again she begs with her body to be fashioned into something of his own making. “But I am a Stark also. I belong to Winterfell as well.”That he has to share her with the walls and ambitions of her father, Bael smarts at it and the anger swells and this time it is the ground against her back and not his hands. This time his hips punish her unwillingness and his mouth plunders and ravages. However much she belongs to him, she doesn’t and he wants her so much he thinks he might burst, filled as he is with need. He thought that one taste of her would quell his desire. But once he’s taken her, droplets of blood falling onto the ground, he only grows to crave her more. “What do I have to do for you to follow me beyond the wall?”...“If it is a daughter, I shall join you,” she tells him, lying onto him, her once tiny waist slightly expanded. “If it is a son, I must stay and see him the proper lord when my father dies. “Bael prays for a daughter. He prays they only have daughters, in fact. Daughters with her hair, eyes, sharp smiles and too-serious faces. How can he bear to let her go now, after he’s known the feel of her against him when they sleep? How can he let her go without tearing his heart to shreds? Gods forgive him, but he would sling her over his shoulders and see her out of this place with her consent or without. And yet the thought of such fine eyes laying blame on him makes a sharp pain in his chest....She gives him a son in the end. Proud mother, the she-wolf cradles the babe to her breast watching the infant suckle. “A boy, a lord for my home.”And just like that understanding dawns upon Bael. He loves her, he loves her so much, yet she loves her home. She would do anything for her home. “Why did you come with me here?” Gods damn it. Angered again, he stands up and moves away from her.That very night he leaves, swearing to himself that he will never come back. The harsh wind cuts his cheeks, just like her tears had when she begged him to stay awhile longer. “I do love you. Come back to me.” Never. Bael promises her in his grief. “Never again will I let you fool me, woman. “...Five years past, Bael finds himself again in her presence. She is the Lady of Winterfell, acting as regent to her son. Bael does not want to hear about the child or see him. If he looks upon the boy’s face, he will love him and this man desperately wants to cling to his bitterness and his pain. So he takes his woman roughly and seals her mouth close with kisses unnumbered.But as luck would have it, he wakes in the middle of the night to the creaking of the door and a pair of wide eyes looking upon the stranger in the house. His son looks like his mother as far as eyes and mouth go, but the rest of him is Bael. His heart squeezes in his chest and he makes a sign for the child to be quiet. The boy climbs into the bed and under the covers.“Are you my father?”...They fight upon snow and ice, father and son clash swords. Bael loses on purpose, of course. He can’t bring himself to plunge the sword into the chest of this kneeler. It’s those eyes and that face that has grown too-serious.The boy, though, has no compunction about bringing down his sword. Bael smiles sadly. This is his seed and blood, this is what was born out of his love for her. All this for her. “Do it!” And he feels the pain of it briefly.In his mind he can see her smile and her eyes light up, and wistfully he wonders what could have been had it been a girl that was born to them. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Lyanna rocks her son gently and hums a lullaby. She feels drained. She is in pain. And yet the feel of her babe gives her strength to hold on just a little longer. “My little Jon, mother loves you.” She does. It is a strange thing that only days ago she was responsible for herself and now she holds a second life. “The midwife tells I shall not be here much longer, my darling.” Yet she’s been telling Lyanna thus for days now. “I want so much to watch you grow into a fine, young man.” She would have wished for Rhaegar to see it too. “But more than that, I want you happy.”She holds a king with no crown in her arms. “Trice king,” she whispers against his dark curls. In his veins runs the blood of three kings. The Targaryen blood of his father names him king of a torn realm. From her, she has the ice of the King in the North and, also, the blood of a King-Beyond-the-Wall if songs are to be believed. “Three kings.” Three heads of the Dragon. “And yet the throne shall never be yours.” So long as Rhaegar’s children with Elia still breathe, Jon will remain prince. Lyanna does not bemoan that. She is happy to know him safe as prince. “I shall watch over you.”It is Ser Arthur that brings her news of Rhaegar’s demise and of the dearth of Elia’s children. He does not have to say much to make her understand and fear. And it is then that strength leaves her and holding her three-times-king becomes a burden so hard to bear.“Promise me, Ned…” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- i. The wind howls and shakes the skins at the entrance, Lyanna burrows deeper into Jon, her back against his front, and feels her cheeks flush as flesh touches flesh. She lifts her head gingerly and over her shoulder looks to the entrance. There is nothing to be seen. The young woman shakes her head. ‘Tis folly. Jon has kept them safe up to now and he will continue to do so. “Just the wind,” she whispers against his skin, settling down once more. There is something about the days becoming shorter and the weather colder and colder still.She must have disturbed her partner somehow, for Jon wakes with a groan, the arm wrapped around her coiling harder. “Why do you not sleep?” he asks, voice heavy still.“Something woke me,” Lyanna replies, shifting, trying to draw herself away. His snarl stops her sort and her progress is unravelled by a tug of his arm. Pressed even tighter against him, Lyanna shudders. His hand trails down her back. “I shall find sleep again.”“You shall,” Jon agrees. He slips inside of her like a sword finding sheath. Lyanna gives a whimper, of pain or pleasure, it is unclear. Jon other arm wraps around her too, but his fingers come up to the swell of her breast. “Does the cold bother you?”“Nay.” And then he starts moving against her. How can she be cold when she sleeps with her body glued to his? He is much like a furnace, forever warm, hot underneath her fingertips, against her skin. Now his heat surges through her. “One day we’ll melt the snow,” she breaths out.Smooth lips press against her neck and shoulder. He quickens his pace, angling her head to reach her lips. “So long as it is you and I.”ii. Occasional clashes come to pass among the Wildlings. Lyanna has learned that for the much part they are content to keep to their borders, but sometimes they raid on neighbours. None think too harshly on it. It is the way of things.She washes the wound on Jon’s back with care as she stretches against the furs. “Woman, it is nothing to be worried over.” He says he’s had worse. To Lyanna it doesn’t signify. “You cry over the likes of this cut and you’ll make me look weak.”The cut, as he refers to it, is a long slash against his back. It is not a simple graze, having some depth to it. “I am not crying,” she protests, pressing the cloth a bit too hard against his back. She doesn’t apologise. Jon hisses in discomfort, but more to chide her than to express pain. “I only want you to be well.”iii. It is the soft cry that alerts Lyanna of the intruder. The sound is weak and shrill. Lyanna takes a dagger and heads to the back of the hut. She keeps the weapon raised, prepared to strike at the first sign of danger. She does not expect what she finds.There, underneath a clump of straw is a white ball of fur. It snarls at her approach, small red eyes taking her in. Lyanna crouches to the ground. A wolf. Or something the like. It is so small. Lyanna crouches and places the dagger on the ground. She snaps forward and catches the beast between her palms. It squirms against her hold and it takes settling the animal to her chest to obtain its cooperation. “All is well, little one, I shan’t hurt you.” She wonders briefly where the mother is. There are specks of dries blood on the fur, so Lyanna think the she-wolf is long gone at any rate. “I’ll care for you.”She brings the wolf into her house. Jon is yet at the hunt. He’ll be back later, but by then Lyanna hopes the guest will have settled in. She searches for the milk and fills a small bowl of it. The poor darling must be hungry. Kneeling she places the animal on her lap. A boy, she notices. He sniffles at the food, dips his tongue in to taste and after deeming it appropriate drinks his fill. Lyanna pates the white fur of his back.iv. "You are mad,” Jon accuses her when he find her with the beast on her lap. Lyanna circles her hands protectively around the pup. Her glare doesn’t seem to affect Jon much. “You will kill us.”“Not if we raise him right.” Her eyes beg him to reconsider. “Please, Jon. He is just a pup. He’ll die out there if we send him away.”Jon grumbles. His eyes narrow at the red-stare of the wolf. How is it that this woman has him bending over to please her? “Fine. But at the first sign if trouble, I’m taking its head off.”“It is a he.” Lyanna ruffles the fur on the little beast and Jon let out a small growl. “You should name him.” Her suggestion is met with resistance. Later, the pup crawl from the corner under the covers and Jon wakes with a curse upon his lips. The ball of fur is content where it sits. “Curse you and your stupid pet,” Jon mumbles, his eyes throwing danger to Lyanna’s sleeping face.v. Cut flesh and impossibly blue eyes. Lyanna takes in the sight of a man who had disappeared days ago. “Vargho,” she says, now remembering his name. “We were worried for you.” He does not reply, staring straight ahead. “Vargho,” Lyanna tries again, stepping closer to him.Unexpectedly the man jumps at her, thick fingers finding her neck and squeezing. She tries to scream but it’s already too late. All she manages to do is chokes out a weak sound. Lyanna pushes against the man. One hand searches for the dagger she carries with her. The lack of air makes her hazy. Her small hand grips the cool metal and she brings it, with all the force she can muster, down upon Vargho’s head. It slashes through the skin and bone breaks, yet he does not let go.A growl comes from behind her, and suddenly she’s on the ground, free. Ghost has jumped upon the foul creature, fangs tearing into him. Jon yells something and the direwolf draws back. Lyanna is picked up and she can make out the men screaming fire.“And you did not want him,” Lyanna speaks quietly. “I told you we should keep him.” Ghost bounds up to them, sniffing at Jon’s legs.Jon simply clutches her tighter to his chest, eyes checking her for wounds. “He has his uses,” the man admits when her stare does not go away from him. Then he looks to Ghost. “Well done, boy.” His attention snaps back to his woman. “Can you walk?”Nodding solemnly, Lyanna waits for him to place her back on her feet. “I am fine. You go here just in time.” Shaken. Scared. And sore-throated. Otherwise she is fine. “What was that?”“Silly summer child,” Jon scoffs. “This is why you should have never left that damned wall.” Alas his hands push her into a scorching kiss. Lyanna shudders helplessly. “Don’t leave my side,” he tells her seriously. Turning to the people that have gathered, Jon gives order that they are to move southwards. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Lyanna gathers her clothes, pulling them on hastily. She doesn’t have the time to look at the sleeping man any longer – she never has any time. There is a small bruise around her wrist from where Rhaegar has gripped the previous evening. Lyanna stares at a heedful of silver tresses and smiles. She leans over, her bra still undone and kisses his cheek, noting the growth of wiry, prickly facial hair. As always she leaves as quietly as possible, mindful of Rhaenys and her brother, Aegon, still being asleep. It’s four thirty in the morning. Her own son won’t be awake for a few hours yet, but Lyanna can’t stand to be away any longer. … Robert stinks of alcohol, and his eyes glint in a way that makes Lyanna shiver. “Whatever you want to tell me can wait until morning, Robert. Go before one of my brothers wakes and find you here.” She means to scare him away, she means to never have him back here again. It’s a little over a month into their relationship and the boy is already making demands. “What the hell? I ask you for this one thing, just to come with me for a walk, and you get like this?” He reaches out for her, hand grabbing sloppily at her shoulder. “Fuck this.” His mouth slams against hers without care. Lyanna shrieks, but she knows there will be no saviour for her. In truth her brothers are not home and her parents won’t be back for awhile yet. “Please, Robert. You’re drunk,” she tries to dissuade him between rough kisses and hard pulling. Lyanna pushes against his frame, and her trashing must have gotten him angry because he delivers a stinging slap to her face and murmurs a litany of curses. “Someone help! Please help!” It’s the middle of the night and she doesn’t expect an answer. Too scared to think, Lyanna starts praying to whoever is listening. The gods must have been in a good mood because quite suddenly a flash of light hits her face. “What is going on here?” a deep, harsh voice demands. The bark of this unknown man sound divine to Lyanna’s ears. “Please help!” she yells over the roaring of her blood. Robert, reacting at the same time, doesn’t even bother turning around when he speaks, “This doesn’t concern you. Walk away.” The stranger, whoever he is – Lyanna can’t see that well in the dark and the flashlight has left her momentarily blind anyway – jumps the fence and hauls Robert off of her. The skirmish that ensues ends with Robert knocked flat on his back and the police coming at her house. … Entering her small apartment, Lyanna is surprised when the phone in her pocket starts buzzing. She takes it out and shakes her head gently but answers anyway.”You should be asleep. You have work tomorrow.” “So do you,” comes the answer. “Couldn’t you just wake me up? Tell me you were leaving?” “When you sleeping so peacefully? It would’ve broken my heart.” She sits at the table, hoping her some does not wake up. Sometimes the door creeks terribly. … His name is Rhaegar Targaryen and his wife is dying. Elia Targaryen – formerly Martell – looks Lyanna over. She smiles a kind smile and offers her a sweet. “Rhaenys would get sick on these, she never knows when to stop.” “I’m sorry for coming over like this,” Lyanna starts, but she gets distracted by the scarf on the woman’s head. It’s so colourful, morbidly inappropriate. “I know it’s rude.” She’s still staring. “Oh, pish!” Elia hands her a cup of tea. “I think it’s nice of you to have come. Usually I don’t get much company.” Rhargar chooses that moment to return home. His look is one of total surprise. Not even once does he look at Elia. “Miss Stark.” Lyanna. Sitting up quite abruptly, Lyanna nearly spills the tea. “I came to thank you, sir.” It feels like she’s defending herself against some charges he hasn’t even laid out yet. “So, thank you, for saving my life.” “It’s good to see you are well, miss Stark.” Rhaegar turns his attention to his wife, coming closer and dropping a kiss to her cheek. “Elia.” Strangely enough, Lyanna doesn’t feel the urge to turn away. She ends up staying for dinner. She even plays a few games with Rhaenys. … “You could have stayed longer?” Rhaegar doesn’t sound hiding, but Lyanna knows exactly what his words are. “Do you have classes today?” “Yes,” she replies softly. “I should be done by two.” “I’ll pick you up,” he tells her. “Should we take the children to the park?” … It starts out innocently enough. Lyanna nurse a crush. It’s only natural, she tells herself. Rhaegar Targaryen has saved her life. Of course she wants to repay him somehow. And how better than being a comfort to Elia? “I’m pregnant,” the older woman lets it slip as they are having tea in the back garden. “I’m having a baby.” “But the chemo.” Lyanna stares at the woman in fear. “You can’t get your treatment like this.” Rhaegar reacts much like her but Elia is unmoved. “I want this baby, Rhaegar.” She accepts her husband’s embrace and Lyanna retreats to another room. For reasons unknown her heart is pounding in her chest. Lyanna shakes away the dark thoughts. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Jon knows it is wrong. He knows it goes against his vows – but he’s broken them before. He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t. But he does it either way – he’s done it before and maybe that is why the sin feels comfortable, like an old friends. The only difference is that his partner in crime is right there with him, knowing that what she does it not right.And now he cannot untaste her, wipe her away from his memory and go on as if she does not exist. As if this has not been happening on a regular basis.Lyanna’s nails drag against the skin of his back, her lips against his ear releasing words he cannot understand. Jon is too drunk on her to care. “Mine, mine, mine.” The mantra is both on his lips and in his mind. Lyanna agrees, her voice atremble.Yes and yours and tonight. Because it’s never longer than these few hours in her chambers. It’s never better than in her embrace, stealing kisses in the shadows. Because, because, because. Because Jon has never thought he’d ever feel this way about a woman again. And here he is, breaking his vows in the sweetness of her skin and the scented tresses crushed betwixt his fingers.“Gods, how I love you.” And he wishes he wouldn’t. He wishes that East wasn’t quite so close to North. Yet it is in his very nature – bastard – to do what he’s done. Snow or Blackfyre. Black or White. It is all the same. Jon vows are silenced for a short while in the willing warmth of a woman’s affections.The South stands aside, unwilling to see the bonds. King Tommen Baratheon follows his father – the one that gave him his name, not the one that put him in his mother’s womb – and takes a Queen from the North. He wears the crown. He swings the swords. And Jon ought to be better, to know better. East and North had tried this many times with unfortunate results.Lyanna Mormont Baratheon gazes at him with eyes that beg. ”Don’t. Only death this way lies.” And history is a never-ending cycle, all mistakes are – sometimes voluntarily – repeated.Then he is dead and has been for many years now. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Jon knows she is Sansa. Alayne Stone may have brown hair, but the roots are red, and he sees that. Her eyes are Tully blue. Her mouth curves into a smile like Lady Catelyn’s. Robb is dead. Bran, Arya and Rickon are nowhere to be found. And Sansa – Sansa who goes by Alayne Stone – holds a small bundle in her arms.The babe is small are red-faced still, or maybe it is the cold that reddens his cheeks. Red hair curls in rich ringlets. “What is his name?”“Leyton,” Sansa, or should he call her Alayne, replies, eyes staring at the corpse on the bed. “Snow,” she adds after a brief silence. “Leyton Snow.” She rocks the babe gently, a child with a child. “He was going to marry me.”Putting a hand on her shoulder, Jon wonders how she can be so sure of it. But Sansa explains it even without him asking. “I had such high hopes when he called me his little wolf.”Leyton fusses in her arms, dark eyes reminiscent of his father’s. “Leyton Stark,” Jon says moments later. He falls on one knee. “The North awaits its Queen. Do they know?”“Only Willas knew.” Sansa waits for Jon to get up before giving him the babe. She pulls the sheets over the dead man. “Take me home, Jon.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Lyanna stood before the window, her head resting on her hands. The Dornish sun was merciless as it had ever been, burning whatever its rays touched. The young woman gave a long sigh. She turned to look at the wooden crib that had been placed in the shades. Her babe slept, obvious to the problems which she faced. There were times when she didn’t quite know why she was here.Nay, that was not true. Lyanna did know why. Just the reasoning behind her actions eluded her at times.But if she thought about it – sat down and really thought about it – she could find some sort of logic. A naïve way of thinking at its best. A destructive force at its worst. Why hadn’t she chosen the safe path? Love and be silent. That was what she should have done. There were times when she hated herself for it. For not being strong enough to refuse what she’d had no business going after. And then there were times when she felt that she had done right. At least for her. Should she have accepted a life she did not want when she had means of escaping it? Lyanna though a moment upon Robert. His smile. His blue eyes. His boldness. His paramours. His bastards. Why had she refused the man’s affections? Could she not have lived with her eyes closed? Ignoring the whispers, the seductive smiles, the double-meaning of every exchange.Robert had loved her, he probably still did. He would marry her even as she was. Lyanna’s eyes were drawn again to the crib. It rocked gently. The babe slept on, unbothered by her gaze lingering. Robert loved her. But he hated Rhaegar just as much, if not doubly more. And her boy was half Rhaegar. In Elia’s children he’d seen only the Dragon’s blood. He would not see the Wolf in her child no matter how she pleaded. Lyanna knew she could demand that the guards take her back, but she would be a child murderer in that event. Worse still, a slayer of her own kin.Did another life change anything? One more death to the others. Her father’s blood had spilled already, her brother’s blood too. A few more drops; what did it matter at this point? Better her than anyone else. Rhaenys had been stabbed over and over again. Aegon’s skull had been smashed to a wall. At least Lyanna would not give her child such a death. She would be careful. Others would show no such mercy, no such concern. They would treat the person she loved most like common trash. Lyanna could not allow that.She could do nothing for others. But this she had the power to do. Love was as deadly as any knife, the Northerner had learned. An embrace and a kiss, a whisper and a touch. Only poison could match love in the sweetness. A warm hold. Babes were fragile. It would be enough to let her darling sleep on her chest. The door opened with a small sound. Ser Arthur stepped over the threshold. “My lady, have you thought about what you will write to them?”Turning to the man, Lyanna frowned. “I will write nothing,” she told him decisively. “What can I say now? That I am sorry? That I wish to be taken back?”“You could,” he replied ever placidly. Light purple eyes took in her appearance. “What other choice do you have?”Death, she thought sharply. The moment passed. “I cannot. I will not. My babe,” she protested, taking a few steps towards him. “You yourself told me about Princess Elia’s children, Ser. You think to convince me of abandoning the only one that matters to me any longer.”“And your brother?” Ser Dayne was the one to tell her hurtful truths. Lyanna wondered at the small twinge of hate. “Ned.” The name felt strange on her lips. It had been so long since she’d spoken it. “Poor Ned.” Like words could wash away her own guilt. “He will do as he’s done until now. He’ll survive. No matter what, he’ll survive.” As if mere words could bring back together all that she’d broken. “Us Starks are tougher than we look.”His smile seemed an agreement. “So you will not.” He too glanced towards the crib. “Could I sail to Essos from here? Have I any chance?” Rhaegar hadn’t left money. So sure had her Prince been of his victory that he left her only a promise of his return. But Lyanna had some jewellery pieces. She could supposedly sell those and buy a place on a ship. “Would you come with me?”Why would she ask him that? Ser Dayne, Ser Whent and Ser Hightower, they had been with her on this journey. She supposed it was habit by now to expect their presence. Still, they were sworn to the king. Whoever would take the Throne that was.“Or will you return to King’s Landing?” Could these knights, friends of Rhaegar’s, disregard his death and turn to serve the man that killed him? A Kingsguard was sworn to the king. Should it matter he bore the name Baratheon, and not Targaryen? Lyanna waited for an answer.“That depends on who the king is,” he responded. “As of now Westeros has two claimants to its throne. The Kingsguard can only serve one king.”“What mean you?” Lyanna sat down, suddenly tired. She was ages older than she should have been. “Viserys? He has declared for the throne?” The boy would be killed.“Nay, but you think those who support his House will not push him to it? Rhaegar is gone, his father is dead. The boy is next in line.” The explanation did little to assuage Lyanna’s anxiety. But it was the truth.She hadn’t rightly know Rhaegar’s brother. And her own brother and father had died on the King’s order. Should the potential death of the boy not feel like retribution to her? Why then did she wish for his survival? Perhaps because logic had fled her mind a long time ago. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Blood burns hot. Hotter than fire, hotter than the frigid burn of ice. The blood on her hands stains the white of the fresh snow. Lyanna presses her hand against the gash, blood sliding between her fingers. The blade too is covered in red. “There can only be one queen.” Coldhands climbs atop his elk. He extends one blackened hand. “The Queen of Winter,” she murmurs.“The warmth of a beating heart’s blood is poison to her.” Black and red touch. “Capable warriors are a necessity.”Jon wraps her wound. He doesn’t say anything. They both know how this ends. The three-eyed crow is perched on his high branch, looking down at them. If it is an illusion or not, it matters little. The truth of it is that a song of ice and fire still needs to be sung. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Jaehaera feels the weight of the crown when it is placed on her head by the High Septon as she kneels before him and Aegon. She feels the heat of her husband’s stare and the burn is in no way pleasant. Aegon will never forget his mother’s death, and whatever pity he has for his young wife he will never forgive her for being the daughter of his mother’s killer.She can only do so much to keep her tears in check. She is here to bring peace. As if the straight faced man marrying her will magically wash away the blood. As if a heart once broken can be put back together with a few words.Queen Jaehaera is as grim faced as her husband. They make a striking pair. Or come close enough to it for the guests to applaud loud and long. “Long live the King! Love live the Queen!” Long live. Long live. “Long may they prosper!” The cheer is almost deafening.Jaehaera the child would have dipped her chin in demurely, a smile playing on her lips. Queen Jaehaera walks down the steps, her arm around Aegon’s. She prays that he is merciful. She prays that he has enough pity left in him for a girl who was the princess to his knight when his sword was still a wooden stick. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Aegon brushes his fingers through her hair, his hips moving languidly now. This lips kiss along her collarbone. The soft sound of her pleasure barely reaches his ears. He loves and hates her at the same time. Two contrary passions mingle inside of his, setting his blood on fire every time his eyes land on her. Half the time he wants to be sweet to her, a good husband to her good wife, but the other half, he wants her to feel even just a fraction of his pain. Not physically. Aegon would not strike a woman – one such as she, frail and meek. There are other ways.His hand slides between her legs, fingers seeking out that space where they are joined. She keens at his touch, blunt nails digging into his shoulders. “Aegon,” she breathes against the top of his bent head. “Aegon.” Aegon. Aegon. Gods! He feels the quiver of her thighs, but he doesn’t increase his pace. Nay, he waits for her to speak again. He wants her to be as desperate as he feels when she enters a room but does not stay at the side of anyone but the Hand, Prince Viserys. So he makes sure the Velaryon girl is somewhere close at hand. Much like his namesake he carries a disproportionate love for these two women in his life. “Aegon,” she calls again, this time with some urgency. The Velaryon girl, Aegon closes his eyes in thought, body coming to a still. Tall and golden, buxom and sturdy. A mother of many sons, hopefully. Jaehaera is of another ilk. She is still very much in the way she was the year he wedded her, young and fresh-looking with lithe limbs. The Maesters are sceptical about her chances of carrying a child well. And indeed to this day she’s not taken his seed for the nights he’s lain with her.***********************************************************************************************************************Jaehaera watches Aegon sleep. She doesn’t understand why he insists on spending all these nights with her. The first Queen is not as foolish as many suppose her. Daenaera is carrying her second babe, little Daeron having just been weaned. He could well find his pleasure elsewhere, she won’t produce him any child. The Maesters think she is barren. A suitable punishment, some whisper, for her father’s wretchedness. She leaves the bed silently. The moon has risen high, full and bright. Instinctively her hand travels to her stomach and tears gather in her eyes. She is guilty, very guilty of being her father’s daughter. Jaehaera looks up with more attention. The clouds are gathering too. It looks like it’ll rain soon. The perfect weather to be safely ensconced in bed, under thick blankets. Strong arms, with sinewy muscles, wrap around her middle, pulling her back into a warm body she knows perhaps even better than her own. Her fingers trace the scar that runs along his right arms, now barely visible. “My lord, you do not sleep? The hour is late.”“For you also,” is his reply. Aegon turns her around and kisses her lips. He finds it easy to lift her off her feet and push his way inside of her. Jaehaera acquiesces to his treatment of her with her usual submissiveness. ***********************************************************************************************************************Viserys eyes her with distrust when she takes Daeron to sit on her lap. “I have heard Morghul is in a deplorable state.”Her dragon is ill. “The maesters are doing what they can for him.” Her breast swells with the beast’s pain. “Daeron, my little Prince,” she admonishes gently when the child pulls on her unbound hair. Daeron pains her no mind, so her own attention returns to Viserys.He is the one who placed Daenaera Velaryon in his brother’s path, explaining to the King the pressing need for an heir. She has not forgotten that. Yet she will not put herself in harm’s way by offending the man. Viserys has sway over her husband and her very life is in the man’s hands, dependent on his caprices. Her lord and master enters with sure steps. He gives one look to his brother, a silent order to leave, and has his son taken back to the nursery. “My lord.” There are a thousand unspoken questions in her greeting, but Aegon is well pleased to order even her ladies to leave.“You break your fast with my brother?” Wide, rough hands caress her face. “And with your son,” she adds in that manner she knows will bring a reaction out of him. “I did not wish to be a burden to you, knowing you must look after the realm. I do not mean to cling to your sleeve and tire you further.” His hands slide down to her neck, supple skin growing taut under his fingertips. Jaehaera welcomes the pressure. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Every day, after escaping her Septa’s watchful eye, after she needs no longer provide entertainment in her father’s hall, Gwyneth Yornwood stands atop the highest cliff and watches for the sails of a galley, hoping in her heart that Quentyn return on it. She stares long and hard after the telltale sign of an approaching ship, keen eyes not missing a detail.And every day her heart becomes heavy and painful when the sun sets and no sign of a ship appears. She runs back to her father’s keep and into the small sept where she prays to the gods. She prays for her brother’s safety, his companions’ wellbeing and she begs the gods to keep Quentyn in good health. This she asks of them in short, quick breath, fearing that the switch awaits her if she is caught.Hurrying up the stairs, Gwynethe slips under the covers, next to her bed mate, Myrra. And then she closes her eyes and dreams sweet dreams of a kind Prince who makes her heart beat faster. In these dreams his sober features are relaxed. He looks happy as he drapes a cloak the colour of oranges around her shoulder and the sun kisses them both. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Jaehaera often finds herself wondering if her King remembers how to smile. Can he turn his lips in a crescent that expresses joy, or even amusement? The man sits across from her at the table, studiously avoiding her gaze. He concentrates on his food, but the way he chews indicates that it could have as well been ashes in his plate and he would have been just as well pleased with those. She swallows the piece of meat in a mirror of her husband’s actions but her mind is a thousand miles away.He knew how to smile when she was a little girl. He knew how to laugh as well. She remembers the warmth of those smiles. Jaehaera sees the young boy he’d once been and her chest tightens with the joy-pain of it. He caught her once as she was about to fall. He had been nigh seven years of age. She had had four years then. Their grandfather had still been alive at that time.“Why do you smile, my lady?” his voice breaks through the fog of her thoughts. Jaehaera looks up. He watches her with eyes like two chips of ice. She wonders if her face gives anything away. It is not likely for he feels the need to ask again, “What amuses you?”“I-“ she begins and then stops. She cannot tell him. Her lips part as if to give in a reason or buy herself more time. Jaehaera sighs. He eyes her still, the slightest hint of contempt hidden behind a wall of cold curtsey. She drops her head and a plate of stewed vegetables appears in front of her. Green peas catch her eye. “You are not partial to peas.” She looks up.Something shifts in his gaze. They had attended a banquet, sometime before their grandfather’s death and they’d been served pea soup amongst others. “You remember.” He does not smile and he does not look pleased. How does he feel?“How could I forget?” Her voice is strained. She hates herself for that. It had been one of the last moments of carefree happiness. She scoops the peas on her plate. “Threat averted.” When they were children she helped him make the bowl of soup disappear. “I don’t know if I managed to get all of them.”Aegon remains silent. He studies her now and his eyes have lost some of their chill. He extends his hand and takes his own spoon to the plate of vegetables. He clears the parsnip away without a word. He is diligent. Jaehaera hides the smile that threatens to bloom on her face. Parsnip does not agree with her.They continue their meal in silence that is if not amiable, not an arrow to her heart. Now she really is sure her husband does not remember how to smile. It is too painful for him. He used to smile and laugh when his mother was alive. That woman could make anyone smile. Jaehaera lifts a spoonful of peas to her lips and shudders when she catches a bit of the Dornish peppers she has been trying to avoid of late. Her mouth burns and her eyes water. She cannot possibly spit the vile thing out. Jaehaera swallows. With difficulty.Her husband is watching her with curiosity again. She ignores the urge to stare back. Instead she wraps her fingers around her cup of sweet wine. His gaze is insistent. A blush burns her cheeks. Is it the peppers or the attention? Jaehaera gives up trying to find out. She licks her lips and takes a sip of the wine.“Is aught amiss?” he finally asks. She wants his attention. She needs more than the polite indifference he graces her with most times.“Nay.” Right now she is actually proud of her composure. His eyes narrowed into slits. Jaehaera holds on to her mask. Her fingers twist the material of her skirts. The urge to rear away from him she stamps with conviction she did not she possessed. Convincing herself that she is in no danger, Jaehaera continues her game.“Jaeheara.” Her name falls from his lips, a whip crack, an order. She holds her breath. Aegon leans in towards her, but thankfully the table between them is quite large, so as to render his movement a mere drop in the ocean. He could barely even reach her hands had they been on the table. Which they aren’t. “Jaehaera!” he repeats, louder this time.Her fingers ache. She looks down at her lap. Of course they would. She’d been twisting them into the folds of her dress, holding them so stiffly it’s a wonder they haven’t fallen off. She lets go and flexes her fingers. “I believe I am not hungry any longer.” She sits still.It is bad form to rise before the King does. Even as his wife, she is to wait until he is done and only then can she take to her own feet. Aegon gives her a sharp look, but he is in no hurry to rise. He motions the cup bearers away. They retreat. She returns her eyes to his face. A battle of wills commences.Jaehaera has been, for as long as she could remember, a placid, calm, reserved sort of woman. Anger to her is an icy calmness and joy is a bright smile. She is not fond of exhibiting her emotions. She does not want people studying her. It’s a misfortune to have been born a princess with her disposition. Right now, though, she wishes she had been different. More like aunt Rhaenyra. This rage coursing through her veins is not of her own making. She does not feel so strongly. A princess, and for that matter a queen, does not allow her temper to rule her.Aegon rises to his feet, towering over her seated form. “We shall discuss later.” He stalks past her as she too stands, but she can swear she hears him chocking back a sound. Whether it is irritation or something else, she cannot tell. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The maester shakes his head and Aegon can feel something ugly rising inside of him. “So you’ve said the last time too, maester.” The implacability of his stare would have been enough to melts rocks, but the maester shakes his head again. Aegon doesn’t want to listen to this. “Either you save her or I put your head up on the battlements.” His frown deepens. “Get out!” he manages between clenched teeth.Scurrying past him the man looks even more like a rat. Aegon dismisses the rest of Jaehaera’s women with a sharp nod. He walks to his wife’s bed and looks down upon her pasty face. A sheen of sweat cover her forehead and her breathing is too shallow by half. Aegon sits on the edge of the bed, taking her hand in his. He wills her to open her eyes and look at him.His anger grows tenfold when she continues to ignore his silent plea. The gods are cruel. He’s always known. But this is too much. She was supposed to get better. She was supposed to sit across from him in the morning and tell him between bites of food that the next time she would give him an heir. Instead she lies dying. “Damn you,” he hisses, on the verge of shaking her awake now. “You little fool.”Jaehaera has never carried a child to term. Every single one of them she’d bled out. And every single time she would fall into a spell of grief after which she would her way back in his arms. Aegon doesn’t blame her. He should, because he needs an heir. But Aegon doesn’t cast her aside in favour of another. Jaehaera is his Queen. Mayhap his attachment is foolish, but Aegon cannot let her go. She had miscarried before and she has pulled through even after filling lakes with all the blood she’s lost. So why won’t she get better now?“Jaehaera!” There is desperation in his voice. He recognises the crack in it and the unpleasant taste burning in the back of his throat. “Jaehaera, please.” Her lips tremble and her eyelid flutter. For half a heartbeat he thinks he might have woken her. But she settled back in sleep. “You cannot die, do you hear? I won’t allow it.”But when was he ever strong enough to stop the Stranger? Jaehaera shudders lightly. Her eyes open this time. The glassy violet staring up at him is foreign. Yet his wife smiles. Her lips open and, he cannot be sure, but she seems to be whispering his name. Then her voice becomes louder. “Aegon, you came. I was having such a nice dream.”Rough fingers clench around her soft small hand. Gods be good, he doesn’t want to see her light fading. “What was it about?”“I was dreaming of our garden,” she says. “I was dreaming of the rosebush.” A faint smile touches her lips. “Jaehaerys came for me.”The words cut right through his heart. Argon grinds his teeth. Jaehaerys, of course, it would be Jaehaerys in her dreams. He’s been dead for a decade now, but she still dreams of her lost brother. Aegon brushes away a lock of damp hair that sticks to her cheek. His intrusion in their garden is telling. “What did Jaehaerys say?” he finally asks because the silence is more painful.“He wanted me to thank you.” The words drop like a ton on bricks on his head. Jaehaera doesn’t seem to notice, perhaps too much in pain or too far gone. “Aegon, I have to go,” she rasps, her hand clinging weakly to his. “I don’t want to leave,” his wife murmurs.“The don’t,” he tells her, “don’t ever leave me. Stay by my side.” It seems so simple. Aegon doesn’t know why he hasn’t though of this before. “Stay with me, Jaehaera.”This time her smile is warm and full of grief. “Don’t mourn me, Aegon. Wed again and have children. The realm needs this.” He shakes his head. She’s right, but he cannot fathom her as anything but by his side. “If you ever have a daughter, don’t name her Jaehaera. She shouldn’t be followed by tragedy.”“You needn’t worry over such matters. On the morrow you shall feel better,” he assures her. But his voice is trembling. “And then even better after and soon you will give me a son.” ‘Tis folly, ‘tis wistful thinking. She is dying before his eyes.“I’ve always liked Daeron. It is such a powerful name.” Her eyes shine, but it is the pain and suffering, not her happiness. Aegon leans in and brushes his lips to hers. “I should like to have a son named Daeron.”“We’ll have a son.” It’s almost an order. “And his name will be Daeron.” His hear constricts painfully. I love you, the words are on the tip of his tongue, but he cannot say them. Gods damn it all. I love you, Jaehaera. It is not a difficult thing to say. I love you. I love you. I love you.But, what if she dies?“I never meant to be a burden. I will wait for you patiently,” she says. “Live long, husband. And leave all this sorrow behind.” Her voice is so faint by the end that he can barely hear it. Her hand slips from his and terror grips him.“Jaehaera!” he calls out, taking her face in his hands. “Jaehaera! Oh gods!” I love you! Her breathing is almost nonexistent now. Pain rips through him.And finally she breaths no longer.A sort of madness descends upon him. Aegon rips his hands away from her and hits the first thing he can find. A chair crashes to the ground, a table follows. Wine spills from a goblet and rage, horrible, blinding fury has him howling.The door flies open and Viserys hurries in. He tries to restrain his brother, but what he receives for his efforts is a punch in the chest. “She’s dead! She’s gone!” Viserys yells from his position on the ground. “Valar morghulis.”Surprisingly this calms him. Aegon looks at his dead wife as if seeing her for the first time. He leaves his brother to stand up on his own and make his way back to Jaehaera’s side. He touches her face with trembling fingers. Leaning in, his lips touching the shell of her ear, he speaks. “I love you, Jaehaera.” Aegon takes the cooling body in his arms and kisses her bloodless lips. “I could never leave you behind.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Daenaera cradles her newborn daughter and tries not be disheartened by her husband’s frown. He looks at the babe as if he had been expecting something else. “What would like to name her, my lord?” she asks. “I though, perhaps, you might like to name her after your lady mother.”Aegon shakes his head. “Nay, not Rhaenyra.” Daenaera wonders if he considers naming the child after her predecessor in his bed. A silent fury steals over her at the though. He would not dare do this to her. He would not. At least she thinks so.He won’t say as much, but Daenaera is well aware that her husband’s heart beats for a woman whose flesh is powder and ashes, whose heart has long since stopped beating. Jaehaera she was named. Jaehaera the dead queen. Jaehaera the childless. Jaehaera Targaryen the first wife of Aegon. Daenaera’s lips set in a mutinous line. The babe starts crying and Aegon pulls back suddenly.Her husband won’t even look at her. She has given him children, three more than his dead first wife, and she has given him all her love and devotion. But Aegon doesn’t see that. He keeps staring out the window at Jaehaera’s Garden, at the tree underneath which rests his Queen.Daenaera might be the queen of the Seven Kingdoms, but Jaehaera is the Queen of Aegon’s heart. “Then mayhap my lord will find her a name.” Not Jaehaera, not Jaehaera, not Jaehaera, she prays, hoping the gods are not so cruel. Anything but Jaehaera. Any other name but that.“Let her name be Daena,” he proclaims a moment later, his eyes still on the gardens. Daenaera rocks the child gently. “Will that please you, my lady?” There is something mocking about the words. Aegon cares little for what pleases her. He simply wants children. He even named their firstborn Daeron, because that woman had liked the name. Viserys told her.“It please me greatly to please you,” she says in the end. Daena gurgles in her arms and shifts her position. “Won’t you hold her?” Violet eyes cut from her face to the babe’s. He has held Daeron and Baelor. But only a few weeks after they’d been born. Aegon was not with her when their sons were born. “Come, my lord, hold our daughter,” Daenaera cajoles.Aegon sighs but takes the child in his arms. He studies her face . Daenaera smiles warmly at the picture they make. She’ll win him over yet. That dead little queen of his cannot hold a candle to her. All she needs to do is keep him close to herself and the children and eventually he’ll forget all about Jaehaera Targaryen.“Is she not beautiful?” the mother asks, beaming at husband and daughter.“She is lovely.” And the ice pierces her heart again. Aegon never calls anyone beautiful. Viserys told her once that only Jaehaera was ‘beautiful’ to him after their mother’s death.“She is your daughter,” Daenaera hisses at him. “Surely you can think of something better than lovely.”Aegon gives her back the child and leaves without another word. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- She draws the skirts up to her knees and dips in just a toe at first, then the whole foot, then the water reached her ankle. Her other foot is still on the ground. Gwyneth looks at him over her shoulder, dark eyes sparkling with amusement. “Are you certain you shan’t join me, my Prince?” her voice is soft against his eras.Quentyn doesn’t think she is doing this on purpose. She cannot know how this display makes his blood heat up and sizzle. Instead of enlightening her, the Prince smiles benignly. “I am quite comfortable here, my lady.” He watches as her other foot take it into the water. She climbs down a few more steps until the edge of her skirts is touching the water.How jealous Quentyn is of the sweet water caressing her skin like he wants to do. Gwyneth whirls around, a smile on her face. “It’s quite cool, this water.” Her fingers bunch the material just a bit higher. Quentyn is riveted by the patch of skin exposed to his gaze. Suddenly she lets out a scream, dropping the skirts.He jumps to his feet and hurries towards the steps. When his hands are around her waist, hers own clutch his shoulders. Quentyn pulls her out of the waters, mindless of the damp clothing clinging to her legs. Her fingers are digging into his skin through the material of his tunic.“What is it, Gwyneth?” he asks her slowly, eyes on the water. He can make nothing out.“There was something there,” she says quietly. “Something brushed against my leg.” But then she’d shaking her head. “Oh, I don’t know, my Prince. It was so sudden.”Maybe it was something. Or mayhap it was nothing. Quentyn leads them back to the rocks and Gwyneth sits down next to him. She is trembling lightly, no doubt cold by now. “We should go back.” Her leg is pressed against his and Quentyn should hate himself for this, but it thrills him.Gwyneth flushes red. “If Your Grace so desires.” Her chin drops and long locks of dark hair tumble forward to cover her face from his gaze.What Quentyn desires is to kiss every inch of her, from the crown of her head down to her toes. What Quentyn desires is to lie down with her this very night and hold her. He wants to make love to her until the early hours of the morning. He wants to feel her and know her and hear her cry out in pleasure that he has brought upon her.What Quentyn does is take her hand and take her back to the keep. He will have her soon enough. So he watches the wet skirts clinging to her legs and lets himself be consumed by thoughts of her dainty feet and shapely legs. Gwyneth Yronwood promised him her love a lifetime ago and he is here to collect the debt. Little Gwyneth is still little, but older, approachable. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Aegon watched her slip the doeskin slippers off her feet and place them neatly at her side. She walked barefoot to the water and knelt, the material of her dress growing taut. How like a snake he felt watching her from his reclining position. But just as the sun could not help shining, Aegon could not help gazing at Jaehaera. She cupped water in her hands and brought it to her lips. “The water here is so sweet,” she said. “Come, have a sip, husband.” The invitation rolled off her lips and Aegon would have been persuaded to give her the moon in the sky if she asked for that in the same way. She smiled when he sat next to her and offered him her cupped palms. Aegon bent his head over them and took what she gave. But it was not water that he wanted the taste of in his mouth. So instead of leaving her to her water, he caught her arm gently and pulled her wrist to his lips, bushing the throbbing vein softly. His wife sucked in a breath. The right thing to do was to return to his spot in the shade of the tree. What he did was pull her in his arms and kiss her lips. She gasped and stiffened, but soon enough she responded to his prompting.“The night is not yet fallen,” she whispered, her breath hot on his face. Yet she helped him lift her skirts and pulled him to the ground with her. “Someone might happen by.” She pressed her foot to his booted calf, fingers fighting the laces of his breeches.“We are alone,” he grunted, unknotting the strings of her dress, which where blessedly at the front. Tugging until it gave way, Aegon arched slightly when her fingers crossed the nape of his neck. “No one is about.” She crossed her legs behind his knees and he kissed her then, passionately. Desire thrummed in his veins, mirror by her anticipation. “But we could always stop,” he panted slightly with the effort of holding back. Blunt nails dug in his skin. She seemed to have no words for him. But her meaning was clear as she gave a shallow thrust of her hips. He caught her before she could reach the ground and she took him inside in one thrust. Aegon moved slowly, testing her, but Jaehaera was having none of it. She scratched at his back and sucked on his lower lip. She was goading him into relinquishing his iron control. And Aegon decided that he might just indulge her.Pushing one of her legs higher, he effectively lifted her almost off the ground as its twin limb followed. The shift brought a change in rhythm. His gaze caressed her writhing form and then his lips and mouth followed his eyed. Who would have thought that he’d gain a wife so much after his own mind.One leg fell, heel digging into the ground when Jaehaera broke his world in flashes of blinding light, only to remake it with her wildly beating heart and soft loving whispers trickled in his ear. A man would have to be truly heartless and with ice for blood to ignore that.He pulled away ruefully and looked at the lake while rightening his clothes. If he looked at her, he would only want her again. It was a curse running through his veins and he cherished every single moment of it. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Words are powerful. Jaime learns this only once his position is precariously close to bringing his mind toppling down. The walls he raises around himself are so easily brought down. They corrode and decay each time a cry comes from behind the closed doors. He closes his eyes to stop the images from forming, but the bruises and scars taunt him in flashes. His mind screams, two different voices warring inside his head.In the end it is words that hold him back. His own words, sworn out of a misguided conception. Jaime sought glory by speaking words he had no knowledge the meaning of. His folly brings him only endless nights of horrifying images to plague him in his sleep. He is no safer during waking hours. Daylight provides him with new material to fuel his night terrors.Binding words cut as deep as any sword, Jaime finds. But this wound cannot be wrapped in linens and healed with salves. So they fester, the rot spreading to the very depths of his soul. There is no cutting the foulness from his breast. Try as he might, Jaime can do nothing but close himself well away from these horrors, become deaf and blind and heartless. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The Stranger is greedy, Aegon thinks, watching as Lord Baratheon bends over Jaehaera’s hand. Out of all the Gods, ‘tis the Stranger that the King wishes he could knock out of the sky. His Queen sits the throne with as much Grace as she had in life but anyone can tell that the roses in her cheeks have wilted and the light in her eyes is gone. He can see the black marking on her skin, testimony to the God’s fatal touch. But Aegon is not prepared to let her go.So every day she is bathed and dressed, her stiff limbs forced into soft silks. Every day a little bit more of the rot is covered in bandages. Every day she awaits him, a perfect speechless statue, her eyes closed. She will never open them, he knows, yet Jaehaera’s presence is soothing even so. He shan’t allow the Stranger free reign of her. It is a promise that he will find her again once he crosses to whatever waits beyond this life. He hopes ‘tis she waiting. It is his way of asking for her patience and indulgence. Until he can truly be with her again, this is enough. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Something wet slides against his cheek and the pressure in his chest gives way, air rushing in his lungs. Rhaegar eyes open to a light blue sky. He blinks in confusion. The hammer came down, smashing against his armoured chest. The breastplate cracked and dented, metal tearing through his chest, blood and rubies flying all around. Where is he?He brings his hand to his chest. His fingertips are soaked in blood. His blood, Rhaegar realises a moment later when he looks down.He is dead. The realisation doesn’t surprise him. It fails to raise any kind of response from him. “I’m sorry,” That’s all that he can say to Elia. She is covered in blood, cradling a deformed creature that was once their son. Rhaenys hols onto her mother’s skirts.Rhaegar kneels and holds his arms opened. The little Princess fairly flies into his arms. Rhaegar kisses her dark curls and rocks her gently. “I called you, father. And now you are here.” She pulls away slightly. “I was brave.”Elia watches them without saying a word. She owes him nothing here. Her eyes cut through him though, for Rhaenys sports the marks of cruelty on her fragile, small body. Rhaegar holds her gently by the shoulders. “Of course you were brave. You are my daughter.” The last to come is Lyanna. The young she-wolf does not seem confused or sad or anything really. There is blood on the skirts of her dress and a crown of blue roses rests on her temples. She looks around with vague curiosity. Rhaegar does not interrupt her.When she finally notices him a small smile makes its way to her lips. How unexpected, the Prince thinks. But Lyanna has already gathered her skirt in one hand and she is walking along the narrow path to him. He meets her halfway.Rhaegar brushes a strand of dark hair back. “Why are you here?”“It was a son,” she says, her hand sliding in his. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Honour and duty are nothing to love, a thousand voices speak as Robb feels the crude stitches that bind the beast’s head to the human’s body. The heart wants what the heart wants. Whatever happens was written so from the very beginning; not time, nor chance shall alter the path.A hand touches his shoulder and Robb turns around slightly. A familiar face peers up at him. But the woman is a stranger. Her blood runs down the delicate silk of her dress, yet she smiles for some unknown reason. The crown of roses gives her away. However, she speaks even before that.“Welcome, brother, to where the price of love is paid.” From behind the woman – nay, Lyanna, Robb corrects himself – steps a strange shadow. It is gone before long. “Come, join us,” Lyanna invites him, pulling on his sleeve. Robb follows, his eyes taking in the feast of the dead. Strangely enough, they all look eerily alive.“Where are we?” he asks, still in awe.“Have I not told you,” his aunt laughs. “You are in the Hall of the Dead. And here you shall remain until the end of days.” That smile is still of her lips. Robb wonders if it is frozen there. Does she not realise they are dead?“I want to go back,” he hears himself saying.Lyanna’s shoulders slump. Her smile falters. “We all do.” The whisper plays softly past his ear. “But the dead and the living should not mingle. I am sorry. I wasn’t ready to go either.” She inclines her head slightly. “Tell me about Jon.”Why he knows she speaks of Jon Snow, Robb can’t say. Just as he doesn’t understand how he knows that Jon has her smile. “Jon chose honour.” Everything makes sense now.She looks up suddenly as if she can see past the dark dome that shelters them. “Honour is good.” The young woman sighs. “But it feels empty.” Her lips purse for a moment. “Lonely too.”“Can the dead feel pain?” Robb questions. The hollowness in his chest hurts him.“Always,” Lyanna replies. “Let us sit.” And they make their way to bench where a bleeding man plays a harp, the sweet sounds filling the hall. Next to him sits a young man, his face burned and distorted. Robb also sees his father a little way away, having words with a knight in armour and a lady who drips blood from between her lips and cradles an infant. All these people he has never met, but he knows them.His father turns around and greets him sadly. “I had hoped to not see you here for a long time,” Eddard says. Nonetheless, he is engulfed in a fatherly embrace and some of the darkness is pushed back. Lyanna has slipped away and she now sits with her head against the harpist’s shoulder. “Come meet Ser Dayne and his sister, Lady Ashara.” And Robb does.Slowly, slowly all concerns with the other world fade as the conversation progresses. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Tears fill Jaehaera’s eyes as her hands slap against the glass. Unfortunately, her strongest of hits does not seem to have any effect on the wall of her prison. Desperately she looks around, thinking to find some aid. But just as before, the space is empty. There is her and darkness. Frustration rips an anguished cry from her.The last of her memories involve a tearful goodbye and her husband’s warm embrace. Now she is alone in a sea of nothingness. Is this one of the seven hells, she wonders. Is she condemned? But why?A loud creak distracts her from those thoughts momentarily. A sliver of light spears the dark. Jaehaera’s hand follows it, but her fingers make contact with the invisible wall holding her captive before she can reach it. Thwarted, she bites down upon her lower lip to keep from screaming.But then a veritable flood of light breaks against the glass as the door opens to reveal a wizened old man. Relief blossoms in Jaehaera’s breast at the sight of him. Surely he will help her out. The man stops and stares at her. Jaehaera opens her mouth to speak, but before a word can leave her lips, the old man turns his back to her and walks out the room.“Wait!” she yells after him. “Come back! Please!” And someone does. But it is not the old man.Before Jaehaera stands her husband in his customary mourning clothes. He approaches her carefully, as if not knowing what to expect. Jaehaera is speechless, shock and joy both contributing equally. He touches the glass and she mirrors his movement. Warmth spreads against her palm and only then does she realise how cold she is.“Aegon,” she says softly. A greeting. A prayer.“You really are here. I doubted he could do it.” Confusion touches her face at such speech. “I thought I lost you,” her husband continues, “but Tollard kept his word and brought you back.”“Back?” What does he mean? “Aegon, I’m scared.”“Don’t be. You are safe.” He traces odd patterns against the glass. “The fever claimed you and you’d gone.” The truth hits her. “I am dead.” She looks down at her hands. They are too white. “Why am I still here?” Anger shoots though her, and she hits the glass again. “Why am I still here?” Jaehaera wills him to give her answers.“I cannot let go,” Aegon confesses after a moment of silence. “This is the only way, Jaehaera.” There is something so utterly raw about the way his eyes look at her then that Jaehaera is tempted to forgive him this violation of heavenly and earthly laws. But she knows it is wrong and even the fiercest love won’t wash that away.“Let me go,” she tells him, steeling her heart against the pain. “What you are doing, husband, ‘tis wrong. I am no longer of the living.” She has heard that spirits may be trapped in a looking glass, but she never thought she would ever be one of them. “Release me.”“Never.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Jaehaera absolutely refuses to be the one to tell her aunt that the particular shade of puce she has selected for her gown makes her look like an overstuffed pastry. She bites her lip just in case her carefully wrought mask threatens to slip. Aunt Rhaenyra should be watching her but she is distracted by a good-looking Marbrand who is in desperate need of her opinion on the weather or some such scintillating subject. How rousing. Jaehaera feels positively faint. Jacaerys lurks somewhere in the shadows, no doubt making eyes at the pretty young Hightower girl his mother has forbidden him to speak to. Normally, she would help her hapless cousin, but the fact that he is married falls as a convenient barrier. After all, she cannot encourage a member of her close family into sinning.A hand touched her elbow gently. Jaehaera turns her head slightly to look at Viserys. He hands her the punch glass with a wolfish grin and she intend to ask if he has managed to spike the normally inoffensive drink. Again. This would be – Jaehaera pauses to do a mental count – the fifth time. “Planning anything nefarious?” she asks him instead. She has no desire to be too obvious.“I would never,” he replies, affecting a hurt mien. They both know he is lying. “But I think the Velaryon chit is.” He nods towards Daenaera Velaryon throwing what one might term as sickly sweet glances towards Aegon who is ignoring her for the much more interesting conversation of Captain Alyn Velaryon. ”You should save him.”“He hardly looks in any danger to me.” She takes a sip if her punch. “It is I in need of saving.”“Then go make him save you.” Viserys doesn’t even have the good grace to wait for her answer before he pulls her hand in of his arm and leads her towards the conversing duo with the addition of Miss Velaryon. “Brother!” Viserys greets Aegon first. “Captain Velaryon, Miss Velaryon.”“Cousin, Captain Velaryon, Miss Velaryon,” Jaehaera echoes. She desperately wants to stage some mishap that will free her from Aegon’s burning stare, and the memory of that one – accidental – kiss. Daenaera is clearly displeased to see her, but the Captain sweeps her a bow and gives her a wide boyish grin that makes him look a decade younger than what she knows his age to be. “Miss Targaryen, how do you do?”“I am well, Captain, thank you. And yourself?” she questions, willing Aegon to look away. “I trust you’ve had a good crossing from Dorne.”As the Captain regales them with takes of his life at sea, Viserys draws Daenaera away for a dance and Jaehaera throws him a subtle glare. That traitor. What is even worse is that the scoundrel had all of this planned out. Unfortunately, she is now left to fend for herself. Captain Velaryon is too caught up in his story to notice the look that passes between Aegon and herself and she is too well bred to walk away in the middle of a conversation.A chill spears down her spine at the promise she sees in her cousin’s eyes. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The heroine of the novel is once again dangling from some perilous angle at the end of the chapter. Jaehaera lifts her eyes from the page to give a mournful glance at whoever has passed the threshold and beg them to end her misery. One more page of the adventures of Miss Crosgrave and she will re-enact cousin Joffrey’s actions from last evening. She suspects that casting her accounts on her aunt’s new carpet won’t contribute anything positive to the already deplorable image Rhaenyra Targaryen has of her niece.But, as she meets the eyes of yet another of Rhaenyra’s sons, Jaehaera hastily changes her previous thought. If she would survive ruining her aunt’s carpets, she will definitely be treated to the guillotine if she ruins her son. So she stands to her feet and attempt to employ her blandest mask. “Cousin,” she greets Aegon who is approaching her as if she were a weary beast. He is half right.Keeping her gaze on his face as she is, Jaehaera fails to notice his hand coming up to her shoulder. He catches her before she can even think to run. “My name is Aegon.” He says the words deliberately slow as if she were a slow child in need of patience. Her eyes narrow at him. “Do try using it, Jaehaera.”A stiff smile makes its way to her lips. She tries to subtly slip out of his grasp. He won’t give way. “Cousin Aegon,” Jaehaera protests softly, “you ought not to hold my path.”The only thing she earns herself is a flashing warning in his eyes and then his lips are careering into hers. The soft muslin of her morning gown becomes constrictive in such a sudden manner that Jaehaera wonders if maybe a charm has been cast upon her. Aegon makes no move to release her anytime soon. In fact, his other arm has locked around her waist and he pulls her into him.She yields, not because she might do so and not for lack of wits, but because there is something comforting in the way he draws himself around her, the tall frame of her cousin hunching over her in an almost protective manner. Perhaps he doesn’t mean it and it is just her mind at play, but she swears he is trying to convince her he is harmless. At least when it comes to her. Aegon is quite tall, a trait he has from both his parents. Jaehaera is small, tiny even, and she feels it even more acutely when this particular man has his arms around her. She feels much like a ragdoll in his strong embrace. But he handles her with such care that she knows he wouldn’t purposefully harm her. And yet it frightens her, the distinct maleness so close to her. Jaehaera fears she’ll break from the tension in her every muscle whenever he touches her.The most shocking moment is when his tongue finally manages to find its way to hers. The touch is electrifying. Jaehaera has to pull away.“We cannot do this,” she murmurs, lips red and swollen. Her aunt will kill her. “You cannot do this.”But apparently he can, because Aegon’s fingers press at the nape of her neck and his lips touch hers softly. He does not move for one full heartbeat which to Jaehaera feels like a lifetime. The urge to press harder against him slams into her like a storm into spread sails. He must have felt the change. He always does. In the next moment she is a prisoner of his kiss again. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “You have taken leave of your senses,” Jaehaera hisses through clenched teeth. She would speak louder but she fears that someone might hear. While she does think that indeed her cousin is no longer in possessions of his wits, she won’t the one to bring the whole house upon them. “You might put me down,” she grumbles as Aegon carries her down the steps as if she were a sack of flour.Her cousin is much too preoccupied with the best way to avoid breaking both their necks. Jaehaera sees the wisdom in allowing him his calculations. There is not a sliver of her that wishes to haunt aunt Rhaenyra’s indiscriminately decorated mansion. The true nightmare would be forever being attached to the billowing pink curtains in the drawing room. Jaehaera cannot help shuddering lightly.When she is deposited in the carriage, Jaehaera knows the danger is past. She may freely inspect the mental health of her cousin. “If there is anything resembling intelligence left in there,” she pints to his head, “you will turn this carriage right around.”Aegon simply smiles at her, a thin stretch of lips. “It would only serve to make everything more difficult. I would need a special license and I confess I am ill equipped to wait much longer.” This is one of those plans that either strikes one as romantic or plain stupid. Jaehaera is not sure what to say. “You might as well make yourself comfortable.”“You do realise that when aunt Rhaenyra wakes up on the morrow and sees both of us gone, she’ll be furious, don’t you?” She eyes him with a modicum of despair when his only reaction is to grin. There are times when she thinks that Aegon is not at all disheartened at the prospect of giving his mother gray hairs. Worry snakes into her heart when she finds that her own heart is in perfect agreement.“Speechless, are you?” Aegon teases when Jaehaera fails to make any more observations as pertaining to his flagrantly foolish behaviour. “Does that mean you won’t be trying to convince me to return?” His fingers twine around hers, his hand warm and strong. The shudder that makes its way down her back this time is different from the previous one.“This marriage you aspire to,” she starts, “will not please your mother.” In fact, Jaehaera is sure that when aunt Rhaenyra understands exactly what is going on, she will insist upon an annulment. Jaehaera knows she is not what her aunt desires in Aegon’s spouse. “Not to worry,” he breathes lightly against her ear. “I have no intention of pleasing my mother in this.” His arm slips around her, pulling her into his side. Jaehaera is thankful for the warmth and not at all on her guard. It makes sense that he would take the advantage. Aegon seals her fate with a simple kiss. “I wish you wouldn’t worry over what my mother wants or not. You will be my wife regardless.”How very comforting. Jaehaera decides to give him her trust for now. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Jaehaera fumbles with the tie of her dress. Her stomach roils in protest. Her hands shake, her skin is clammy. She doesn’t relish the helping hands that come to her aid. In fact she wishes she could push them all away. She wants to beg them to stop touching her, to stop straightening the collar of her gown, to no longer pull on her cuffs.This is always the case whenever her husband holds court and wishes for her presence. Jaehaera is forever wondering if he might lop of her head finally and find himself another wife. The urge to weep and cry out for mercy rears its ugly head. Her cowardice is a punch to the stomach. She is a dragon. She does not beg for mercy.Her knees are weak and she mist force her feet to take small, listless steps. Maegor’s Holdfast remains behind her as she is led into the throne room. One of these days she is sure the King will demand her head, or ask to have their marriage annulled or anything really to be rid of her. Jaehaera lives with this constant fear. She has learned to breathe with it, and smile and appear without a care for all the world.Her pretence is so real, so very carefully constructed that the Seven themselves couldn’t call her anything but content if they could not see within her heart. She just wants to be able to breathe again without the weight of the world pressing her down, crushing her underneath a mountain of worries. “Her Majesty, the Queen!” The cry rings out as she steps inside the cavernous hall. Jaehaera keeps her eyes on the throne, on the man sitting it. She silently begs whoever there is that can help her to give her the strength to pull through today. Stern-faced and grim as is his way, Aegon fixes her with a cool stare. The calm façade Jaehaera had worked to hard to cultivate cracks for a moment, revealing the vulnerable woman that hides behind it. She pulls her mask bask together to the best of her abilities. All around her the courtiers whisper. She can hear them but is unable to make out their words. The problem with King’s Landing is that everyone else knows everything before her. Jaehaera sometimes wishes she would be told before everyone else. A powerless queen is not worth much.Fear grips her throat tightly, wrapping invisible fingers around the slender column of her neck. Aegon stands to his feet and terror mounts up inside of her. Jaehaera fights to keep her calm as the King walks down the narrow steps. At a long last there is silence in the hall, as if all the courtiers hold their breath collectively. Aegon takes her hand with a small nod of greeting. He turns them both to face the crowd. “This day is a joyous occasion, my lords and ladies. This day is the Queen’s nameday.”The courtiers bow and wish her well in a loud chorus. For the time being Jaehaera can breathe. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It’s a rush of words. Aegon is petrified, just for a moment – because this should have never happened, because this was not supposed to happen – because once again he is powerless. They gave him a crown and a king’s chair and for a short while he dared hope it might change everything.Instead all that it achieves is another loss.“The Queen, Your Majesty,” his Hand tells him, “is dead.” He can see it in the man’s eyes. He knows why even before they tell him how. Oh, she was hurting. She was sad and lonely – but she had smiled softly, secretly at the little blooms on the cherry tree. Aegon knows it hadn’t been all in his head. Her eyes had expressed a moment of joy, standing there with him in the warm light of the sun. She had promised – “We should enjoy the cherries when they finally come,” she’d said, in her usual quiet voice – or so Aegon would have liked to believe.He demands to see her – one last time, to wish her safe on her last journey. Sombre faces try to convey sadness – a tragedy, truly, nay, a disaster – but Aegon is well aware that the truth crawling beneath their veneers is poison. The harsh winds of winter have picked up. Is it too late? Perhaps this is all part of a night terror. The boy-king half expects to see his mother’s blackened corpse standing before him. But all there is, is a pool of blood and small fingers curled around a gold ring – the same ring Aegon had allowed Jaehaera to have, one belonging to her late mother.“She was melancholy, Your Grace.” The comment strikes him as odd. Jaehaera was determined. Aye, she’d been angered, remorseful at the loss of her loved ones, and she had doubtlessly suffered knowing she would never see them again. But so does he. And now there is someone else he won’t ever see again.This is the last time. Aegon’s fingers tighten in a fist and his face grows pale as they turn her around gingerly, as if she could feel anything. Half her face is covered in dried blood. It is her eyes, though, that twist a knife in his heart. They are wide open – so odd, so like Jaehaera. The expression is resigned.This is not right. Fury prickles at the nape of his neck, but Aegon knows that it is useless. He kneels by her but doesn’t dare touch her. From the darkened skies snow trickles down. The cherry tree has frozen in the gardens and his heart hides behind a wall of ice. He hopes that wherever she is, she understands his position when he endorses the tale of her jumping to her death. “Come, Your Majesty, we must away.” The cold is biting by this point and Aegon hopes it sinks its sharp fangs into all these people that are trying to take away the very last ray of sunshine.Winter has come. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- During the last few days, it's blood on handkerchiefs and a constant ache deep within his chest. Aegon knows what this means. He prays that it will be quick. And then he wonders why he'd asking of the gods. They have been conveniently deaf to every plea that has ever left his lips. The pain twists and turns inside of him, a barbed lash tearing him apart from within.No sunlight streams through the windows. The curtains have been drawn tightly shut. The light hurts his eyes. It reminds him that despite everything that has passed the world goes on, uncaring, unsympathetic. Ghosts have been visiting him of late. The first one scared him enough to make him believe that he'd died. It had been one of his older brothers. His eyes couldn't make out which brother though. It might have been Luke. The footsteps sounded like they belonged to Luke.His mother had come too, brushing back hid damp hair. He had missed her. Aegon would have wanted to tell her so many things. But the words wouldn't come. She had vanished into this air almost as soon as she had appeared. The pain it produced was dull. He shall see her again soon. The certainty is soothing.The King hadn't realised that so many souls would make a point of coming by his sickbed. These were all people he had known at one point or another. They are all dust by now, all of them nothing but a memory. His memory.The last to come is a little girl. This one Aegon cannot mistake. She looks at him with sad, sad eyes. Her hand touched his, small fingers splayed on the unhealthily plea skin. Blood seems to rush with more force within him. Her lips part as if to speak and the King finds himself straining to catch every last word.But there is nothing.Daenaera pulls her daughter back. "What are you doing in here?" the mother asks in a harsh voice. There are deep lines around her eyes and mouth. She looks so old and so full of grief in the semi-darkness of father's bedchamber. "You should not be here.""I merely wanted to see His Majesty," comes the meek reply. Never has she or any of her siblings been allowed to call him father. She cannot say why she should care for the pain of this man who has been distant and cold towards them all their life. Aegon Targaryen might as well have died long before any of his children were born.She knows the truth and perhaps that it the worst. Daena doesn't care and Elaena won't step into the room simply because Daena won't hold her hand and guide her in. None of Rhaena's cajoling works. The oldest of her sisters is her mother's daughter in every aspect, and not unlike their queenly mother, there is a deep rooted hate for their father within her breast. Elaena, of course, follows blindly, as she is wont to do.But for Rhaena, this man is still her father. Despite his misgivings – and those are many to be sure – he is her father as much as the Queen is her mother. Nothing can wash that away, not her mother's displeasure, nor her sisters' indifference."Never come here again," Daenaera speaks, while pulling Rhaena after her.Looking over her shoulder, she can see that her father is holding out his hand.And that is when, in defiance of her mother, she breaks free and runs back to the ill King. Her fingers wrap around his hand."Jaehaera." His voice is thin and quiet. Who is Jaehaera, Rhaena wonders.Yet her mother pulls her away once more. "Don't listen to him, my sweet. The Gods have taken his mind." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- In the gardens there is a maze. In the maze there is a statue. The statue is of a young woman. She is not tall, nor does her form impress by its voluptuous curves. She is dainty – fragile even – and young. Whoever carved this Galateaian figure was not thinking of a lover. The mouth is full, but it does not smile. Her eyes are wide open and her robes cover her fully.Why this statue should fascinate him so, Aegon doesn’t know. But she pierced him with cold marble eyes and her small outstretched hands reach towards him, as if preparing to engulf him in her cool embrace. One of her arms is naked, the sleeve of her pristine robe flowing down in a frozen river. Aegon touches his hand to the lifeless stone. A deep ache splits his hear open and he manages only a shuddering breath before he pulls away.He bends down at her feet and tries to read what has been carved in stone, in High Valyrian. He cannot make out much. Her name has been crossed out, but she died young, the poor girl to whom they raised this statue. She had been a child of ten. She had been a beloved Queen. His eyesight blurs and Aegon stands up, looking at the statue’s face. Clearly, whoever made this did not take into account the girl’s age. But it is still beautiful, in its own simple way.“Daddy!” Rhaena cries from behind him, stumbling over a rock. Aegon barely has time to stop her fall. The girl grins at him and holds up a wreath of flowers. “Mommy says we should head back. But I wanted to give the lady this.” His daughter refers to the statue as ‘the lady’. “I think she’ll like it. She likes poppies and rainflowers, so I made her this.”Aegon takes the offering gingerly and steps on the statue’s pedestal. He crowns ‘the lady’. “It looks good on her.”Rhaena claps her hands. “Now you are her gallant night, daddy.”They leave together, hand in hand, the father and daughter. And behind the tall willow a pale little girl with silver hair and tearful eyes watches them. There is a smile on her face and the asphodels in her hand are in full bloom. She hopes that this time life will be kinder. She hopes that his sorrow will be assuaged and forgotten. She hopes that he is happy and she hopes that when next they meet in the halls of nevermore he won’t be carrying rue anymore.Feet ghosting over the tall grass, she bend down and wipes the dust away from the golden plaque on which a name is written. She mouths the words. They feel right. In her mind they even sound right. Jaehaera Taragreyn. Beloved daughter. Beloved sister. Beloved wife. Beloved Queen. Dead at only ten of age. Jaehaera Targaryen the broken queen of a Broken King. Jaehaera with no crown. Jaehaera with no children. Jaehaera, simply Jaehaera, who had died and left nothing of her likeness behind, except a statue that is not her. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- When they come back to King’s Landing, it’s lavish interiors and extravagant balls and every opponent of the Lannister rule saying they had known the rightful King would return. Lyanna had been young when the revolution took place. She had been a girl, barely flowered when the king fell upon one of his kinsguard’s sword and died.Jaime Lannister is swinging at the end of a rope even now, his corpse rotting in the street. His father’s grave has been dug out and Tywin Lannister, Protector of the Realm, rots along with his son. Two lions in the sun. Rhaegar Targaryen sits his father’s throne and vengeance is an old friend. Lyanna’s own father had supported the Old Lion and she wondered if she too will hang. The noose would rip through her skin she is sure, but she will choke anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.They had been summoned to come before the King in a manner befitting those of old blood. She is grateful for it. To be brought to court in chains would be ruinous. Brandon already chafes at the King’s summoning of them. He tells Lyanna that she should fear nothing. They had not been involved with their father’s business. Lyanna knows better. The King may do as he wishes.Surprisingly though, the King greets them warmly. He makes a grand display of forgiving everyone involved with the Lannister rebellion and they make merry all through the night. For a man who has been exiled, shamed and humiliated, the King is an extremely charming fellow. It must be the manner of the Old Continent. He dances and drinks, and Lyanna feels desperation behind his bright smile and laughing eyes.What prompts her to open her arms to him? She cannot really say. Perhaps it’s because he is a wounded animal and she never makes light of the misfortunes of others. That and the fact that she has the soft heart of a woman. At first it is a few dances, a hand sliding just a fraction lower than allowed. Then it is stolen kisses. Short and sweet, pecks on the lips. They evolve into consuming, skilled clashes of skin and teeth and tongues. After that it is dishevelled clothing and intimate touches and flushed cheeks. It’s ripped silk and whispered promises and the authority of a monarch. It’s dangerous and sensual and more than Lyanna would have attributed to it.In the end, it’s naked skin against bared flesh, damp and salty. It’s aching muscles and blood-stained sheets. It’s the death of Lyanna Stark. She becomes someone else, someone who depends on mercurial moods and half smiles. She becomes the secret that everyone knows. She is wrapped in costly cloth and showered in jewellery, but she is still the subject that everyone avoids when she is in the room. Yet as soon as the doors close the rumour mill starts turning. When they come back to King’s Landing, little does Lyanna imagine what the future has in store for her. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The slap cracks across unfeeling skin, the insult behind the gesture meant to sting. Lyanna looks at the other woman with tranquil eyes. Elia is shaking like a leaf, anger painting her delicate features. "How dare you stand before me?" Her black eyes spark with hatred. This is the loss of her children, the shame she has endured in her own home. "Cursed be the day my eyes landed on you.""No doubt it already is," Lyanna replies, her smile nothing less than feral.Elia grimaces at this response, her hands balling into fists. "You have taken everything from me!" she cries out. The recrimination shoots from her lips like a sword. But it still misses its target. Lyanna Stark merely acknowledges the accusation with a small nod. She further derides Elia by glancing at their host, impatience in her grey eyes."I have no apology to offer," she speaks, her gaze still on the Stranger. There is a fiendish gleam in her eyes. "What am I but a mere speck of dust? If it please Your Grace." And she lowers herself on her knees, all the way down, her skirts crushed. But then her insolent smile returns and the blood boils in Elia's veins. "I did what I thought best. And I accept whatever judgement you wish to pass upon me. But I will not beg forgiveness for my conscience asks it not of me."The she-wolf stands to her feet and the Stranger touches her arm, wrapping skeletal fingers around it. "Enough.""Enough," Lyanna agrees.And Elia is left to wonder how in the seven hells this creature has managed to bleed her dry. But the ruler of the realm has spoken and here King is the Stranger. Crowned heads bow before him, for his is the power. So Elia must hold her tongue again."Your children await you," the Stranger speaks. A door opens and the sweet laughter of a girl reaches Elia's ears. "It is time for the dead to take their rightful place."For Elia may have won back her children, but Lyanna has won something else. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Tears run down his face as the knife sinks into the cold flesh of his sweet sister. But Lyanna is unfeeling. And he has made his promises to her. The eyes forever closed, her minutely upturned lips, she looks at peace. It is not right that it should be so. But the Stranger's hand has touched her loving heart the moment she heard that song.Promise me, Ned…and so he does. He wishes he could ignore her words. He does. From a dark corner the babe cries as the blade parts skin and muscle. His wails grow shrill as the heart leaves its ephemeral cage. Never reveal to anyone this last wish of mine. Having liberated the tender thing, Ned wraps it in white cloth, the remnants of a white cloak.Reed had taken the babe, rocking the child gently. But the crying won't stop. It grows louder and louder still as the burns in the small fire. When the last of it is gone, Ned gathers the dust in a pouch and hides it close to his own heart. The child no longer weeps.Take me home, brother mine. All of me, but my heart. It has found a new home. Please. Promise me, Ned.And when he passes through King's Landing he will visit the grave of the fallen prince.Rhaegar Targaryen has lost the war. Rhaegar Targaryen has lost his life. But Rhaegar Targaryen will forever have Lyanna Stark's heart. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- After the shock of pain there is only silence. Viserys feels something blessedly cool touch the back of his head and cannot help releasing a sigh. This brings memories from his childhood when he used to sit on his mother’s lap and she would brush his hair with a pretty gold comb encrusted with jewels. “Viserys, my sweet, it is time to wake up,” a kind voice whispers in his ears, faintly familiar and slightly hushed. “Come, open your eyes, my love. It is I, your mother.”Sluggishly, light violet eyes open, disbelief mirroring in those shining pools. “Mother?” His throat constricts as the image of Rhaella Targaryen forms before his eyes. She looks exactly like she did in those happier days of his childhood. “Mother.”She holds her arms open for him, the invitation clear in her gaze. He feels like a little boy when she clutches him to her chest, whispering sweetly that she had missed him. “I have been waiting.” She brushes a wayward curls out of his face. “Let me look at you.”It’s the abundant love in her voice that cracks the last vestige of his control and Viserys is flooded by shame. So deep and abiding is this feeling that he must step back and cover his face. “I-“ he begins, unsure of what to say.“I know,” Rhaella says, mere moments later. “I am your mother.” This time her voice is stronger, a hint of steel hiding beneath her words. “You are my son. Whatever else you may have become, you are my flesh and blood. And I could no more loathe you than I could cut my own heart out.”Stunned, Viserys looks at her with round eyes. He wants to speak, but the words refuse to come. He wants to at least tell her that he loves her for loving him, undeserving as he is of her affection. Rhaella’s expression softens. She takes her son’s hand in hers.“A mother will never stop loving her children. She may occasionally be disappointed in their choices. She may be angry at their mischief. And sometimes she does not understand them. But her children will always have a special place in her heart.” She smiles benevolently upon her son. Something crashes against his leg and Viserys looks down, instinctively tensing. A small round face peers up at him, shining black eyes holding hope. It takes no more than a few moments to recall the name that goes along with the face. “Rhaenys.”His niece gives him a wide smile. She hugs his leg tighter and turns her head around. “He looks like father!” she yells to a woman who is rocking a babe. Viserys nods towards the gently smiling Elia Martell. But Rhaenys is already pulling on his sleeve, demanding his attention. “Play with me, uncle Viserys.”Rhaella is laughing lightly. “Oh, do. Play with us Viserys. What shall we play?” his mother asks, bending over slightly. “Perhaps a game of tag.”“Uncle Viserys should choose,” Rhaenys decides rather loudly. Two pairs of eyes turn towards Viserys, one amused and the other excited.A light feeling settles in his chest. This is when Viserys knows that he can leave behind whatever was and no longer is.
1082319	Like a scar the hurt	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Melinda May, Phil Coulson", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by stellarwobble", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-12-14T00:00:00", "words": "2,133", "Additional Tags": "Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Break Up, Sad", "Relationship": "Phil Coulson/Melinda May", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "A Lump of Coul: Phil Coulson Fan Work Exchange", "Fandoms": "Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Phil looks down as Melinda tightens the tourniquet around his thigh, and feels mostly a vague surprise that it doesn't hurt more. He can feel something digging uncomfortably into his back, as he's slumped against the wall, and he feels cold (of course it's cold, Latveria has it in for him), but his leg just feels kind of heavy and warm. It won't last, he knows that. Being shot in the leg is actually a new experience for him, but he's had enough similar injuries over the years that he reconizes the effects of the first adrenaline rush. Melinda tucks her hair behind her ear and prods at the bandage. She's so beautiful, he realizes and judging by the quick snort and eye-roll she directs at him he probably said that out loud, crap. "Can you walk?" she asks, stepping over to check the window. They'll be found soon. "Sure," Phil says. Melinda comes to stand in front of him, one eyebrow raised. Getting up is excruciating, and he ends up just sort of leaning onto Melinda for a moment. They stand like that, swaying slightly, and his breaths sound harsh and loud in the cramped room. "It's gonna be ok," Melinda whispers against his temple. "We'll be ok." "Yeah," he says, gathering his strength to turn so Melinda can slip under his arm to support him. "Of course." He'd still be happier if she went to the extraction point alone, but he's not bringing that up again, Melinda didn't take that suggestion so well. -- Prepairing mission briefs is a vital part of ops and a very reasonable use of Phil's skills during his enforced downtime after the leg wound. It can also be mind-numbingly boring, which is why Phil's currently resting his eyes a little and calculating the odds that taking his crankiness out on Nick could get him back in the field faster. He doesn't hear the door open, and is only startled out of his contemplations when a balled-up paper hits him on the nose. He lets out an undignified and inarticulate noise as he bats at it. Melinda is leaning against his doorway, not laughing, but close. "Looking sharp, there, agent Coulson," she says. She looks sharp, of course, even though her clothes are mud-streaked. She must have come to see him straight after her mission. "You up for some sparring?" she says. Phil shuts his laptop with a snap. "Thought you'd never ask." -- "So, uh, I was thinking," Phil says as he's gathering his things, reaching for his sweatshirt with his left hand, because Melinda did something to his right shoulder (he's gonna have to remember to ask her to show him next time, it was awesome). "That, uh, maybe, if you wanted to, I mean - Melinda moves in quick enough that he can feel himself tense up, but her hand on his cheek is gentle as she leans in to kiss him. It's over far too quickly and Phil can feel himself blink stupidly, but she just smiles, her hand resting on his neck. "C'mon, let's go get something to eat." she says, jerking her head towards the door of the gym. "Yeah, I," he nearly trips over his feet following her, watching her smile turn teasing as she walks backwards, just out of his reach, and that's all wrong because he needs to kiss her a lot more, right now. "That's what I was going to - He catches up with her by the door, and while he's still trying to work out how to do this a little smoother (he can be smooth, shut up, Nick), Melinda easily turns him with his back towards the door and gets her hand under his t-shirt. "I know exactly what you were gonna say," she says after she's finished kissing him and her smile changes a bit, becomes a little softer. They draw some looks going through the corridors of HQ. Agent May, as usual the picture of focus and composure, and trailing two steps behind, a ruffled agent Coulson struggling to get his sweatshirt on. -- They get cheeseburgers, and through some miracle Phil regains the use of his faculties and doesn't spend the entire meal babbling or staring like a creep. They always got on well, and it's kind of a relief that they can have fun like this, just being themselves. (Well, mostly. There are civillians within earshot, after all.) They talk hockey, which is something he's never really got into, but Melinda loves, and she uses the table settings to explain the red line offside-rule, gesturing and smiling and he just enjoys seeing her like this and learns nothing about hockey. He's actually convinced himself that nothing's going to come of this, that Melinda just wanted dinner and company. Clearly, the whole kissing thing was a fluke, and not something he can count on being repeated. This line of thinking lasts untill they have split the bill, when Melinda reaches over the table to take his hand. "Come home with me?" she says, her fingers circling his wrist. "Sure," he says, and the way she smiles in answer, Phil has to look down at their hands because it's suddenly verging on too much. He twists his hand so he can hold hers, rubs his thumb back and forth over her pulse point. When he looks up, Melinda is looking at him calmly, and he just nods but it takes him a moment before he's able to let go of her hand. -- Over the years, Phil has gradually let go of his expectations of finding much of a life outside work. There was no turning point, it's just that, deep down, he's still pretty much the same serious kid who went into the army wanting to make a difference, and then into SHIELD. If anything, Melinda is even worse. They were in the same rookie training course, and so far they've buried four of their group and seen two more go MIA. You quickly learn not to ask for the odds. They manage to find some moments inbetween, just for them. Getting out of HQ for dinner, sometimes even cooking together. Waking up slowly, without alarms going off before dawn a couple of times. Some late nights cuddling (and bickering) in front of the TV. He contemplates asking for more, but something holds him back. -- It's only four days after Melinda gets back from Bahrain that Phil gets permission from medical to take her home. She has a broken arm, but not a lot of physical injuries otherwise. He waits. Cooks meals she doesn't touch, helps her wash her hair. Sits in the waiting room reading interior decorating magazines while Melinda's at her counselling sessions. Melinda sleeps very little, and the doctors are worried. Phil's worried, too. When she tries to sleep, she'll curl up on her side, hands fisted in the blanket under her chin. It's just a small thing, but it's painful to see her like this, so different from the Melinda who could sleep anywhere, anytime, and who would sprawl all over the bed (and over him), given the chance. He doesn't tell her 'I love you', these days. Not because it's any less true now than before, but because he's afraid it won't matter. It just seems like something that might make her feel worse. He nearly drives himself crazy trying to remember the last time he said it. Was it one of the nights they made dinner together, or in bed, before falling asleep? Had she been the last to say it, like she did before other assignments, stopping by his office to say goodbye? All the little things he gathered during their time together are now like bruises he keeps pressing on. He won't admit to himself that it could be over, but he keeps thinking back, again and again. Melinda smiling sleepily in the morning, watching a game and yelling at the referee, wearing one of his shirts. They hurt him now, all those little memories, and somehow that's good, that means he will have something left. -- It's early in the morning when she leaves. Phil's nodded off a couple of hours, and wakes abruptly when Melinda sits on the edge of the bed. He's wide awake at once, taking in that Melinda is dressed, her duffle bag on the floor beside her. The pain makes it feel like his chest is hollow. "I have to go," she says, and his fear must be plain on his face, because she adds, "Just to HQ, don't worry. I won't -" She shakes her head and is silent, reaching up to touch his cheek, then leans down to touch her forehead against his. It's the closest they've been in a long time. He tells her he loves her, now that he has nothing to lose, but she just smiles sadly and then she's gone. -- "And agent May," Phil adds. For a while, Nick just looks at him, like he's trying to figure something out. Phil suddenly feels like squirming, even though it's a perfectly reasonable request. He's getting a plane, an awesome one at that, and Melinda is a pilot. Nothing strange about it. "Phil," Nick starts, and now there's a look of pity about him. "I'd like to request agent May for my team, sir," Phil says, talking over Nick, because he's been dead, a little, and he's tired of being reasonable. Nick holds up his palm and tries to look placating. It's not a look that comes easy to him. "Alright," he says, "if you think it'll work - the two of you." Phil tries to project an air of assuredness he doesn't feel, and that Nick will see through immediately. "We'll work it out," he says. "I'm sure of it." -- It's late, again, and he can't sleep, again. He'd thought it would be easier, here on the bus, with the constant hum of the engines, but it's the same as it was on the ground. First, the thoghts keep chasing each other, and when sleep does come, it brings strange dreams that leave uneasiness in their wake. He's in front of the mirror, trying to quiet the thoughts, the voice inside that keeps asking what happened, what am I when there's a soft knock on the door and Melinda enters without waiting for a reply. "Can't sleep?" she asks. Her eyes don't give him any room to deny it. "Just a little wired," he says, trying for a smile to make light of it. It feels wrong on his face, and Melinda does not look convinced at all. She crosses the room to sit on his bed and pats the space beside her. He shuffles over and sits down. He's imagined this, Melinda seeking him out, getting the chance to talk to her alone, without interruptions. He imagined making things right between them, not necessarily getting back together, just kind of closing the distance. Now he feels mostly apprehensive, he was never good at hiding things from her and right now, he's afraid to voice his thoughts out loud. She doesn't say anything, just puts her hand on his shoulder and waits. "It's nothing, really," he says, "Just, it's stupid, but I can't stop thinking about it. I mean, I don't remember anything and I think I should, you know?" To his horror, he hears his voice break and just thinking about it makes his heart pound, just like after he wakes from a nightmare.Melinda tugs at him until he's facing her, still not saying anything. "What if I'm not me," he blurts out, and there, he's said it. Melinda leans forward to touch her forehead against his. The gesture brings him back and he feels his eyes grow hot. He's lost so much and he's tired of it. "You forget I know you," she says after a long while. "You need to trust me on this, be glad you're alive. I'm glad you're still here to talk me into these stupid things. Leave it at that and move on." She draws back to look him in the eyes and Phil just nods, not trusting his voice. "Alright. Now, will you sleep if I stay here?." "Sure," he says. "But, uh, you don't have to. Really, I'm fine." Melinda just snorts at him, and he has to smile, he's missed that so much. When he lies down, Melinda gets into bed beside him. Part of him wants to ask what it means, but mostly he's grateful. He'll take this for what it is, a friend helping him, and for once not worry about tomorrow. "Close your eyes," Melinda orders him. She rests her hand on top of his scar and he brings his hand up to rest on hers. End
1009236	Captive	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers, Thor (Marvel), Thor, Phil Coulson, Avengers - Character, Avengers Team", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by f_romanoff_13", "chapters": "18/?", "completed": "", "published": "2013-10-18T00:00:00", "words": "7,847", "Additional Tags": "Captive, Kidnapped, Torture, Villains, Avengers - Freeform, Teambuilding, Violence, Injury, hostage, information, Saccrifice, Danger, Hurt, Dark, Lots of torture", "Relationship": "Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types", "Archive Warnings": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	The Avengers latest mission was, quite frankly, a disaster. They’d entered the warehouse in the midst of an argument; Tony and Steve were disagreeing about the tactics of the mission, Clint and Natasha weren't speaking to each other after they’d had a row that morning, and Bruce was fed up with how childish everyone was being; he’d had very little sleep and couldn't put up with this much longer. Thor was pretty oblivious to everything.Coulson had guided them through a maze of underground tunnel systems, alley ways and abandoned warehouses before his comm unit went silent, leaving them blind and worried about their handler.Clint wanted to go back to check he was okay, Steve insisted they stay and see the mission through; the others took sides and it ended up three vs three. That was the last thing any of them remembered before waking up; stripped of all weaponry (and Tony of his suit), all six of them had their wrists bound by chains attached to the ceiling; which wasn't so bad if you were Thor or Steve, being tall still gave them some range of motion, however it left Natasha balancing on the tips of her toes to take a bit of weight off the cuffs cutting into her wrists. They're held in a large room, probably underground judging by how cold and damp it was; stood in a circle facing one another. The arguing started again not long after they regained consciousness; Tony’s ‘I told you so’ attitude really grinded on Steve, who then pulled rank, much to the displeasure of Clint. Natasha was still annoyed at Clint and the blood running down her arms accompanied by an increasing feeling of numbness in her hands was making her even more irritable. “Guys... I really need you to just stop... STOP!” Bruce shouted, clenching his fists and shutting his eyes tightly. Instantly the other five members of the team stopped arguing and stared at their friend. If Bruce lost control and the other guy made an appearance it would not be good at this point; Natasha and Tony were stood either side of him and were far too close for comfort.Bruce’s breathing steadied and his hands relaxed, he opened his eyes slowly and nodded subtly to his team;“Can we just, not?”“Bruce is right, to get out of this we need to work as a team” Steve stated, it took all Tony’s strength not to roll his eyes or answer sarcastically, but for Bruce’s sake, as much as his own, he kept his resolve and silently nodded. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- A moment later; the heavy metal lock on the door in the far corner of the room (and the only entrance/exit) creaked open; in strode a tall, heavily built man. He had dark hair and a badly scarred face. Grey eyes starred at each of his captives, his thin lips turned up slightly at the sight of them. He slowly strolled to the centre of the room, pushed his way between Clint and Thor and turned to face Steve from the middle of the circle;“Welcome. I apologise now, for this will not be a pleasant experience for you”“What do you-“Before Steve could even finish his sentence, the man withdrew a gun and fired one shot through Clint’s thigh, without ever removing his gaze from Steve. Natasha’s eyes went wide at the abruptness of it. Thor struggled against his binds and Tony yelled in outrage. Clint’s leg gave out from under him and he struggled to remain balanced on just one.“Russian Roulette anyone?” the man smirked around at them, waving the gun around like a toy. “But how rude of me; I of course know who you all are, but you don’t know me now do you?”“No offence but I don’t really want to” Tony said without thinking; the man turned slowly and smirked at him. “Mr. Stark; my name is Gavrok, and you need to learn some manners” and with that, he lifted the gun and shot Steve in the calf while smiling malevolently at Tony, almost daring him to speak again.“WHAT THE HELL-““Do you wish me to continue?” Gavrok asked, lifting the gun and aiming it squarely at Natasha’s face. She didn’t finch, but rather stared at him defiantly despite the fact his eyes were still glued on Tony, the rest of the team however looked terrified. Tony shook his head, glancing apologetically at both Natasha and Steve. The team now silent, Gavrok jabbed a needle into both Clint’s and Steve’s necks, knocking them unconscious almost immediately, he released the cuffs which bound them and called in some men to remove them from the room. Smiling at the remaining four he flipped off the light and slammed the door shut. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- With no windows it was hard to keep track of the time. It could have been day or night; the team were none the wiser. Time passed slowly and painfully, Gavrok remained elusive, and they had no idea what had happened to Clint or Steve. Tony’s stomach groaned in protest to their lack of food, they were all dehydrated and exhausted. Somehow Thor managed to get some sleep; the others however had been awake for days.“What’s he waiting for?” Tony said, pulling at the chains above his head once more.“Who knows”“He’s one crazy son of a bitch!”“We can’t underestimate him. He may be crazy but he still got all six of us here”Suddenly the cuff’s holding Bruce in place released, freeing him. The other three looked at him in surprise. He stumbled a few steps back.. “Oh no”“Bruce what is it?”He rubbed at his wrist; “there was a needle in the cuffs, it just injected me with something”He shuffled backwards, into the corner of the room. Only Thor could see him properly now, Natasha and Tony both had their backs to him.“Bruce?” Natasha’s voice shook slightlyHis breathing became louder and more rapid, and suddenly he wasn’t Bruce anymore.The Hulk appeared, and not two seconds later; Gavrok reappeared, shooting several large tranquiliser darts at him. All four hit their target and brought him down. He transformed instantly back into Bruce and was dragged from the room.Gavrok remained, looking over the remaining three in the room. “I wonder... which of you it’ll be”“Tell us what you want of us” Thor asked. He was the only one still stood upright; Tony had started alternating supporting his weight off his feet to his wrists and back again, and Natasha was struggling; mostly resigning herself to hanging from her wrists. “I want some information from you, well, certain members of your team, but I intend to have some fun before I get it” he smirked, before turning to Tony and stabbing him with a long blade through his abdomen. Slowly he withdrew the blade and threw it to the floor.“I've always wondered” he began, turning back to face Thor, “What effects do bullets have on you?” He once again withdrew his gun and fired three shots. They had very little affect on the Asgardian, leaving nothing more than a few bruises. Gavrok tilted his head slightly in contemplation; “Hum, interesting...”Two men entered the room and left with Tony, Gavrok turned to follow them, pausing to look at Natasha for a second before slamming the door once again. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Natasha decided she’d had enough; mustering all her remaining strength she stood as tall as she could, on the very points of her toes, she reached up and grabbed the chains above her and pulled herself up. Lifting herself off the ground she managed to grab one of her hair grips before she fell painfully back to the floor. Thor gave her a quizzical look from across the room but chose not to question her actions. A few seconds later she’d managed to fashion a sort of lock pick out of her hair grip. Once again she reached up for the chains and lifted herself off the ground, in order to give herself enough manoeuvrability to reach the lock. A few minutes passed before the first cuff finally clicked open and Thor looked at her with renewed hope. While trying to free her remaining hand, her grip gave out, and she slipped and fell. Her right wrist snapped against the jarring force of the cuff, painfully breaking her wrist. She inhaled sharply to try to ignore the pain and prevent herself making any noise and alerting her captors. Gavrok opened the door once again, slowly entering the room with a smile on his face;“Miss Romanoff, I should have guessed...” He removed a syringe from his pocket, like the one he’d used on Clint and Steve and stuck it into Natasha’s neck; rendering her unconscious once again. “Tell me Gavrok, tell me what it is you want to know, I will tell you! Please, just let my teammates go”“Sadly you cannot provide the information I need, however gallant your intentions” Gavrok freed Natasha’s broken wrist and carried her from the room, locking the door and leaving Thor stood alone. A moment later the room began to fill with gas and the last thought Thor had before passing out was whether his teammates and friends were even still alive... ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Clint was pissed. He’d been locked in his cell for days. His thigh still bled; although the makeshift bandages he’d fashioned from material he’d ripped from his sleeves had stemmed it mostly. He was lucky Gavrok hadn’t hit his femoral artery. His hands were bound; cuffed once again although this time to the back wall. It allowed him to sit on the floor; which was good because he didn’t think he had the strength to stand any longer. Steve was in the cell to his right; he’d been quiet ever since the day they’d been thrown in the cells, saying very little other than offering the others the few scraps of bread Gavrok threw into the cells once a day; Clint didn’t think he’d seen Steve eat for days.Tony was in the cell to Clint’s left. Once again, like with Clint and Steve, no major arteries or anything important had been hit when he’d been attacked by Gavrok; it hurt like hell, but no major damage done. He wanted them all alive... For now. Steve and Tony, unlike Clint, were unbound. Clint hadn’t figured out why yet.He wondered what had happened to the others, what had happened to Tasha. If something happened to her, or to him, and he never got the chance to say he was sorry... Such a stupid disagreement, and that was the last thing they’d said to each other; shouting and yelling, followed by anger, frustration and an awkward silence. He’d seen it in her eyes; when Gavrok had shot him; complete and utter fear that'd they'd never get the chance at forgiveness. *Gavrok strolled down the corridor towards the cells, walking past Steve and Clint; he stopped and focused on Tony;“Good morning Mister Stark”“Is it?”“It’s time. Now you will give me your secret”“What secret?”“The secret to becoming Iron Man”“Ha! I don’t think so old man”“You are sure of your decision?”“Gee. Lemme think...”“Very well then; your friend will suffer for this”A pixelated image appeared on the old battered tv screen behind him; Clint and Steve both shuffled in their cells to get a better view; the screen showed Thor. He was suspended from the ceiling by his wrists; scientists milled around him; injecting him with various brightly coloured liquids. He was shaking and weakened, and even through the grainy image the team could tell he was not in good shape.Gavrok spoke through a communication device; “He refused”Suddenly electricity coursed through Thor’s body, leaving him thrashing and writhing in pain.“I hope you change your mind soon Mister Stark” Gavrok smiled at him, turned off the screen, and turned to leave.“Wait!” Clint called after him. Gavrok froze, turning to glare at the archer“Where’s Tasha? Please?” From the short video Clint had noticed she was no longer in the room they'd originally been held in. She'd still been there when Tony had been stabbed, but since she'd been taken elsewhere and it panicked Clint not knowing where she wasGavrok smiled, an evil and malevolent grin, before leaving once more. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It was another day until Gavrok appeared again. Strolling down the corridor to the cells slowly; he carried Natasha’s limp and battered body with him. Clint finally found the energy to fight against his restraints as he saw his partners condition. Steve looked up from where he sat slumped in the corner and Tony shifted in his cell, terrified this was more retribution of his refusal to cooperate. Tony had felt incredibly guilty since seeing Thor’s torment, Clint and Steve had assured him that under no circumstances could they let this guy have the secret to building an Iron Man suit; he'd done the right thing, no matter how terrible the consequences, but it did nothing to make Tony feel any better.Gavrok unlocked Clint’s cell and threw Natasha to the ground; she was broken, bloody and beaten; covered in bruises, lacerations and burns. Clint fought and fought, drawing blood from his wrists as he tried to get to her, but he couldn’t. He felt helpless and angry; furious with himself for allowing this to happen to the person he cared for most.“Perhaps when she wakes you can convince her to be less stubborn archer”Tony tore his gaze away from Natasha’s lifeless form, realising that this wasn’t all about Iron Man; that wasn’t the only piece of information he wanted from them. Natasha too had withheld information from Gavrok, and she'd suffered the consequences.“Or perhaps, you may have the information I require?” he gazed at Clint curiously, but Clint couldn’t take his eyes of Natasha, watching each tentative intake of breath, afraid they’d stop. “I want to know about her red room training. I want to know how to recreate it” Gavrok said, slowly and clearly.Clint finally looked up at him; “Go to hell!”Gavrok looked disappointed but hid it with a flash of anger. Slamming the cell shut he stormed from the room.He’d planned this from the beginning; Clint was bound to the back wall so he couldn’t reach her, she was unconscious and hurt and there was nothing he could do for her. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Natasha regained consciousness several hours later. She was concussed and in a lot of pain, using all her remaining energy she managed to drag herself over to Clint’s side. Neither of them spoke, neither did Tony or Steve; they were in a dire situation and they all knew it. They were completely trapped, Natasha was severely injured, and they had no idea where, or in what state Bruce and Thor were. Gavrok wanted information on how they became superheroes; he wanted the secret to becoming Iron Man, the history of Natasha’s training, he’d probably been questioning Bruce on his experiments which resulted in the Hulk too. Information they could not afford to give him, information which if withheld much long; would kill them.Clint didn’t sleep at all that night, he checked over Natasha’s injuries when she’d fallen asleep again; she had a broken wrist and several broken ribs, bruises covered her skin; shades of purple, black and blue. She’d been burnt, electrocuted and stabbed. Visible marks of torture were everywhere. Clint couldn’t let her go through that again; he knew she’d never reveal her secrets; she’d never even really divulged much about her past to him, but Gavrok wouldn’t give up, and Clint needed to make sure he failed... The next morning Gavrok appeared once more, he strolled to the end cell and threw some photo’s over to Tony, they were pictures of Pepper; her at work, her outside her home, her with her family. He’d done his research and didn't need to say another word to get his point across. Next he unlocked Clint’s cell and dragged Natasha from her position at Clint’s side. Clint tried to fight, but he was still bound to the back wall; he begged and pleaded him to take him instead, but Gavrok said nothing; he bound Natasha’s hands and feet, injected her with a sedative and slung her over his shoulder. On his way out he stopped in front of Steve’s cell; “Your team is suffering, dying, and you could stop it all...”Steve glared at him from where he was slumped in the corner, now he had his attention“Tell me about the super serum, help me recreate it, and i’ll let the others go. Think about it...” And with that, he left once more. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Gavrok reappeared that evening, depositing Natasha back in Clint’s cell; once again out of his reach. She was once more beaten; fresh bruises and cuts covered her body, Clint was sure there would be a few more broken bones, and this time her hands were tightly tied behind her back and she was gagged.“I thought you wanted information from her, how are you going to get anything if you gag her?” Tony asked angrily under his breath... Something wasn’t right with this scenario.“It became clear to me long ago Agent Romanoff would not reveal her secrets to me, and it appears her Hawk doesn’t have the information like I’d hoped”“So why?” Steve questioned him; he had been silent since Gavrok’s revelation that morning.“I can still have some fun” he smiledClint was furious at this, and lashed out; he fought once more against the chains which held him in place“Now now archer, don’t hurt yourself unnecessarily. Your leader may yet save you. All he needs to do is reveal his secrets...” he turned to leave once more, leaving the prospect of a way out hanging in the air. Steve inhaled deeply; “Is she?”“She’s still breathing. If that’s what you were going to ask” Clint answered, sounding harsher than he’d intended. He was furious, but not with their Captain; it wasn’t fair that this would all come down on him“Let’s think this through” Tony cut it, noticing the way Clint’s shoulders hunched as he realised how mean angry he’d sounded with Steve“Somehow, this guy got six superheroes here. Had chains and restraints strong enough to hold Thor, sedatives powerful enough to knock out Steve, and some way of containing the Hulk... He wants information on how we became this way; of Natasha’s training, my suit, Steve’s serum and probably Bruce’s radiation experiments”“Right” Clint agreed, a question lacing his tone“So he seems pretty willing to give up on three of those things if he can get answers about Steve’s serum, why that one in particular?”“Easy to sell?” Clint question“It’s certainly a lot more instant that Nat’s training, more subtle the Hulk or an Iron Man suit...”“I don’t know why he thinks I’d know the answers. I was a soldier, not a scientist” Steve said, once again breaking his silenceThe other two men shrugged, and all three were silent ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Natasha still hadn’t come round by the time Gavrok reappeared (presumably the next day, but they still had no way to track the time), smiling at them all“Any further thoughts Captain Rogers?” he askedSteve shook his head, he was almost glad he didn’t know the secret for the serum; just looking at Natasha, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stay strong enough to keep it, and he was sure if Gavrok had wanted information from Clint, he’d have gotten that by now too.“What a shame” Gavrok commented, moving to open Clint’s cell again“Don’t” Clint asked, he meant to sound forceful, but it came out as more of a plea “Oh Agent Barton, are you begging?”The glint in Gavrok’s eye made Clint furious, but anything that may help keep Natasha safe would be worth trying“Yes. Please don’t take her again. Take me instead! Please?”“I don’t think so... I think watching the woman suffer is having more of an effect on your dear Captain than if I were to take you, but I will give you this” Gavrok flashed a small brass key to Clint, and threw it to the floor as he lifted Natasha, taking her away once more. Before leaving completely, he turned back to the cells; “Oh and Mr Stark, the lovely Miss Potts will be here shortly” The key Gavrok had thrown had slid through the bars and into Tony’s cell, sadly he slid it back, as close to the archer as possible. A few moments later Clint’s writs were free“Why do you think he did that?” Tony asked, referring to Clint’s hands“I don’t think he’s bringing Natasha back” Clint answered miserably, a bout of panic rising in his chest as he thought of his partner“I hope he’s just playing mind tricks, I’m praying to God he doesn’t have Pepper” Tony said, hoping to distract Clint from Natasha's unknown fate. Tony knew if Pepper were here, if he and Pepper were in the situation that Clint and Natasha were in; he'd tell Gavrok everything, he wouldn't be able to stop himself.“Shield should have eyes on her, since we were all taken...” Clint tried to assure him, but he wasn’t putting anything past Gavrok. Both men were trying to make the other feel better, as Steve sat, desperately trying to figure a way out of this horrific situation; he'd give his life if it mean his teams safety, he had no doubt. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Clint guess it had been about a full 24 hours since Natasha was last taken, and it worried him...Suddenly the door slammed open, making all three men jump; “You three are the fortunate ones. Your teammates, they have not been so lucky”Three TV screens turned on on the wall opposite the cells, each one showed a member of their team.They knew roughly what Natasha had been going through so far, knew she was in a really bad way, but it had been a while since they’d seen Thor, and no one had seen Bruce since he’d hulked out in the original room they’d been kept in... At least they knew for certain that the three of them were still alive...The screen in front of Tony’s cell showed Bruce sat in a cell, breathing heavily, with a strange metal ring round his neck. Scientists were milling back and forth, electrocuting him, stabbing him, hurting him; it seemed they’d found a way to prevent the Hulk from appearing; and that left Bruce weak and vulnerable, and Tony feared for his friend.The screen in front of Clint showed Natasha, she was no longer being stabbed and beaten like she had been over the past however many godforsaken days they’d been trapped here; she was now being held under water; thrashing and fighting with all her strength to try and breach the surface and take a breath. She failed however, and as she gave in, they dragged her from the pool and started to resuscitate her. Clint's hands clenched into tight fists and his jaw set in anger; water torture was the one thing that ever came close to breaking Natasha; a favourite of those who ran the Red Room because they knew how much she feared it.The image on the screen by Steve’s cell showed Thor, he was connected to a drip feeding some toxic looking liquid into his system; leaving him unconscious. He was clearly in no fit state to fight back, so the men in the room took great pleasure in seeing how much damage they could inflict on the other worldly God.Suddenly, Steve snapped; watching the torment his teammates were suffering through, seeing the pain on Bruce's face, the panic in Natasha, and the fear in Tony and Clint; he'd had enough and he shouted;“I DON’T KNOW! I DON’T KNOW ABOUT THE SERUM, SO PLEASE, PLEASE STOP THIS!”He had barely spoken since they’d ended up in this mess, so the sudden outburst shocked the other two men in the cellsGavrok however just sighed; “shame” he stated, switching of the monitors and turning to leave the room“Wait!” Clint shouted after him, he’d been watching one of Gavrok’s men trying to resuscitate Natasha, but up until now, he hadn’t succeeded, and Clint needed to know...Gavrok sensed his impending question, shrugged, and slammed the door shut behind him.Clint lost it; he punched the concrete wall behind him so hard he was sure he’d broken more than a few bones, it didn’t make him feel better, it just enforced to him just how helpless he was in this whole fucked up situationBehind the door; Gavrok smiled ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It wasn’t long before Gavrok reappeared, bringing someone else with him to the cells... This time though, it wasn’t Natasha he had with him; it was Pepper. All three men’s heads snapped up as she was forced down the hallway infront of the cells, her hands bound. Tony’s eyes went wide; he’d been desperately hoping Gavrok had been bluffing when he’d mentioned her.... She was thrown in the cell with Tony, before Gavrok retreated from the room silently.She was covered in blood; her hands, her clothes, her face.“Pepper, what did he do to you?” Tony pleaded; desperate to have her in his arms, but too scared to touch her in case she was badly injured. The last thing he wanted was to cause her any pain“I’m fine Tony, I’m not hurt” her eyes were red and puffy; she’d been crying, which explained the blood smeared on her face; she’d been frantically wiping away the tears“Then what-““It’s not my blood” she answered gravely“Then who?”“Tasha” Clint answered for her. He’d sensed Pepper didn’t want to have this conversation in front of him and Steve, and that was the only explanation he could think of which explained why Pepper slowly nodded, confirming his suspicions, as she broke back down into tears, burying herself in Tony's embrace“Is she- Pepper, I need to know... Is she-“ he stumbled over his words; couldn’t say it, he couldn’t even think it...“She’s still alive. But I don’t know how much longer she can last; she’s in a bad way”Clint nodded, Natasha would hold out; she had to“She slipped me this, she told me you could use it” Pepper told him, reaching her hand over to Clint through the bars of the cell after she glanced cautiously over her shoulder at the door Gavrok had exited out of Clint reached out his hand to accept whatever it was Natasha had sent with Pepper“What is it?” Tony asked, as he and Steve tried to see the object held in Clint’s hand, their full attention now focused on whatever Natasha had deemed so important, she'd probably risked her life to get it to them“It’s a key” Clint said, Natasha never failed to amaze him“Nat must have lifted it from somewhere while she was-“ Steve let the sentence die, not wanting to finish...Clint reached awkwardly round the door and was shocked when his cell door actually swung open.She'd done it, Natasha had given them a way out... ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Clint quickly unlocked Tony’s cell, followed by Steve’s, still dumbfounded as to how Natasha had managed this oneSteve seemed to suddenly revert back to the strong leader they knew; snapping out of the moping he’d been doing since they arrived here. Clint and Tony knew he blamed himself, as much as they knew it wasn’t his fault; there was only one person to blame for this, and they would make him pay.“Pepper, do you remember the way out?”She nodded “I think so, yeah”“We need to get the others first, and it’d be useful if we found some weapons” Steve summarized, and the others nodded in agreement“Pepper, take us to where you saw Nat?” Clint pleaded, leaning on the wall slightly; he still had a bullet wound through his leg which hadn’t healed. Steve and Tony were also injured; it was going to be tough feat to get the other three out as well, but they had to try.“Pepper, were shield looking into out disappearance?” Tony asked her suddenly“Yeah, they didn’t have any leads though. Your coms went dead, trackers went offline. They had no way to track you once you'd been taken from that warehouse”“What about Coulson?” Steve asked guiltily, remembering that their handler’s com unit had shorted out before they’d all been drugged and brought here“He’s fine, he was in medical for a day or so because of the drugs in his system, he couldn’t remember what happened. He’s on the search team which has been looking for you guys” Clint smiled briefly, that was just like Phil They made their way quietly and swiftly down the dimly lit corridors; Steve in the lead as he was the most physically able to fight, his gunshot wound having nearly completely healed thanks to his accelerated healing. 'Shame they weren't all so lucky' Clint thought as his leg protested painfully to the movement. Tony and Pepper followed Steve, Pepper whispering the occasional change of direction, and Clint brought up the rear.“The next room on the left” Pepper informed them, “That’s where Natasha was”Clint’s heart rate increased as Steve cautiously approached the door.The room was pitch black until Tony located the light switch, and then it was suddenly too bright as white lights flooded the room A metal table was in the centre surrounded by metal instruments, and there was blood. A lot of blood, pooled on the floor. But Natasha wasn’t here.“Damn it!” Clint hissed under his breath, all he wanted was his bow in his hands and one clear shot“We’ll find her” Steve reassured him, placing a hand on Clint’s tense shoulder“What if we’re too late?” Clint asked voicing everyone's concerns, barely holding himself together ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Right” Steve said, gathering all his remaining energy in order to lead his team, “We need a plan; we can’t just go wondering aimlessly through these halls”“We need to go get Tasha” Clint said through gritted teeth“I’m with bird boy, that bastard could be doing anything to her... We need to get to Bruce and Thor as well. Our team needs us” Tony said determinedly, readying himself to argue with whatever Steve might sayTo Tony's surprise, Steve nodded in agreement “We need an out too; we won’t be able to get far with them once we get out of here... I have a plan, but I don’t think you guys are going to like it”“What it is?”“We split up” Pepper gasped slightly, and clung tighter to Tony’s shirt. He muttered under his breath; “Well it always works on Scooby Doo...”“Clint, you and I will go in opposite directions to look for Natasha, Bruce and Thor. Tony, you get Pepper out and get in contact with shield; we need an extraction plan and medical assistance. Once she’s safe, head back in; you’ll need to try and find your suit and give us a hand”“But what-“ Pepper began, but was cut off by Tony; “It’ll be fine Pep” Tony nodded curtly to Steve before taking Pepper’s hand and leaving the room.Of course he had no way to know that, but what choice did they have? They certainly couldn’t leave their team It was a long maze of hallway after hallway, the dim lighting straining their eyes. Tony was amazed Pepper had managed to remember her way, but then he really should stop underestimating herAfter about 15 minutes, Tony reached a large metal door, and found that it wasn’t locked; finally, some luck on their side. On opening, he gasped to feel the sun on his face. It was amazing after being cooped up in a cell underground for god know how long...Dragging Pepper a good distance away, he fiddled with the com unit which was still in his ear, hoping now he was above ground and away from anything Gavrok may have used to interfere with the devices, it’d start working again, if it didn’t; they were screwed. They were literally in the middle of nowhere.“Stark? Stark do you copy?”“Coulson?”“Stark! I have never been happier to hear your voice!”“Right back at you, you think you can give us a lift?”“Tracking your co-ordinates now. Are you all there?” Tony noticed the worry in his voice“There’s just me and Pepper at the moment, the coms don’t work in the building. Clint and Steve are looking for the others... You may want to send a med team with the evac”“Roger that Stark... Right, we have your co ordinates. We should be there in about three hours”“Three hours?! Where the hell are we?”“You’re in Mexico” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Tony sprinted back into the building after promising Pepper several times that he’d be okay. Checking every room he passed, he eventually found something useful. “I missed you” he whispered as his eyes roamed his suit. They’d clearly been trying to get into it to see how it worked, however it didn’t seemed they’d made much progress. It was dented and scraped, tool marks were everywhere but nothing a little paint couldn’t fix.Looking at the tools and equipment around the small room he got an idea...*Steve and Clint had gone in opposite directions in order to try and find the other members of the team. After a while of searching, they’d still found nothing... Suddenly the com devices in their ears crackled to life;“Hello? Can you guys hear me?” came Tony’s voice“Tony? How did you-“ Steve began“I found some tools and I managed to build something to boost the signal... Lucky Gavrok didn’t think to remove the coms! Shield are on their way... Oh, and by the way; I got my suit back!” the smile spreading over his face as he spoke the last statement was clearly evident in his voiceClint’s voice came in next; “You found anything Cap?” “Negative”“Jarvis is working on compiling a map of this place, from there I can get a read from your coms, as well as the others hopefully and I can guide you to them... Just give me a few minutes”“Guys?” “Bruce!” Tony exclaimed happily, it hadn’t gone unnoticed by the others it seemed it was just the three of them... Again“How’d you get your suit?” he was tired, his voice strained but he was definitely hopeful this gave them a way out“Nat managed to get a key to us so we could get out, we’re coming to get you” Tony assured him“Where are Nat and Thor now?” he asked, aware that they were the only two members not currently engaging in this conversation“I’m working on finding that out” Tony answered, not wanting to go into too much detailSuddenly the power cut out; lights went down and doors slammed shut. They were left in complete darkness as an angry voice sounded out over the PA system“I know how you escaped. And I will make you suffer, no one disobeys me!” Gavrok hissed“Tony, get that map now” Clint demanded, stumbling through the dark“Working on it, just one more... Got it! Right, Cap; you’re right near Thor, two doors up on your right”“Tony, where’s Tasha?” “It’s still searching, give me a second”“She might not have a second! You heard what he said, she’s the reason we were able to escape!”“Clint, Jarvis isn’t picking up her com. I’ve got a location on Bruce, but that’s it”“святое дерьмо” Clint swore as he punched the wall again ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “I’ve got Thor! Anyone free to give me a hand?” Steve sounded down the coms as he tried to help the heavily drugged Asgardian to his feet“I’m on my way to Bruce, but Clint if you turn around and take you’re third left, second door on your right you’ll find Steve and Thor... Clint? Clint?”“Any way you can handle it without me?”“Don’t worry, I got this. Go get Nat” Steve said, knowing exactly why the archer was hesitant to come and help“Steve, me and Bruce will be there in a minute... As soon as we’ve got them out we’ll come back and help Clint” It took Tony a few minutes to figure out how to release the device from around Bruce’s neck; clearly it was what was keeping the Hulk from making an appearance and they may need him. When he was finally free the two men ran down the hall to help Steve with Thor; the guy wasn’t light and was still too out of it to support his own weight. Clint was only vaguely aware of the others’ progress as they chattered on the line. The four of them were together now and working on getting Thor out while Bruce worked hard to keep a lid on The Hulk; now the device had been removed the other guy was agitated at having been suppressed for so long, and the injuries Bruce had sustained over the past few days were causing his anger to boil over. Clint was far too busy searching every room he came across, hoping to glimpse a sight of his partner but so far there had been nothing.He finally came up against a locked door, and hoped against hope that it mean Natasha was inside. A few minutes, and an injured shoulder later he knocked it down and found himself inside another empty room... feeling disheartened he turned to leave, until he spotted something; his bow. Tucked away at the back of one of the work benches mostly covered by clutter, but it was definitely his bow! His quiver was nowhere in sight, but holding the bow in his hands offered him at least a little comfort; it was familiar. As he made his way back to the long, cold hallway he stood on something; looking down he was amazed to see one of his exploding arrows. It was damaged; the timing mechanism was off, but still... An arrow was an arrow, and right now Clint would take anything he could get.He spent the next several minutes making is way down the corridor; searching room after room... Until something made him stop and think... The room he’d found his bow in had another door at the far end, every other room, including the cells where they’d been kept and the large room they’d initially been held in; only had one exit... So where did that door go? ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Between Tony and Steve they managed to drag Thor out of the building, after a few wrong turns they found the door and reconvened with Pepper. She was so stressed she’d been pacing; the relief flooded over her as she watched the door swing open and Tony appear.“W-where are the others?” she asked when it became apparent not all of the team where here“Clint’s still trying to find Nat” Tony told her, avoiding his gaze from Pepper, who was still covered in Natasha’s blood“What about Bruce?” she asked, she was visibly shaking. She wasn’t used to this; sure, she knew her friends often faced dangerous, life or death situations, went up against horrible, vicious people, but she wasn’t used to being in the middle of it, and what was worse was that she felt useless; standing by, unable to help.“He was right... He was here!” Tony answered, confused. Searching behind him for his missing friend. An echoing roar sounded from the building and their questions were answered; he’d lost his hold on the Hulk. “Right, Pepper. You stay here with Thor, we’re going to go back and give Clint a hand and try and calm down Bruce okay?” She nodded her agreement and watched as Iron Man and Captain America rushed back into the building to help their friends. Looking down at Thor; he was in and out of consciousness, desperately fighting the drugs in his system that weighed him down. How on earth this guy had developed something to drug the Asgardian was beyond her... There was something strange about this whole thing... “Any luck Clint?” Steve’s voice came down the com“Nothing yet. I’ve got my bow, but not my quiver; I only have one arrow, but I have an idea”“We’re on our way, but we have another problem”“I heard, the other guy is here. Listen, I want this one; it’s personal. Keep him away until I’m done with Gavrok”“Clint-““Not now Steve, you can lecture me on carelessness and teamwork later”“All I was going to say was; ‘go get him. I hope you make him pay!’”“Oh trust me. I will”Clint had reached the door he’d broken down earlier and slowly entered, bow drawn. He was extra alert; the pulsating of his blood was louder than the chatter between Tony and Steve. Nothing could distract him now, he was sure this door would lead him to Gavrok, and that would lead him to Nat... ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It was pitch black as Clint entered through the second door and followed a set of stair down further into the building. He was on edge, but something told him this was the right way to go. Once he’d reached the bottom, the com unit turned to static and he lost connection with his team, the boost Tony had given the signal clearly didn’t extend down another floor. “Welcome Mr. Barton” Gavrok’s arrogant voice sounded as he entered a large room.Concrete walls and floor, with just one single light bulb hanging from the center of the room. In the far corner was Natasha; barely conscious and tied to a chair, she was gagged, and Clint’s arrival seemed to jolt her with some energy; her eyes suddenly focused and she shifted slightly in against her binds. She was covered in blood; it ran from her abdomen down her legs and pooled on the floor, but she was alive; and right now that’s all that mattered.Gavrok stood across from the door, glaring at Clint as he entered. Clint noticed the hint of disappointment in his face when he saw he had his bow, but he quickly pushed it aside and replaced it with a scowl.“Don’t come any closer” he warned, lifting a gun and pointing it at Natasha, and Clint froze in place with his bow still aimed squarely at Gavrok. He knew he couldn’t use it yet, he needed to get himself and Natasha clear first; the timing devise on the explosive arrow had been damaged and there was no telling how unstable it was... It could explode on impact or it might not explode at all... The only thing on his side was that Gavrok didn’t know that.“I knew it’d be you” Gavrok told him with a sneer“Yeah, well... What can I say?” Clint responded with a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders.“All I wanted was some information, and now I know how to get it” The change in tone caused Clint to tear his eyes away from Natasha, she suddenly looked full of fear and her eyes shone with a warning. Looking back to Gavrok, Clint found the gun now pointed at him instead“I figured out her weakness” he snarled ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “She withstood the torture well; better than any human should have been able. She should have given up her secrets long ago... But I did not take into consideration her true weakness, she would not succumb to physical torture, but mental torture... That's a whole different story. Her real weakness, is you”Clint frowned; it had always been that way, right from that first meeting in Budapest. The only way to get to Clint was through Natasha, and the only way to compromise Nat was through Clint.Daring to glance in her direction, she avoided his gaze; but even so, Clint could see the fear and the regret in her eyes. “And don’t try anything stupid” Gavrok warned him, indicating Clint’s still raised bow. He flicked a switch on a concealed remote in his hand; sending electric shocks coursing through Natasha’s body. She writhed in pain as all her remaining strength was taken; he only let up when Clint desperately lowered his weapon; she couldn't take any more. And Clint couldn't take watching her pain“That’s better” Gavrok sneered.Clint’s jaw set in anger, and he made a decision - the consequences be damned. In one swift movement he raised his arms, aimed, and loosed the arrow, it exploded immediately on impact, barely giving Clint enough time to position himself in front of Natasha to try and shield her from the blast. Tony was desperately trying to reason with 'the other guy' and get through to Bruce when the three of them heard it; the whole building shook and in the distance they heard walls collapsing as the ceiling came down.“Clint? Clint?!” Steve called down his com, but no answer came... One arrow, Clint said he’d had one arrow left... Clearly he’d used it.Thor suddenly appeared beside Tony; slow and stumbling, but upright and a determined edge to his face“We must retrieve out team, we must leave together” he told them, and they all nodded. Even The Hulk understood the concept of ‘his team’ Pepper watched on on horror from her station outside as half the building collapsed. She prayed the team were safe; because what else could she do? She would be a liability if she went in there, there was nothing she could do to help. So she continued to wait for sheild, as tears steamed her face and she desperately tried to cling to hope. There was a heavy weight across Natasha’s chest that she soon realised was Clint; the arrow had exploded and the force of the blast had sent him flying backwards, knocking over the chair she was tied to. If her wrist hadn’t already been broken; it would be now. It was awkwardly wedge between the metal chair and the concrete floor; under the weight of herself and Clint; she was completely stuck, and the explosion looked like it had caused some serious structural damage. Between the debris and dust which now clouded the air, the gag placed tightly over her mouth, Clint's dead weight lay across her abdomen, and the broken ribs she'd obtained over the past few days she was finding it increasingly difficult to breath. She just needed Clint to wake up so they could try and get out of there before the whole place collapsed, but it didn’t look like that would be happening anytime soon...
1023315	More Than You Will Ever	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Morgana (Merlin), Uther Pendragon (Merlin), Vivienne (Merlin), Gorlois (Merlin), Morgause (Merlin), Nimueh (Merlin)", "Fandom": "Merlin (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by lilyhandmaiden", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-10-29T00:00:00", "words": "1,939", "Additional Tags": "Pre-Canon, Angst, Introspection", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Morgana & Uther Pendragon (Merlin), Uther Pendragon/Vivienne (Merlin), Gorlois/Vivienne (Merlin), Morgause & Vivienne (Merlin), Vivienne & Nimueh, Morgana & Vivienne (Merlin)", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "Gen, F/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	He had never been sure. That was the hardest thing. If he’d only known for certain, one way or the other, he’d have had a better idea of how to deal with Morgana. She could simply have been born a month early, like everyone assumed she was. She could be Gorlois’s daughter; it was far from impossible. There had been that day, the day after Morgana was born, when Vivienne had called him to her and said, “Well? Are you going to ask? I know you’re wondering.” She’d waited until then, until after the child was in the world and Gorlois had seen it. She smiled like a witch. He had been wondering. But he had pushed it from his mind until the day before, when Vivien had been brought to bed a month before her time. It had been a hard birth, and he’d stayed up all the night, unable to sleep, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Six months after Ygraine’s death, and he’d still felt so much powerlessness, despair, and Vivien had looked up at him with those sad, lonely eyes… Her marriage to Gorlois had been political, and she had always been so beautiful, but so weak. He was not to blame. Yes, she had always been weak. That was what he thought as he looked at her then. She did not look at all well, but the baby was strong. I know you’re wondering. He was silent. She said, “What if I told you she was yours? I know you took my first baby from me, Uther Pendragon.” She caught his expression. “Yes. Who else could have been behind it? Wouldn’t it be poetic justice, for me to raise your child in hatred of you, raise her to take your precious son’s throne and steal your crown? This little, innocent babe could be the instrument of my vengeance. I could have made sure I conceived that day. Did that not occur to you?” “You’re no witch, Vivienne. You don’t have that power.” “But who is my sister, Uther? You thought you could keep her from seeing me? Your power is nothing to Nimueh’s.” She sank back against her pillows, her face drawn. “But I would be a fool to tell you that, wouldn’t I, if it were true? Knowing the history you have with inconvenient babies?” At the sound of that name, his hands had started to shake. “I have spared you…” he began, through gritted teeth. “For your dear friend, Gorlois, whom you have cuckolded? Because I am not gifted like my sister?” “Yes.” The baby, in her basinet by the bed, started to cry, and Vivienne lifted her and held her close. “You should think, Uther, on the fact that you and your crusade are wounding the innocent, too. You put a death sentence on my sister’s head, and you think that doesn’t hurt me?” There were tears in her eyes. “The wounded grow desperate, they become fierce, and they will always rise up to strike.” “Not if I dispatch them.” His voice was cold. “Starting with me? But how would you explain my execution to my dear husband?” Despite her words, she didn’t look like a witch then. She looked, he thought, merely pathetic. “No. I will raise my baby under your very nose, and one day you will find out whether she is yours or not. Until then, you can go on wondering.” But within days, Vivienne had taken an infection and died. The answer to the riddle that was the infant Morgana died with her—if, Uther thought darkly, she herself even knew the answer. His mind was not as easy after her death as he’d have liked. It called up too many memories of Ygraine’s, for one thing. Then, too, knowing that she would never poison the mind of any child of his, he could pity her. She had never said an unkind word to him before that day, the last day they spoke, in spite of everything. She had only been very beautiful, and very weak. He had, perhaps, not always treated her well. Gorlois, who had adored his wife, was despondent. “I shall grant you Tintagel Castle,” Uther told him, “on the holding near your brother’s land, as a reward for your years of service to me. You should go—get away from this place, with all its memories of her.” And so, before he had even set eyes on her more than twice, the child was gone to the very edge of the kingdom. The distance made it easy for him to convince himself that she was Gorlois’s, after all. No one, not even Gaius, had questioned the baby’s prematurity. Vivienne had been bluffing, lashing out, tired and ill, nothing more. In ten years, he saw Morgana only once. Gorlois, now lord of all the Cornish region, let her come with him on one of his frequent journeys to Camelot when she was around six. Uther had intensified his purge, extending it to the families and associates of known sorcerers. Shopkeepers, servants, children had been drowned. “Think what you’re doing!” Gorlois shouted. “The people will turn against you. For God’s sake, Uther, think of Vivienne! Give these people the chance you gave her, that you’re giving Morgana.” He saw her only briefly, in the courtyard, and for a moment his conviction wavered. He searched her face for a Pendragon resemblance, and was relieved to find none. Of course, she did not look particularly like Gorlois, either. Under Vivienne’s dark hair, Morgana looked like no one. Still, he felt reassured. She certainly was not his daughter. And so, when Gorlois lay dying on the field of battle, the last words he breathed, “Please promise me you’ll take care of Morgana,” Uther said, “Yes. I promise.” He spoke the words freely, as a last favor to a friend. He would bring Morgana to Camelot, because Morgana was Gorlois’s daughter and there would be no harm in it. For that moment of betrayal before her birth, for all he had done to Gorlois and even to Vivienne, yes, he would take care of Morgana. She was giving him hell before they’d even set off, throwing a fit about having to leave her nurse behind. When she looked him in the eye and shouted, “Branwen has to come! She’s my friend!” all he could think was that he had his confirmation. Gorlois was the only other person who had dared to challenge him like that, and Morgana had inherited that audacity. So, while the servants standing about gasped and stared, he did not get angry. He refused her demand with a smile. Later, when she sat pale on her pony beside him and simply refused to speak, he acknowledged that she had some of Vivienne’s petulant, emotional nature, too. But this girl, while she might become beautiful like Vivienne, was strong. They were two days out from Tintagel when he first looked at her and found himself wondering, Are her eyes the same shade as mine? Nine more years went by. Most of the time he believed Morgana to be Gorlois’s daughter. Most of the time. The way she defied him, dared to stand against everything he had built, sometimes almost spit hatred at him… When she helped that druid boy escape, he knew her to be no daughter of his. She was Vivienne’s daughter through and through, Nimueh’s niece, a traitor by blood, but for Gorlois he would spare her. For Gorlois, and… And because he could not be sure. Uther had sacrificed too much for too long to kill any child of his. And there were days when he thought, Perhaps. There were days when he thought he could see in her eyes flashes of himself, and he acknowledged that it was possible. If only he knew. Because he didn’t know how to govern her like this. He would discipline Arthur without a thought, but the guilt and uncertainty surrounding Morgana left him with hands tied. What rights did he have over Morgana’s life? The rights of a guardian, certainly, but a father was more. The day Uther took Morgana to Gorlois’s grave and she killed his would-be assassin, something turned. He had come to that place speaking of Gorlois as her father, speaking of her resemblance to him, and he had come away thinking, The daughter has saved her father. For the first time, he found that he would have liked to be able to claim her as his. My daughter saved my life. Perhaps. Over the next year, that feeling grew. After all, she was born at the right time. It was possible that she was Gorlois’s but not impossible that she was his, and the way Vivienne had spoken… It was, strangely enough, when she disappeared that he knew. What he felt then was the desperate fear of a father, not of a mere guardian. He saw it all the instant she was gone, and wondered how he had blinded himself for so long. Her will was as strong as his own. But the flaws of the parent are the flaws of the child, and she had them all—his pride, his anger, his rashness. She’d called him brutal, a tyrant, she had broken his heart and he loved her anyway. As Vivienne had said, the wounded always rise up to strike. He had disowned his daughter, and so she had done the same to him. Vivienne did not need to poison Morgana against him; years of doubt, uncertainty, and his inability to punish his own faults in his child had taken their toll. If she hated him, then God knew he’d made it so. As the time passed, his certainty grew with his anguish. He had to make amends. He would not rest. And he would devote everything, everything to finding her, his lost child who was so like himself. If he’d lost her, lost her even before Morgause had taken her… for that, he was to blame. He vowed that, if he found her, he would never lose his daughter again. He thanked his stars that, even should Morgause know the secret of Arthur’s birth, no one alive but he knew the secret of Morgana’s. She had his flaws, after all, and so he knew that she would never forgive him. * On the Isle of the Blessed, a twelve-year-old girl stands between her mother and the most powerful sorceress in the world, examining her pretty new bracelet. “Next time you see me,” her mother says, “you’ll have a little brother or sister.” “Sister.” The sorceress smiles. “The bracelet will help you find her when you scry.” “And if you wear that bracelet, she will be sure to know you. She will be very important, Morgause. She was conceived to bring down the Pendragon dynasty and restore magic to the realm. It is her purpose. I—” The sorceress signals the girl’s mother to say no more. “You mean this is her destiny?” Morgause asks, trying to understand. “Her destiny, her curse.” Nimueh turns to her sister. “The magic is powerful, Vivien. Be careful what you say.” Vivien places Morgause’s hand so she can feel the baby kick. “See? She knows you already.” It is the last time Morgause sees her mother alive. Nimueh never speaks of her, or the baby, again. But Morgause finds Morgana sometimes, in the crystals. * “When shall I be dead and rid Of all the wrong my father did? How long, how long, till spade and hearse Put to sleep my mother’s curse?” -A.E. Housman
1093082	Kai	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Naruto", "Language": "Русский", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by Mikao", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-12-21T00:00:00", "words": "14,646", "Additional Tags": "Genderbending, Pregnancy, Character Death", "Relationship": "Jiraiya/Orochimaru", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "F/M, M/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Нет! Ни о чём, Нет, я не жалею ни о чём... На площади имени Исао Ишусатсу разлилась канализация. Вонь стояла невыносимая; третью неделю шли дожди. Злые, насквозь мокрые солдаты спецотряда прочёсывали квартал за кварталом, а редкие гражданские, оказавшиеся на улице, жались ближе к стенам, под струи с карнизных труб. Друг другу шёпотом рассказывали, что шпионы из Страны Огня проникли в архив Града и украли десяток личных дел лучших шиноби, а ещё нефритовые печатки из кабинетов Старейшин. — Печатки-то зачем? — удивлялись бескорыстные. — Деньги на обратную дорогу понадобились, — резонно отвечали им. Амэгакуре медленно погружалась в зловонные мутные воды.Они стояли на карнизе третьего этажа, крепко стиснув друг друга лентами маскировочного дзюцу. Внизу пробежали, разбрызгивая лужи; кто-то остановился, постоял мгновение, вслушиваясь, и скрылся в дожде. — Внутрь, — тихо сказал Орочимару. Они залезли в окно. Склад при закрытой швейной мастерской вонял гнилью. Вдоль стен стояли зачехлённые станки, лежали пятнистые, расползшиеся от воды рулоны ткани. Джирайя дошёл до середины зала и упал на вспухшие доски. Его начало трясти. Над ним качался чёрный потолок в гирляндах паутины и мха, страшный, как конец света. — Холодно, — сказал Джирайя и стиснул зубы, чтобы не стучали. Орочимару ответил откуда-то издалека: — Не холодно. Это у тебя от кровопотери. Джирайя перевалился набок, поискал его глазами. Орочимару, бледный и злой, рисовал иероглифы скрывающей печати в чистом свитке. Джирайя вскинулся было, но упал обратно. — Быстрее, засекут же... — Не лезь под руку! — в полный голос рявкнул Орочимару. Он сложил «бык» и «змей», зашипел, стал проводить связку заново, затем опустил ладонь на печати и оглядел зал. Ничего не произошло. — Доски мокрые, — миролюбиво сказал Джирайя. — Тушь не держится. Давай кунаем. Орочимару молча кинулся к стенам. Джирайя, крупно дрожа, съёжился и застонал, потрогал себя справа под рёбрами. Было больно. Боль плескалась в животе, как что-то тяжёлое, от неё было трудно дышать. Орочимару царапал пол. — Что теперь? — спросил Джирайя собственные колени. Орочимару молчал, и Джирайя закрыл глаза. Он подумал о нефритовых печатках, о том, как приятно будет подарить их Цунаде. Ему привиделось высокое небо Конохи, липы в цвету, жёлтая пыль на дороге. Никаких дождей. Цунаде стоит на мосту, солнце золотит её волосы; она смотрит на нефрит в ладони и смеётся. Потом он проснулся. Рядом сидел Орочимару. — Жаба, ты случайно не умираешь? — спросил он. — Я медитирую. — Не очень похоже. Джирайя поймал его взгляд и криво усмехнулся. Стучал дождь, в отдалении орали. — У них есть наши портреты, — заговорил Джирайя. — Но это чушь. Главное, что у них есть слепки чакры. Сейчас патрулей... Шесть? — Восемь. — Восемь, — повторил Джирайя. Когда они уходили от штаба Града, их было всего четыре. — Как плохо, — пробормотал он. — Но ничего. Ничего. Уйдём. — Как? — Сейчас придумаю. — Думай, — сказал Орочимару и отвернулся. Джирайя потёр лицо. — Ладно, давай ты. — Заткнись, — сказал Орочимару. — Лежи тихо и умирай. Тогда я, может быть, вытащу нас отсюда. Джирайя задумчиво смотрел на его распущенные длинные волосы: хотелось намотать их на пальцы и дёрнуть. Он вдруг понял, почему Орочимару так взвинчен, и обрадовался. — Ты уже придумал! Рассказывай. Орочимару, забывшись, поднял руку ко рту и стал кусать ногти. Дурацкая детская привычка, ему совсем не подходящая. Джирайя машинально потянулся, хлопнул его по руке, и Орочимару заворчал от неожиданности. — Что угодно, — серьёзно сказал Джирайя. — Я не буду смеяться. Хотя подожди, я уже сам придумал! Мы всех убиваем и уходим через главные ворота! Как тебе? Орочимару улыбнулся. Это было неприятное, почти пугающее зрелище. — Около главных ворот лужа размером с озеро и дерьма по пояс. — А, — сказал Джирайя, — тогда конечно. Так что ты говорил? — Хенге. Джирайя подождал продолжения, но Орочимару молчал. — Хенге, — повторил Джирайя. — Мы не на утреннике. — Это особое хенге. — Хоть имени Основателей. Не тупи, Орочимару. Если бы всё было так просто, я бы тебя не спрашивал. Орочимару окаменел лицом и ушёл в пасмурную полутьму. Джирайя тяжко задумался. Стоит выйти из этого склада за пределы печати, и их засекут. Он мысленно развернул перед собой карту Амэгакуре. В архивах Конохи был единственный план — план улиц на уровне земли, который ничего не прояснял. В Стране Дождя по земле ходили редко. Города здесь строились вверх, ближе к вечным тяжёлым облакам, подальше от никогда не сохнущих мостовых и рек, разлитых большую часть года. Амэгакуре... Башни, оплетённые водостоками и трубами, тесно жмущиеся друг к другу; уровни переходов, маленькие окна, холодные сквозняки, и везде — решётки, ржавчина и дождь, дождь, бесконечный дождь, вызывающий лихорадку, грибок и апатию. Самое место для жаб. — Но мне здесь не нравится, — прошептал Джирайя. С привычным отвращением он прислушался к зуду в ступнях. Его снова стало клонить в сон, но теперь он не видел ни солнца, ни лип, ни Цунаде. Ему казалось, что он тонет в темноте. Его ударили по щеке, и он очнулся. — Хватит валяться, — отрывисто сказал Орочимару, расстилая поперёк живота Джирайи зелёный свиток. — Вытянись. Руки, убери руки!.. Джирайя обалдел. — Откуда это? — Подкрепление пришло! — Серьёзно, Орочимару, я думал... — Запас, — признался Орочимару. — У меня ещё один есть. — И ты, сволочь, молчал, — растроганно пробормотал Джирайя. Медицинский свиток вспыхнул зелёным, и тушь с него пропала. Джирайя охнул, схватился за бок. Боль не исчезла, но стало легче дышать. Орочимару, мерцая глазами, следил за Джирайей; он спросил: — Теперь ты можешь идти? — Могу. А куда? Орочимару встал. Невысокий и жилистый, с тяжёлыми чёрными волосами и белым, словно присыпанным рисовой пудрой лицом, он странно смотрелся в полевой униформе. — Это незавершённая техника, — сказал он, сводя руки у груди. Увидев положение его пальцев, Джирайя удивился и хотел было спросить: зачем «лошадь», если ты делаешь хенге? — но Орочимару повёл печать дальше, и Джирайя совсем растерялся. Это было вовсе не хенге. Хлопнув, взвился белёсый дым. Орочимару не двигался, слабо светились его сцепленные пальцы. Джирайя, изнемогая от любопытства, неуклюже встал и переждал приступ головокружения. — Орочимару? Дым рассеивался, а свечение становилось всё отчётливее; оно разливалось по рукам, повторяя рисунок сосудов под кожей. Джирайя почувствовал, что в окружающей обстановке что-то изменилось, но он не смог понять, что именно. Орочимару развёл руки. Чакра капала с них, как вода, и исчезала, падая на пол. Узор проступил на впалых щеках, у глаз под лиловыми татуировками — и тут же потух. Орочимару качнулся, неуверенно шагнул к Джирайе. Откинув волосы за спину, он спросил: — Ну что? — Что? Орочимару вздохнул. — Джирайя. Посмотри на меня. — Смотрю, — с удовольствием сказал Джирайя. — Вижу. Чем тебя не нравились старые печати для хенге? Зачем нужно было придумывать новые? Орочимару не сильно изменился. Смягчился абрис челюсти, стали уже плечи, раздались бёдра. Униформа скрадывала грудь. Он выглядел женщиной болезненного вида и странной, тревожащей красоты. Он сказал: — Идиот, посмотри на чакру. Джирайя послушно прижал пальцы к переносице, поморгал, посмотрел ещё раз. Он сказал удивлённо: — Это как?.. Орочимару уже ушёл к рулонам ткани и тюкам, перетянутым верёвками. Сев на корточки, он расшвыривал их, как кот, ищущий мышь. — Понял теперь? — цедил он, не оглядываясь. — Я изменил рисунок чакры. Я выгляжу, как другой человек, даже в прицеле Бьякугана или Шарингана, или какие здесь аналоги. И это тело... — Это не иллюзия? Орочимару фыркнул, не потрудившись ответить. Джирайя подошёл к нему и навис, как башня, морщась от пыли и запаха лежалой ткани. — И сколько ты так продержишься? Миленькое платье. Орочимару швырнул платье Джирайе в лицо. — Полчаса. Ещё меньше, раз мне придётся вести тебя. Миленькие шорты, а? — Маловаты мне, — сказал Джирайя. — Давай ты уже перестанешь ломаться и расскажешь, что собираешься делать? Орочимару встал, сунул Джирайе в руки серое неприметное тряпьё; сам стал раздеваться, и Джирайя уставился заинтересованно. — Тебе я тоже изменю чакру, но хенге наложу обычное. На ещё одно тело меня не хватит. — Ты можешь научить меня, — заикнулся Джирайя, но Орочимару холодно глянул и отрезал: — Нет времени. Одевайся. Он стянул свитер и штаны и остался в белье: женщина в чёрной майке и мужских трусах. От холода он покрылся мурашками, острые соски натянули ткань. Джирайя всё смотрел, заворожённый, пока Орочимару не прикрикнул: — Шевелись же! Одежда Джирайе оказалась мала. Он задвинул сумку с боеприпасами подальше под плащ и с сожалением спрятал протектор в ботинок. Орочимару уже ждал его у двери, у самой черты скрывающих печатей. В пасмурном бледном свете он выглядел молодо, совсем девчонкой. — Кем мне стать? — спросил Джирайя, и Орочимару ответил не задумываясь: — Стариком. Джирайя вспомнил соседа-гражданского, разводящего на балконе бонсай: лет семидесяти, хромого и с седой косицей. Он провёл хенге и спросил: — Что теперь? Орочимару протянул ему руку: — Держись и не отпускай.На четвёртом уровне ветер был достаточно сильным, чтобы сбросить неосторожного за перила мостков. Шквалами падал дождь; переходы были скользкими, с них лились водопады. Здесь, наверху, было просторное, но тяжёлое небо, и совсем близко рокотали тучи. Орочимару шёл первым; он, как поводырь, вёл Джирайю за руку следом за собой. Мимо плыли вершины башен с редко светящимися окнами. — Всё-таки надо было по низу, — сказал Джирайя и тут же набрал полный рот воды. Он зафыркал, сжал пальцы Орочимару. — Слышишь? — Это бы выглядело подозрительно. Никто не ходит по первому ярусу в такую погоду. Джирайя подумал о своих жабах. У него не было сил пробраться по ручьям, скрывшись в жабьем брюхе, а Орочимару такого обращения с призывными животными не знал. Он спрятал лицо от ветра краем капюшона — седой низкорослый старик, измученный сыростью и холодом. Ноги невыносимо зудели. — Хромай, — напомнил Орочимару, и Джирайя захромал. Впереди виднелся перекрёсток. Когда до него оставалось пятьдесят шагов, появились шиноби. Рука Орочимару даже не дрогнула. Некоторое время он продолжал идти, словно никого не заметив. Затем он сбавил шаг — не остановился, а всего лишь замедлился в некотором замешательстве — и потянул Джирайю к перилам, уступая дорогу военным. Шиноби смотрели на них, столпившись на перекрёстке. Их было четверо. Вода стекала по респираторам и лилась с водонепроницаемых плащей. Когда Джирайя и Орочимару подошли на двадцать шагов, шиноби сорвались с места. Орочимару с испуганным вскриком заслонил собой Джирайю. Шиноби взяли их в кольцо. Из-под плащей мокро блестели катаны, кто-то держал нагинату остриём в лужи. — Снимите капюшоны, — сказал один из них. Поколебавшись, Орочимару откинул капюшон, затем повернулся и обнажил голову Джирайе. Шиноби с нагинатой, рассмотрев их, спросил: — Куда идёте? — Домой, — пробормотал Орочимару. — Откуда? — Из бакалейной... Я продавщицей там... — Рабочий день не закончился, — сказал кто-то, и Орочимару ссутулился. — Осталась бы подольше, но отец... — Что с ним? Джирайя смотрел перед собой, припав на правую ногу. Краем глаза он заметил шиноби, поднявшего два пальца к переносице. Он не мигал и не щурился на ветер. Собственная чакра, скрученная и словно бы онемевшая, как пережатая конечность, отозвалась тупой болью в голове и груди. Джирайя знал, что сенсор видит лишь двух испуганных гражданских. — Начал буянить, — прошептал Орочимару, потеряв голос от стыда. — Он немного... не опасен, просто... — он оглянулся на Джирайю, сверкнув светлыми глазами сквозь мокрые волосы, облепившие лицо. — У него был удар. Шиноби с нагинатой, бывший, видимо, командиром, посмотрел на сенсора. Тот покачал головой. Тогда командир сказал: — Ладно. Идите. Тецу, проводи. Джирайя уставился в пол. Рослый человек с протектором на шее остался на месте, когда его отряд исчез в дожде. Он кивнул Орочимару, и тот прошёл мимо. Джирайя увидел, как Тецу посмотрел на него — на бледную красивую женщину в мокрой одежде, — и на краткий миг ощутил ужас. Затем ему стало смешно. Он быстро и внимательно оценил, как этот Тецу держит катану и какая у него походка. Плащ скрывал оружие. Джирайя подумал, как легко загнать нож в незащищённые почки, и решил: плевать, ерунда какая. Оставим лежать где-нибудь и уйдём в хорошем темпе... — Где ты живёшь? — спросил Тецу. Небо закончилось, начались ступени на третий ярус. Орочимару не оглянулся, но ответил: — Внизу, возле двадцатого коллектора. Тецу незаметно оказался рядом и пошёл, касаясь плечом. Орочимару посмотрел мельком, и Джирайя, хоть и не видел из-за их спин, представил этот быстрый взгляд из-под ресниц и тревожно открытые губы. Становилось всё темнее. — Как долго продлится эта суматоха? — спросил Орочимару. — Не знаю. — Это ведь шпионы, да? — Вроде того. — Как жаль, — сказал Орочимару, — что вам нельзя говорить об этом. Джирайя с трудом различил движение. Раздался глухой звук. Тецу остановился, и Орочимару обернулся к нему, приятно улыбаясь. Тецу, задыхаясь, осел на ступени — его лицо багровело на глазах. Джирайя не видел укуса, но знал, что он где-то на шее. Тецу тяжело свалился, раскинув руки, и Джирайя перешагнул через него. — Через пять минут он умрёт, — сказал Орочимару, — и команда придёт за ним. Они знают нашу маскировку. Джирайя скинул хенге и потянул Орочимару вниз по лестнице. — У нас целых пять минут. Прорва времени! Уходя, Орочимару посмотрел на человека с раздутым чёрным лицом, и взгляд этот был странно задумчив. Впереди расстилалась влажная полутьма нижних ярусов. До границы посёлка они добрались раньше, чем умер Тецу.В начале ночи Джирайя упал лицом в холодную грязь и не смог подняться. На мгновение он поверил, что сейчас захлебнётся в луже — как унизительно так умереть на трезвую голову! — но Орочимару поднял его и дальше потащил волоком. Было темно, но некоторое время небо на востоке подсвечивалось алым. Джирайя смотрел туда, пока отблески не угасли. В стране Дождя пожары длились недолго. Орочимару споткнулся, и Джирайя пришёл в себя. Он попытался встать на ноги, но Орочимару не пустил. — Ты устал, — пробормотал Джирайя. — Я тяжёлый. И выше. И сильнее. Орочимару промолчал, не фыркнул даже. Очень близко Джирайя увидел блестящую серьгу, запутавшуюся в волосах и подумал: какая неосторожность, ведь так удобно схватить и вырвать из уха... Его вдруг тряхнуло. Орочимару метнулся в сторону, под навес раскоряченных голых деревьев, светившихся в темноте бледной корой; он упал на колени, и Джирайя, охнув, скатился на землю. — Что?.. — Там, впереди. Пятеро... проклятье, их девять. Джирайя всмотрелся в темноту и увидел остовы домов за лесополосой. Мелькнул и погас огонёк чакры: кто-то уходил из разрушенной деревни в пустоши на юге. — Там есть целые дома, — тихо сказал Орочимару. Он стоял на коленях, напряжённо вытянув шею и вглядываясь в дождь. Джирайя отважно ответил: — Нельзя терять время! — Ну конечно, — протянул Орочимару, — так удобно, когда тебя кто-то несёт... Джирайя, разозлившись, засопел, заворочался. Под рёбрами снова разболелось. — Я не просил!.. — Надо было оставить тебя лежать в той луже. Джирайя снова взглянул на деревню. Было тихо. Те, кто там были, успели отойти метров на триста. — Ладно, — тяжело сказал он. — Подождём ещё и посмотрим, что как. Они замолчали. Орочимару устроился в развилке корней. Джирайя покрутился, выискивая удобное место, не нашёл и подлез к Орочимару. — Ты что? — зарычал Орочимару, но Джирайя навалился и втиснулся рядом. Уставший Орочимару не стал ругаться, только ткнул в бок, точно в больное место, и Джирайя до хруста сжал его руку. — Уймись, — посоветовал он, когда отпустило перехваченное дыхание. Орочимару затих — по обыкновению неподвижный, как оцепеневший. Вскоре они покинули лесополосу и подошли к деревне. Джирайя, напрягая последние силы, поискал чужую чакру, но дома были пусты. Дорога была завалена, пришлось обходить. Они дошли до одного из целых домов, в темноте проваливаясь в ямы и налетая на обломки, и ввалились в пропахший дымом зал. Это был обычный для местности дом — в плане круглый, с крышей, за неимением черепицы простланной брезентом поверх досок, и маленькими окнами. В полу зияли дыры, мебель сломали, но трупов не было. Джирайя покружил, выискивая ловушки и еду, наткнулся на матрас и громко сказал: — Мой матрас! Орочимару, сев на корточки, копался в сумке. Звякали кунаи. Джирайя не дождался реакции и неуверенно сказал: — Да ладно, общий матрас... Орочимару вскинул голову. Глаза у него были такие дикие, что Джирайя весь подобрался. — Что? — Матрас, говорю... В проём летела водяная пыль. Орочимару шумно захлопнул дверь и сел на покосившийся стул. — Матрас, хорошо, — сказал он. — Спишь первым. Разбужу через три часа. Джирайя сел и с наслаждением вытянул ноги. Орочимару, напряжённо хмурясь, всё смотрел в сторону. Джирайе было лень расспрашивать, но он преодолел желание тут же упасть и заснуть. Он мягко спросил: — Орочимару, в чём дело? Он знал, что услышит. И точно, Орочимару ответил: — Ни в чём. Засни наконец. Джирайя пожал плечами. Он упал навзничь и наконец расслабился; потянулся, застонав от удовольствия, раскинул ноги и руки на манер морской звезды. С волос текло, по полу сквозило, но это было неважно — они нашли крышу и спаслись от проклятого дождя на несколько часов. — Бабу бы мне, — пробормотал он, засыпая, и улыбнулся мечтательно. Из-за беспредельной усталости сон был похож на чёрную яму. Джирайя ничего не видел и, проснувшись, ощутил себя вышедшим из глубокого обморока. Он не сразу понял, что его разбудило, и забормотал: — Что, моя очередь? Сейчас, сейчас встану... Под боком зашевелились. Джирайя ощутил чужую руку на своей груди. Он удивился было, затем сообразил. — Орочимару? Замёрз? Орочимару молчал. Наверное, как всегда при холоде, впал в апатию. Джирайя вздохнул, раскинулся, и Орочимару тут же прижался теснее, как будто на самом деле мог согреться сквозь мокрую одежду. Самым поразительным в нём, человеке тихом, молчаливом и жестоком, были эти животные повадки. Джирайя, сонный, думал о его очевидной, такой забавной манере млеть на солнце и подолгу оставаться совсем без движения. Ему вдруг вспомнилась их первая встреча после его возвращения с Мьёбоку. До Конохи он шёл пять месяцев и совсем не по прямой. Было начало осени, страна Огня наконец вступила в войну. Коноха кипела приготовлениями; казалось, что в деревне нет гражданских, одни только шиноби. От ворот Джирайя сразу направился к резиденции хокаге. Он хотел встретить Цунаде, но сталкивался только с бывшими однокашниками. Его не узнавали, а узнав, орали и хлопали по плечам. Джирайя чувствовал себя жуком, упавшим в работающий механизм. На нём был жилет деревни скрытой Травы и плащ из Тумана, он помнил мосты умирающей страны Водоворотов и крутые утёсы страны Камня — а вокруг были пузатые, под разноцветной черепицей стены Конохи, её деревья и неровные мостовые, и люди вокруг говорили с тем акцентом, который не замечаешь, пока не поживёшь где-то далеко, и мелькали знакомые лица, и было столько всего уцелевшего, что Джирайя хотел увидеть, и столько всего, что, как он знал, пропало, пока его не было. Потом он вышел к резиденции хокаге. Возле исследовательского корпуса стоял Орочимару. Они не сразу узнали друг друга. Затем Орочимару изменился в лице, и это было так странно, что Джирайя рассмеялся. — Видишь? — спросил он. — Видишь, каким сильным я стал? — Ничего особенного, — ответил Орочимару, но у него были растерянные, больные глаза. Джирайя спросил: — Скучал по мне? Орочимару зубасто улыбнулся. Он пропустил удар и бесился, что показал это. — Конечно, — ответил он, — умирал от тоски. Но Джирайе надоело стоять в позе. — А я скучал. Рад, что ты жив. Орочимару перестал скалиться. Сдавшись, он смерил Джирайю взглядом с ног до головы, помолчал, делая выводы, и сказал: — Давно тебя не было. И Джирайе почудился упрёк. — Джирайя-а, — вдруг протянул Орочимару, и Джирайя вздрогнул от неожиданности. — Что? — Я придумал... кое-что интересное. Раскололся наконец, подумал Джирайя. — Ну? Орочимару поднялся на локте. Джирайя настороженно прислушивался к тяжести его руки на своей груди. — Это насчёт того тела, — сказал Орочимару. — Женского. Джирайя застонал. — Нет, — сказал он, — только не сейчас! Я не в силах обсуждать новую технику! Вернёмся в Коноху — будешь оттачивать сколько угодно, я даже помогу с письменной формой... — Заткнись. Я не о технике. — О чём тогда? Орочимару помолчал. — Как тебе... Она тебе понравилась? — А что? — спокойно спросил Джирайя. — Отвечай. — Красивая баба, — сказал Джирайя и закрыл глаза. — Что, захотел всегда так ходить? — он осёкся и нахмурился. — Орочимару... — Да? — Убери змею. Убери, или я за себя не ручаюсь. Змея перетекла на шею, пощекотала языком подбородок. Джирайя против воли затаил дыхание. — Правильно, — одобрил Орочимару. — Не двигайся. Джирайя крепко зажмурился, не решаясь даже говорить. Орочимару давно такого не выкидывал. Это была банальная, всем приевшаяся шутка времён экзаменов, которая наскучила даже самому Орочимару. Его змеи Джирайю ни разу не кусали. — Не пугайся, — сказал Орочимару, и змея укусила. Щёку обожгло. Джирайя с рёвом взвился над матрасом и отшвырнул змею. Она со стуком упала где-то у стен и тут же зашуршала, уползая. Орочимару отпрянул. Джирайя кинулся на него, отчётливо видя открытую шею, но ноги вдруг подломились. Он упал, подвернув руку и разбив нос о пол, и остался так, булькая кровью. — Ну вот, — раздражённо сказал Орочимару. Он перекатил Джирайю на спину, и тот тут же начал захлёбываться. Орочимару подтащил сумку, подложил её Джирайе под голову. Джирайя следил за ним горящими от бешенства глазами. Его руки безвольно лежали вдоль тела, кровь текла по губам. Он вздрогнул — попытался встать, и Орочимару посоветовал: — Не дёргайся, всё равно ничего не сделаешь. Ты парализован. Он скинул плащ, и оказалось, что под ним ничего нет. Он быстро и деловито спустил штаны Джирайи к коленям, наклонился было, но спохватился и, выпрямившись, стал скручивать волосы в узел на затылке. Джирайя, хоть и кричал внутренне от ярости, засмотрелся на его вытянувшееся белое тело, сухое и крепкое. Он исхудал за полгода жизни на войне, и двигаться стал по-другому — Джирайя только сейчас заметил. Красивая тварь, подумал он. Орочимару поймал взгляд Джирайи и вдруг улыбнулся ему — искренне, хоть и криво. — Убил бы меня, да? — спросил он и погладил Джирайю по бедру. У него были очень холодные руки, Джирайю мороз пробирал от его прикосновений. Он задержал дыхание, когда Орочимару взял в ладонь его мягкий член и покатал, сминая сильными пальцами. Ему стало больно. Орочимару задумчиво смотрел жуткими своими жёлтыми глазами; он прогнулся, совсем по-женски сведя бёдра, встал на четвереньки и лёг щекой Джирайе на живот. — Какой ты, — тихо сказал он. Что-то слабое появилось в выражении его лица. Джирайе не верилось, что это — из-за него. Не может быть, думал он. Я бы понял раньше!.. Орочимару, наконец, отвернулся. Он сдвинул кожу и прикоснулся горячим мокрым языком к обнажившейся головке, но в рот брать не стал. Джирайя задышал тяжело, когда Орочимару, облизнув ладонь, стал дрочить ему. Свободную руку он запихнул Джирайе между ног, огладил и сжал яйца, густо заросшие седым волосом, стал мять, царапая длинными ногтями. Джирайе хотелось выпрыгнуть из кожи от невозможности пошевелиться. Член у него налился, выступили вены; головка стала чувствительной до боли. Орочимару гонял её в кулаке, хлюпая смазкой, и угадывал момент, когда надо было пережать член у основания. Лицо у него было довольное и хитрое, глаза сияли. Видно было — дорвался. Джирайя, скрипя зубами, смог двинуть плечом. Ему хотелось схватить Орочимару за волосы, швырнуть животом вниз и заломить руки, чтобы не мог двигаться, только скулил громко — но дальше плеча дело не пошло. Орочимару заметил движение и тут же отшатнулся, глядя настороженно. Некоторое время он наблюдал, неосознанно потирая скользкие пальцы, затем успокоился и придвинулся обратно. — Хоть раз в жизни, — сказал он, — полежи спокойно и не дёргайся. Джирайя только и мог, что с силой выдохнуть ему в лицо. Запах крови странно мешался с возбуждением. Джирайя чувствовал, что звереет. Орочимару, словно поняв это, залез на него и распластался, такой же прохладный, гладкий и сильный, как его змея. Он подвигал бёдрами, улыбаясь, поцеловал Джирайю в шею, залитую кровью. Когда выпрямился, Джирайя понял, что он сейчас что-то выкинет. — Давай же, — выдавил Джирайя. Челюсть словно подвязали, как покойнику; членом он ощущал крепкую задницу Орочимару, и от желания вставить ему, наконец, сводило мышцы. — Сейчас, — успокаивающе ответил Орочимару и сложил ладони у груди. Увидев это, Джирайя всё понял. Он бы расхохотался, если бы мог, потому что Орочимару, ставший было загадочным и совсем Джирайе незнакомым, оказался всё той же любопытной сволочью без тормозов. Раньше Сарутоби звал его испытателем. Вот он и испытывает, подумал Джирайя, новое тело и меня в придачу. Орочимару залился бледным светом. Рисунок чакры проступил на всём его теле, как узор трещин на древесной коре. Стал отчётливо виден просевший потолок над его головой, затем снова стало темно, и в этой темноте Джирайя ощутил, что теперь на нём сидит женщина. Орочимару неловко, упираясь ладонями, сполз ниже; потом он долго, прерывисто дыша, примеривался и пытался расслабиться. Джирайя весь извёлся. Если бы яд отпустил, он бы опрокинул Орочимару на спину и сделал всё сам. Он подался бёдрами вверх, как смог, и Орочимару недовольно зашипел. Он стал опускаться, и от этого медленного движения Джирайя зарычал. Орочимару тёк, он был совсем не разработанный, как целка; он вдруг застонал — тихо, но отчётливо, и Джирайя неимоверным усилием положил ладони ему на бёдра. Орочимару сообразил, замер на мгновение, собираясь с духом, затем опустился до упора и охнул, сжавшись конвульсивно. — Двигайся, — рыкнул Джирайя. Орочимару, осторожничая, двинулся раз, другой, затем поймал ритм и осмелел, стал насаживаться чаще, словно уже не боясь порваться. Джирайя перехватил его руки; мягкие волосы свесились на лицо, замели по груди. Орочимару мимоходом поцеловал его в мокрые от крови губы, и у Джирайи потемнело в глазах. Орочимару сбился с ритма и разочарованно застонал. Он привстал, выпуская из себя член, упал набок, запустил было руку между ног, но Джирайя сказал: «Дай мне», — и он послушно раздвинул колени. Джирайя сунул ещё негнущиеся пальцы в мокрые складки, с силой потёр вкруговую, и Орочимару вскрикнул, задрожав. На бледном лице вспыхнул румянец. Джирайя, нагоняя упущенное, потискал налитую грудь. Орочимару лежал, закрыв глаза и не мешая. — Знаешь, — мрачно сказал Джирайя, поглаживая торчащий сосок, — ты мог просто попросить. Орочимару приоткрыл один глаз, посмотрел насмешливо. — Да-да, — кивнул Джирайя. — Взрослые люди так делают. Развёл тут детский сад, идиот. Орочимару оттолкнул его руки, с видимым трудом встал и ушёл в темноту, где стал шуршать одеждой. Джирайя нашёл в сумке бинты и утёр кровь, проверил нос, уверенный, что придётся вправлять, но оказалось, что не надо. Он дождался, когда Орочимару вернётся и ляжет под бок — уже без мягких упругих грудей, какая жалость. — Дежурство, — напомнил Джирайя, зная, что не сможет встать. Орочимару перестал опасливо коситься и отмахнулся: — Я повесил три сигналки. Джирайя всё равно дал себе установку не засыпать глубоко. Сталкиваясь локтями и коленями, они накрылись двумя плащами. Орочимару тут же затих, и Джирайя проглотил все вопросы. Ночь прошла спокойно, а утром оказалось, что дождь прекратился.— Кого я вижу! — сказала Инузуки Хидэ. — Вы что, от Амэгакуре на брюхе ползли? — Ужасная погодка в стране Дождя, — сокрушённо ответил Джирайя. — Приходилось пережидать в гостиницах, сама понимаешь... Хидэ свистнула. Чёрно-рыжий подлеток, только что сосредоточенно метивший дерево, тут же подбежал к ней и заулыбался, вывалив язык и капая слюной. Хидэ поймала его за загривок и пошла рядом с Джирайей. Худая и сильная, она была ниже его на три головы. — Как дела на болотах? — спросила она. Джирайя пожал плечами: — Камень и Облако сцепились на южных пустошах, а в Амэгакуре вешают шпионов. Там ничего не изменится в ближайшие пять лет. Хидэ помолчала. — Горо сейчас там. Джирайя быстро посмотрел на неё. — Опаздывает? — Нет. Два дня назад ушёл. Джирайя не стал говорить, что Горо обязательно вернётся. — Он сильный. — И удачливый, — улыбнулась Хидэ. — Тупой, но удачливый. — Она вдруг скосила глаза и нахмурилась, спросила тихо: — Что не так с Орочимару? Джирайя обернулся. Орочимару шёл позади, отстав на двадцать шагов. Судя по лицу, разговаривать ему не хотелось. — Он всегда такой, — беспечно ответил Джирайя. Глядя на Орочимару, он мог думать только о том, как тот кончил от его пальцев, а потом позволил тискать свою грудь. Хидэ потянула носом воздух, заморгала и оглянулась, уже не таясь. Орочимару поймал её взгляд и холодно спросил: — В чём дело? Чёрно-рыжий подлеток тоже оглянулся и показал зубы. Хидэ дёрнула его ближе к ноге. — Странно, — сказала она. — Пахнет женщиной... — она осеклась, покраснела и рассмеялась. — А, я поняла! — она закрыла рот ладонью и склонила голову так, что Джирайя увидел её затылок. — Простите, я не должна была этого говорить. Орочимару хранил гробовое молчание, а Джирайя рассмеялся. — Ты нас подловила. — О них волнуются, — осуждающе сказала Хидэ, — а они... Впереди показалась внешняя стена Конохи и смотровые башни над открытыми воротами. Коноха была прекрасна в своём летнем цветении. После Амэгакуре она казалась ненастоящей. Джирайю захлестнуло ощущение ложной памяти. Его жилет всё ещё был влажным от дождей Амэгакуре, волосы пахли сыростью, а ноги зудели от грибка. И вот Коноха встала перед ним — нетронутая и красивая, утопающая в зелени, хрупкая в своей иллюзии спокойствия, как бумажный фонарик. На мгновение Джирайе захотелось развернуться и уйти — куда угодно, хоть обратно на бесконечную и бессмысленную войну, и он удивился самому себе. Они вышли к воротам. Тут и вдоль всей стены деревья были выкорчеваны. Из башен смотрели вниз, тлел огонёк чьей-то сигареты. В будке привратников сидели двое, смутно знакомые Джирайе по Академии. Они издали помахали, и Джирайя махнул в ответ. Пахло цветущей липой. — Третий хочет дать мне учеников, — сказала Хидэ. — Скоро и до тебя доберётся. — Ох, проклятие. — Джирайя остановился, поджидая, когда приблизится Орочимару. — Слышал? Нам учеников дадут. Орочимару нагнал их, мрачный как туча. — Куда тебе учеников? — Почему нет? — обиделся Джирайя. — Тебе самому ещё учиться и учиться. — Я сильный и добрый, — доверительно сообщил Джирайя. — Но строгий. Я буду отличным учителем. Орочимару прикрыл глаза. — А ты ведь не согласишься? — с интересом спросил Джирайя. — Не представляю тебя... Он не договорил. Разведя в стороны руки с открытыми ладонями, он медленно обернулся. Хидэ быстро и чётко сказала: — Хаяте, замри. Перед ними стояли люди в красно-белых масках и форменных белых жилетах. Некоторое время все молчали. Джирайя ждал, не особо беспокоясь. — Это же Джирайя, — сказал человек в маске тануки. — И вы, Хидэ-чан!.. — В чём дело? — миролюбиво спросил Джирайя. — Посторонний пересёк защитный барьер, — сказал человек в маске плачущего демона. — Кто с вами? Джирайя показал пальцем за спину. — Мы втроём. Никаких посторонних. — Где третий? — напряжённо спросил человек-тануки. Джирайя удивился, обернулся. — Да вот же Орочимару... Он осёкся. Орочимару не было. — Где он? — спросил Джирайя. — Хидэ, куда он делся? — Я не знаю! — Он только что был здесь! — Хидэ-чан? — Был, это правда! — Зачем ему понадобилось убегать?! — Джирайя!.. Джирайя уже вышел обратно за ворота. На его пути вырос человек-демон. Его катана была обнажена на два пальца. — Вернитесь в деревню. — Глупость какая, — сказал Джирайя и заорал: — Орочимару! Хватит валять дурака! Человек-демон вытащил катану. — Войдите в ворота, — сказал он. Джирайя, начиная злиться, вернулся к Хидэ. АНБУ топтались, явно не зная, что делать. Человек-демон сказал: — Мы проводим вас в резиденцию хокаге. — Отлично! — рявкнул Джирайя. — Мне как раз надо отчитаться! АНБУ молча встали конвоем, по три человека с каждой стороны. Чёрно-рыжий Хаяте, по молодости лет не привыкший к таким напряжённым ситуациям, неуверенно заворчал. — Тихо, — сказала Хидэ. — Это дурацкая ошибка, вот и всё. Джирайя, насупясь и растопырив локти, шёл впереди всех, так что АНБУ приходилось подстраиваться под его широкий шаг. Гражданские разбегались, а шиноби останавливались и смотрели во все глаза. Человек-тануки спросил: — Вы уверены, что это был ваш напарник? Шпион мог принять его облик и... — Обмануть меня? — спросил Джирайя. Человек-тануки замолчал. — Я ощущала чужой запах, — твёрдо сказала Хидэ. — Запах женщины. Но и запах Орочимару я ощущала тоже. Его ни с чем не спутаешь, он пахнет змеёй. Джирайя вдруг встал как вкопанный. Его лицо прояснилось, он заулыбался и воскликнул: — Я понял! — Что? — спросил человек-демон, и Джирайя глянул на него с высоты своего немалого роста. — Я объясню всё хокаге. Это случайность. Никаких шпионов, никаких заговоров. Он вспомнил ощущение собственной свёрнутой, пережатой чакры. Возможно ли, что Орочимару находился в изменённом состоянии, когда пересекал защитный барьер Конохи? Но как? — подумал Джирайя. Впереди замаячила громада резиденции хокаге, и Джирайя, осознав, что сейчас увидится с учителем, окончательно успокоился. Наверняка всё можно объяснить. Орочимару сообразил, что из-за изменённой чакры его могут принять за шпиона под хенге, и сбежал, чтобы восстановиться. Он ведь сам сказал, что техника не закончена, а незаконченные техники также опасны в использовании, как мечи с плохой калибровкой. А ещё, подумал Джирайя, он на самом деле превращался в женщину и спал со мной. Это может не иметь никакого значения, но... — Проблемный придурок, — пробормотал Джирайя, и Хидэ тихо хихикнула. В резиденции было шумно. Что-то намечалось в малом зале совета на первом этаже. Мелькали белые халаты учёных исследовательского отдела, зеленели форменные жилеты шиноби. Джирайя увидел двух людей Нара с охапками карт в руках и понял, что будет планироваться большая вылазка. На лестнице они столкнулись с Сарутоби. — Что? — удивился Сарутоби, и АНБУ склонили головы. Сарутоби оглядел Джирайю тем взглядом, который не менялся на протяжении десяти лет: что ты натворил на этот раз? — Когда они входили в деревню, барьер засёк одного нарушителя, — сообщил человек-демон. — Они утверждают, что с ними был Орочимару. Сарутоби сразу напрягся. — Где он? Джирайя пожал плечами: — Сбежал. Учитель, я всё могу объяснить. Сарутоби посмотрел в сторону зала советов. — Пусть начинают без меня, — сказал он. — Хидэ-тян, верно? Можешь идти. Хидэ тут же след простыл. Уходя, она успела ткнуть Джирайю кулачком в бок — на удачу, как расценил это Джирайя. АНБУ исчезли. Джирайя поднялся следом за Сарутоби в его кабинет и невольно засмотрелся на чистое небо, видное из больших окон. — Как всё прошло? — спросил Сарутоби, садясь за стол. Джирайя подошёл, выложил семь свитков и, подумав, высыпал три нефритовые печатки на стол. Сарутоби задрал брови. — Это что? — Сувениры. Сарутоби покрутил печатку в руке. — Полезно, — пробормотал он и поднял глаза. — Джирайя, что случилось? Врать Сарутоби Джирайя не умел и не любил. Он замешкался с ответом, отвёл взгляд и понял, что провалился в первые же секунды разговора. — Орочимару разработал новую технику, — сказал он. — Она помогла нам уйти из Амэгакуре. — Так вас засекли? — Засекли, но не узнали, кто мы. Эта техника изменяет направление чакры. Весь её рисунок. Когда мы столкнулись с их шиноби, сенсор принял нас за гражданских. Сарутоби, слушая, улыбался. — Отличная работа, — сказал он. — Он молодец, как всегда. Джирайя закатил глаза. — Конечно. — Он помассировал под рёбрами, морщась. — Это очень утомительная техника. Она подавляет чакру и вызывает боли. Долго под ней не походишь. И, я думаю, она оставляет последствия. — Поэтому Орочимару выглядел как чужак? — Возможно. Но я не уверен. Может быть, ему срочно понадобилось заскочить в онсен Канно. Сарутоби хмыкнул, откинулся на спинку кресла. Тяжело глядя из-под бровей, он спросил: — Ты уверен, что с Орочимару всё в порядке? Ты вообще уверен, что это был Орочимару? Джирайя подумал о той ночи, когда никто из них не стоял на вахте, и отбросил эти мысли. Он заснул, обнимая Орочимару, и проснулся, обнимая Орочимару, и спал тревожно, открывая глаза каждые полчаса. Никто бы не смог без шума убрать настоящего Орочимару и занять его место. — Я уверен. Сарутоби вздохнул и пожал плечами, словно соглашаясь поверить Джирайе. — Что ещё? — Ещё? — У тебя на лице написано. Джирайя заулыбался. — Ничего интересного. Мы даже не ругались. Сарутобо, рассеянно стуча пальцами, смотрел в стол и молчал. Джирайя перестал улыбаться и стал маяться. Хотелось есть и спать, а ещё бок ныл как проклятый. — Да ладно, — с досадой выпалил Джирайя. — Он в бабу превращался. Сарутоби выпрямился. — Зачем? — Маскировка. — Разве недостаточно было новой техники? — Это было не простое хенге. — Ааа, — протянул Сарутоби. Джирайя ожидал вопросов, но Сарутоби только разглядывал его, как впервые увидел. Наконец он сказал: — Ясно. Джирайя весь взмок. Голос Сарутоби означал, что ему на самом деле всё ясно. Какого чёрта, подумал Джирайя, мне давно не четырнадцать. Он сказал: — Ну, раз ясно, я пойду. Умираю с голоду. Сарутоби кивнул. Джирайя помялся, ожидая неизвестно чего, и всё-таки ушёл. Почему-то он чувствовал себя виноватым.В первый день отгула Джирайя топил тревогу в вине. Потом он понял, что чего-то не хватает, пошел в пятый сектор к излучине реки и утопил двух шпионов Камня. Глядя, как уплывают трупы, он размышлял о своей удаче. Если бы ему не попались эти придурки, день был бы потрачен зря. Стоял конец ноября. В голом лесу обнажились все несработавшие ловушки, между деревьев гулял стылый ветер. На половине обратного пути к Конохе Джирайя протрезвел. Он сразу и сильно замёрз, так, что зубы застучали. Он подумал о мертвецах в холодной воде, и ему стало тошно, потому что он даже не мог вспомнить, как убил их. В Конохе было пустынно. Джирайя вошёл в ближайший к воротам бар. К вечеру он набрался до изумления. Из всего дня над пиалами он запомнил только болезненное желание трахаться и драться. В какой-то момент он обнаружил себя на улице, на каменной скамье под фонарём. На голые бесчувственные руки падал редкий снег. Перед скамьёй стоял Минато. — Что? — хрипло спросил Джирайя, и Минато тряхнул его за плечо. — Я говорю, вставайте! Маленький сердитый Минато в своей яркой куртке был похож на канарейку. Джирайя подтащил его, упирающегося, к себе, и обнял, греясь. — От вас саке несёт, — пробубнил притихший Минато. — Ага, — вздохнул Джирайя. Его душила острая пьяная тоска. — Поздно уже. Ты почему не дома? — Да потому что вы тут сидите, как истукан! — заорал Минато Джирайе в ухо. Джирайя подпрыгнул. Минато выкрутился из его рук, отбежал и сказал: — Если не встанете, я Цунаде позову. Джирайя потёр лицо. Онемевшие пальцы кололо. — Ладно, ладно. Пойдём. Было тихо. Джирайя следовал за Минато, как за сигнальной ракетой. Минато не рисковал подходить близко — шёл впереди, постоянно оглядываясь. Снег повалил сильнее, и Джирайя вдруг удивился: — Это ж первый снег! Минато только покачал головой. Джирайя в один прыжок догнал его, опустил ладонь на лохматую макушку, и Минато, шарахнувшийся было, тут же успокоился. Около дома Джирайи он сказал: — Ну, я пошёл. — И добавил подозрительно: — Вы же не свалитесь в подъезде? — Если ты пойдёшь домой, — внушительно сказал Джирайя, — мне придётся провожать тебя, а я не хочу. Я устал. — Но родители... — заикнулся Минато. — Я им жабу пошлю. Минато со счастливым воплем бросился в подъезд. Джирайя кое-как, на коленке, написал записку и попытался вызвать жабу, но первые два раза появлялись головастики. Потом он ещё постоял на улице. Он думал, что в этот снежный вечер Орочимару может быть где угодно: в съёмной квартире, в палатке в горах, в гостинице, в допросной комнате. Он может сидеть в засаде, драться или идти по опасной территории. Ещё прямо сейчас он может быть мёртв. Джирайю скрутило от этих мыслей. Он отбежал подальше от света фонарей, и его вывернуло на жухлую траву. В голове прояснилось, страх стал отчётливее. Утираясь листком из блокнота, Джирайя с содроганием думал о шести прошедших месяцах. Он ничего не сделал, чтобы найти его. Ничего стоящего. — Старший! — позвал Минато от подъезда. Джирайя откашлялся, вытер слезящиеся глаза. Выйдя на свет, он попытался улыбнуться, отчего у Минато вытянулось лицо. — Вы не умеете пить, старший, — с разочарованием сказал он. Джирайя только цыкнул. Вечер прошел незаметно. Джирайя призвал Гамаро и Гамакати, и они увлечённо учили Минато играть в маджонг. Джирайя пытался писать. Слова не шли, ныла голова. Джирайя так глубоко ушёл в себя, что не заметил, как Минато стал клевать носом. — Эй, Джирайя, — сказал Гамаро, — малец уже спёкся. Джирайя очнулся от мыслей и понял, что снова, в тысячный, наверное, раз вспоминал, как замёрзший Орочимару прижимался к нему под двумя плащами. Он расстелил футоны. Минато, совсем сонный, дополз, ткнулся в подушку и тут же засопел. Джирайя посидел рядом, хмурясь, затем хотел было уйти, но Минато вдруг громко и отчётливо сказал: — Когда я закончу Академию, возьмёте меня в ученики? — Конечно, — ответил Джирайя. Минато, улыбаясь, перекатился, закутался в одеяло, как в кокон, и затих. Джирайя оделся и вышел на улицу. Снег закончился. Идти было недалеко, Джирайя даже не успел замёрзнуть: квартал Сарутоби был ближе, чем резиденция хокаге. Все три длинных дома клана Сарутоби горели тёплым светом сквозь бумажные окна. Джирайя пересёк двор, заросший вечнозелёным кустарником, и поднялся на террасу. К нему тут же вышли. Джирайя отказался от приглашения войти внутрь. — Пожалуйста, мне нужен Третий, — сказал он. Вышедший к нему Сарутоби был встревожен и хмур. Джирайя прямо встретил его взгляд. Решив, что нужно делать, он перестал ощущать непонятную, ничем не обоснованную вину. Он сказал: — Учитель, прошло шесть месяцев. Я пойду за ним. — А ты знаешь, куда надо идти? — спросил Сарутоби. Джирайя пожал плечами. — Не знаю — так узнаю. Я найду его и верну в Коноху. Сарутоби молчал, словно ожидая от Джирайи чего-то ещё. Джирайя помялся, почесал затылок. — Он жив, — уверенно сказал он, желая успокоить Сарутоби. — Я бы почувствовал... Сарутоби усмехнулся. — Ничего бы ты не почувствовал. Джирайя надулся. Сарутоби вздохнул и почему-то замялся, отвёл глаза — и от этого стал непривычным, как будто незнакомым. — Начни с нашей северной границы, — сказал он. Джирайя посмотрел удивлённо. — Он написал мне в конце июня, дней через десять после побега. — Написал, — повторил Джирайя и заорал: — Почему вы мне не сказали?! Кто-то сунулся в двери, но Сарутоби вскинул руку. — Потому что ты даже не писал, — жёстко сказал он. В его лице Джирайя вдруг увидел все месяцы давнего страха за ушедшего, наплевав на друзей и дом, ученика; ушедшего не ради мести или любви, даже не ради денег, а потому, что смыслом жизни у него — одно-единственное предсказание жабы-маразматика. Я ищу судьбу, подумал Джирайя. Давно тебя не было, прошептал Орочимару. — Он написал, что вернётся к ноябрю. Что закончит работу с материалом и вернётся. — С каким материалом? Сарутоби поймал Джирайю за шею и пригнул вниз. — Которым ты его накачал! — сдавленно рявкнул он. Джирайя таращился круглыми стеклянными глазами. Сарутоби столкнул его со ступеней и сам спустился следом. — О чём вы? — спросил Джирайя, и на лице его отразилось понимание. — Нет, но... Но он же... Так не бывает. Дерьмо! Какое дерьмо! — Я говорил тебе, — тихо, зло сказал Сарутоби, — научись держать член в штанах! — Да он сам! — крикнул Джирайя, и Сарутоби врезал ему в живот. Джирайя согнулся, рухнул на колени, капая слюной и не дыша. Сарутоби пошёл было кругом, сжимая и разжимая кулаки; затем он опомнился, нагнулся и взял Джирайю за плечо. — Да, — сказал он, — я верю, что Орочимару сам. — Он покачал головой, а Джирайя всё хрипел, пытаясь вдохнуть. — Всё было бы в порядке, уже вернись он пустым. Но ты же знаешь его, Джирайя. Как он... увлекается. — Работа с материалом, — прошептал Джирайя. Сарутоби, услышав это, враз сник плечами. Он отпустил Джирайю и понурился, сунув руки под полы зимнего кимоно — низкорослый стареющий человек, упустивший что-то важное. Джирайя сплюнул в сторону, тяжело поднялся и побрёл к калитке.На рассвете он растолкал Минато. — Я ухожу, — сказал он. Бледный свет заливался в окно. Квартира выстыла за ночь, и Минато, вытащенный из-под одеяла, задрожал. — На миссию? — Да. Вот твой свитер. Минато увидел сумку у дверей и мгновенно насторожился. Он знал, как собираются на рядовые миссии. — Надолго? — спросил он. — Не знаю. Минато серьёзно, как взрослый, наморщил лоб. Он потянул петлю, вылезшую из рукава, и спросил: — К весне вернётесь? Я не знаю, сколько ему носить, хотел сказать Джирайя. Всё, что он надумал за ночь, стояло в горле. Его тошнило словами, а весна была слишком далеко, чтобы верить в неё. Джирайя заткнул свитки в карманы на жилете, набросил на плечи плащ и подтолкнул Минато к двери. Он уходил в поле в сотый или даже тысячный раз, но ему впервые казалось, что он делает это во сне. Ночь прошла плохо. Он собрал сумку, проверил оружие, выстирал и высушил вещи, и понял, что оставшееся время ему делать нечего. Было два пополуночи, Минато спал в шаре из одеяла. Джирайя спать не мог. Он даже не мог сидеть на месте. Он вышел в общий коридор и закружил по нему туда-сюда. Коридор был длинный, выкрашенный в бледно-зелёный; через одну светили лампы. Джирайя шагал и смотрел на своё отражение в чистом полу. В такт шагам росла злость. Через три круга Джирайю затрясло. Он так сжимал кулаки, что ногти врезались в ладони. Он выглядел страшно со стороны, и девушка из третьей квартиры, услышавшая его шаги и посмотревшая в глазок, испугалась настолько, что подтащила к двери тяжёлый сундук. Джирайя думал: он спланировал это. Больной сучёныш спланировал, понимаете, спла-ни-ро-вал, как налёт на особняк даймё. Сидел и размышлял в заброшенном доме, почему бы и нет, а идея эта сумасшедшая появилась тогда, когда тот парень, как же его звали, умирал у нас под ногами, а ведь он всего лишь посмотрел на красивую бабу, и, наверное, подумал: отлично, после того, как закончится весь этот цирк, я зайду к ней вечерком, и цветов прихвачу, и что-нибудь сладкое, девочки ведь любят сладкое, и мы станцуем твист. Он умер, бедолага, и бабы не получил, но Орочимару, скотина, запомнил его взгляд, и что произошло в его мозгах? Джирайя догадывался, что произошло в его мозгах. На самом деле он это отлично знал. Они с Орочимару были знакомы больше десяти лет. Они умели двигаться синхронно или дополняя друг друга, могли совмещать любимые техники, заказывать друг другу еду и не ошибаться в выборе, договариваться без слов и бить в самые больные места. Они были друзьями. Однажды Орочимару сказал: какая жалость, что это нельзя попробовать на человеке. Джирайя ответил: можно, если поймаешь. И заржал. Теперь Джирайя не помнил, о чём они говорили, и хорошо, что не помнил. Он не желал знать, что Орочимару делает с собой и с тем, что... в нём. Растёт. С каждым днём становится всё больше. Оформляется. Джирайя запустил пальцы в волосы. Злость выжигала его. Она увеличивалась и заполняла собой изнутри, как демон, и Джирайя решил, что теперь знает, как живут джинчуурики. Ему хотелось сломать что-нибудь, разрушить в щебень, раскидать на километр, ему хотелось поймать Орочимару за длинные его волосы и орать на него до хрипоты, прямо в белое наглое лицо, в жёлтые обведённые глаза, чтобы понял наконец, что нельзя, нельзя делать такое! ...нельзя бить его в живот. Джирайя выдохнул. Его словно водой облили. Он потёр взмокший лоб и обнаружил, что стоит столбом посреди коридора, а в полу дымятся его продавленные следы. Что я делаю? — ужаснулся он. Его до дрожи тянуло напиться, но он никогда не пил перед выходом. Он вернулся в квартиру и маялся, соскальзывая в тяжёлую дрёму, до утра. Снаружи было бледно от изморози. Минато, взъерошенный и ещё заспанный, запрокинул голову к ясному холодному небу. Он был умным и слишком серьёзным для своих лет: он сказал: — Если вы так уйдёте, то не вернётесь. Джирайя ответил: — Глупости. Минато обернулся. У него были светлые синие глаза, похожие на воду летнего озера. — Просыпайтесь, — сказал он, и Джирайя вдруг вспомнил о первой и единственной укусившей его змее. В какой-то книге было сказано: вы не сразу заметите, что оглохли на одно ухо. Джирайю захватило абсурдное чувство, что всё это время он не замечал остаточного паралича. Застыв, он наблюдал, как Минато поднимает два пальца к глазам и страшно, решительно, голосом будущего себя выкрикивает: — Кай! Разлетелось эхо. Ничего не произошло. Джирайя перевёл дух и рассмеялся. Минато, смутившись, неуверенно заулыбался, спрятал руки за спину — вернулся в свои семь лет. — Герой, — выдохнул Джирайя, отсмеявшись. — Я не был под гендзюцу. — Точно? — Точно. — Джирайя забросил сумку за спину. — Я вернусь до весны.Она вышла на берег ещё в темноте, до рассвета, и ходила вдоль реки, пока солнце не поднялось в зенит. Тогда она ушла в дом, легла на пол на старый матрас и вскоре начала кричать. Дом был старый. В нём была рассохшаяся терраса, один зал и две маленькие комнатки. Он был построен на совесть, и потому не развалился за десятки лет запустения. На задранных углах просевшей крыши ещё угадывались резные наличники, а над дверями висел медальон со знаком, похожим на клановый символ Сенджу. Дом стоял на крутом каменистом берегу мелкой, но быстрой реки. Вокруг темнел лес. До ближайшей деревни был день пути по охотничьим тропам. Снег в этом году выпал поздно, и люди из деревни ещё поднимались сюда за дичью, но заброшенный дом обходили стороной. Женщина в зале обнимала худыми руками свой огромный живот. Горели расставленные вкруг свечи; из-под татами по полу ползли нарисованные тушью иероглифы. Поперёк живота, раздутого и натянутого, как барабан, лежал раскрытый исписанный свиток. Женщина кусала деревяшку и скулила. Белели раскинутые ноги. Схватки пропали, и это было хуже, чем боль. Когда она уже решила дописать несколько иероглифов к печати трёх очагов, схватки вернулись. Женщина хрипло, надсаживаясь, закричала. Взметнулись руки со скрюченными пальцами; треснула деревяшка. Она откинула её далеко в сторону, уставилась в потолок. Глаза у неё были мутные от боли и жёлтые, как янтарь. Вскоре она родила первого. Ребёнок не кричал, но кряхтел. Она не поднялась, чтобы посмотреть на него, только отодвинула в сторону ногой. Она всё знала о своих детях — они были неудачны. Через три часа родился второй. Он заплакал. Она села, чтобы перерезать пуповину, и увидела, что первый — маленький, синюшный и сморщенный, — не дышит. Она обрезала пуповину и, дождавшись, вытолкнула послед. Второй сучил руками и разевал бледный беззубый рот. Он был крупнее. Весь мокрый, он дрожал — по полу сквозило. Женщина смотрела на него, скривив рот. Она попыталась встать, но не смогла. Тогда она на четвереньках, примяв свиток, доползла до деревянной бадьи, стоявшей у сёдзи, вернулась, таща её за собой, и положила в неё первого. После этого она долго отдыхала. Чёрные волосы, мокрые от пота, облепили её голую худую спину и скуластое злое лицо. Почти в прострации, она тёрла окровавленные бёдра мокрым измятым кимоно, затем бросила его на второго. Шатаясь, она встала. У стены, рядом с завалами исписанной бумаги, лежали сложенные вещи и сумка, с какой путешествуют шиноби. Женщина надела тёплое хаори, подняла, охнув, бадью, и вышла наружу. Было холодно. По ущелью полз туман, который с равнины видели как облако. Женщина, оскальзываясь на камнях босыми ногами, стала спускаться к реке. Первый перекатывался в бадье; она мельком посмотрела на его бледное лицо в засохшей крови и слизи, мягкие безвольные ручки, обрывок пуповины из живота, и отвернулась. Она спустилась к самой воде, где среди поредевших камней начинался ил. Вздрогнув, она вошла в реку. Когда ледяная вода дошла до колен, она наклонила бадью и выкатила ребёнка. Он упал с громким плюхом, пошёл ко дну, затем течение подхватило его и унесло. Она посмотрела ему вслед и вернулась в дом. Второй плакал из-под кимоно. Женщина вытащила его, вгляделась в лицо. Ей показалось, что он похож на отца. Наверное, и глаза чёрные. Поддавшись любопытству, она пальцами раскрыла его зажмуренный глаз и увидела, что он жёлтый, со змеиным зрачком. Это не имело значения. Ребёнок был неудачен. Она положила его в бадью и во второй раз пошла к реке.Джирайя увидел развилку и некоторое время соображал, куда ему надо идти. Сообразив, пошел налево. Деревня осталась далеко позади. Джирайе там не обрадовались, но приняли вежливо. До этой глухой провинции страны Гор война не докатилась, но беглые шиноби тут проходили. На всю деревню — все двенадцать домов — не было ни одного бойца, зато нашёлся старый медик, бывший подданный страны Дождя. Предчувствуя нехорошее, Джирайя попросил его пойти к заброшенному дому младшей ветви Сенджу вместе, но медик отказался. — Она убила двух наших ребят, — сказал он. — Мы поняли намёк. Джирайя не стал настаивать. Он знал, что у него ещё есть время. Ещё целый месяц. Если в горах действительно скрывается Орочимару и ему понадобится врач, Джирайя заставит их встретится — и неважно, кого к кому придётся вести. Он очень устал. Он собирался остаться в деревне на сутки и передохнуть, отплатив за это работой, но, услышав, что в горах действительно живёт беременная женщина странной внешности и жуткой силы, пошёл дальше. Его тянуло вперёд. Притяжение было таким сильным, что жгло в груди. И ещё то происшествие в стране Рисовых Полей. В Йотогаве Джирайя столкнулся с АНБУ. Столкновение было неожиданным и нерадостным; в результате него Джирайя охромел на правую ногу. Медик из деревни залечил разбитое колено, но не до конца, и теперь в нём стреляло в самый неожиданный момент. Но размышлять об АНБУ у Джирайи не было сил, и он вновь стал думать об Орочимару. Он много раз представлял их встречу. Писатель по натуре, он разыгрывал её в лицах в своём мысленном театре. На тех подмостках Орочимару, очаровательно пузатый, с набухшими сиськами, в белом кимоно, подвязанном над животом, то извинялся, признавая, что ужасно поступил с Джирайей, то огрызался, сверкая глазами, то, усталый и измученный, просил о помощи, и Джирайя на руках нёс его к врачу. Об этом приятно было думать. В таких сценках Орочимару выглядел настоящей женщиной. Но были и другие сценки. Джирайя видел их, оставаясь один в темноте: засыпая в заброшенном доме, в гостиничном номере или под открытым небом. Он берёгся от них, но они просачивались в его мысли, как яд. Он видел настоящего Орочимару с его бесчеловечной улыбкой и руками патологоанатома: он стоит над рабочим столом, тускло светит лампа, на стол подстелена бумага, чтобы не капало, а на бумаге лежит маленькое и выпотрошенное, и, если не хочется увидеть что-то травмирующее, лучше не подходить ближе. Ловя себя на первом мысленном шаге к столу, Джирайя переворачивался на другой бок. В глубине души он знал, что реальность будет хуже всех его выдуманных кошмаров. Зашумело, пахнуло близкой водой. Сквозь деревья стала видна бурная река. Джирайя понял, что свернул правильно. Он вышел на берег и прищурился на свет. Река, присмиревшая по зиме, пенилась вокруг камней, и Джирайе показалось, что всю его усталость уносит холодной водой. Он направился вверх по течению. Идти пришлось недолго, вскоре на противоположном берегу показался дом. Резко и сильно забилось сердце. Джирайя остановился. Взмокла грудь под водолазкой, и он оттянул от горла высокий ворот. Дом, тихий и тёмный, прятался под сенью леса. Он казался нежилым. Джирайя даже решил, что это какой-то другой дом, охотничий или рыбацкий, но тут из него вышла женщина. Джирайя медленно пошёл вперёд. У женщины были длинные чёрные волосы и белая кожа. Она знакомо двигалась. Она несла в руках какую-то бадью. Что-то было не так, и только спустя несколько бесконечных секунд Джирайя понял — она не была беременна. Джирайю прошило предчувствие беды. Он словно обнаружил себя стоящим над столом, с которого капает, несмотря на бумагу, кровь. Он не хотел смотреть, что лежит под лампой. Видит Будда, он этого не хотел. — Орочимару, — сказал он и побежал. — Орочимару! Женщина вошла в воду. Бадья перевесила, и она чуть не уронила её. Мелькнуло что-то белое и маленькое. Джирайя похолодел. Он рванулся вперёд, и колено тут же подогнулось, как сломанный шарнир. Джирайя чуть не упал. Поймав равновесие, он понёсся вдоль реки. — Орочимару! — заорал он, надрываясь. — Орочимару, стой! Панический голос в голове закричал: это может быть что угодно! Мусор! Тушка кролика! Что угодно, что угодно! Джирайя знал, что это не тушка кролика. Он с разбега прыгнул на воду. Волны поддались под ногами, Джирайя поскользнулся, выправился и побежал между пенных буранов. Орочимару, словно не видя его, наклонил бадью. Из неё выкатился младенец и плюхнулся в воду. Джирайя был так близко, что успел различить разводы крови на бледной сморщенной коже. Он упал на колени и по пояс ушёл в воду. Взметнулись брызги. Он видел, как мелькнуло маленькое тело, подхваченное потоком, и с воплем сунул руки в воду. Его обожгло холодом. На мгновение он поверил, что упустил ребёнка, это был момент леденящего ужаса и тошнотворного, подлого облегчения, но затем ему в ладони с размаху ткнулось что-то мягкое. Джирайя сжал пальцы и выдернул младенца из воды. Он был синюшный, худой и жалкий; он разинул лиловый от холода рот, закашлялся и заголосил, как сирена. Джирайя смотрел на него во все глаза. Орочимару, про которого он совсем забыл, спросил удивлённым сорванным голосом: — Джирайя? Джирайя словно очнулся. До этого ему казалось, что всё вокруг грохочет и рушится, но это всего лишь кровь стучала в ушах. Даже река, оказывается, шумела тихо, почти стеснительно. Он посмотрел на Орочимару, и тот попятился от его взгляда. Младенец слабо дёргался. У него были мокрые скользкие бока, как у лягушки. Джирайя поднялся и прошёл мимо Орочимару, как мимо пустого места. От ледяной воды немели ноги. В дом он вошёл, пинком распахнув взвизгнувшие сёдзи. Он сразу увидел промокшее татами в окружении свечей, пустой медицинский свиток и иероглифы на полу, но его это не заинтересовало. Он походил по залу и заметил тёплые вещи, лежавшие в густых тенях у стен. Он вытащил первые попавшиеся штаны и хаори, обтёр пищащего младенца и замотал его в ткань. Ему вспомнился спящий Минато, и он устало улыбнулся. Улыбка быстро погасла. Он сгрёб стопки исписанной бумаги, утрамбовал из них гнездо и положил в него свёрток. Уже собравшись уходить, увидел жёлтый проблеск — младенец смотрел на него глазами-щёлками. Джирайя озверел. Он вышел наружу. Орочимару, странно кренясь, стоял на берегу. Джирайя неторопливо пошёл к нему, склонив голову и опустив плечи. Его руки качались, как тяжёлые маятники. Орочимару пригнулся было, готовясь драться, но вдруг у него затряслись ноги. Дрожь поднялась по бёдрам к животу, и дальше — к плечам, и Орочимару, разом осунувшись, растерянно распахнув глаза, осел на камни. Его взгляд заметался. Он пополз назад, отталкиваясь босыми ступнями и раздирая бёдра о землю. Полы хаори распахнулось, и Джирайя увидел его красную, растянутую промежность. — Не подходи! — хрипло вскрикнул Орочимару. — Джирайя! Джирайя, подожди! Я всё объясню! Джирайя широко и весело оскалился. Орочимару пришёл в ужас. Он вскинул правую руку, и из рукава на землю шлёпнулся безобидный уж. Орочимару помертвел. Он нашарил было камень, но тут же выронил и удивлённо посмотрел на свои дрожащие руки, как на чьи-то чужие. Джирайя прыгнул. Разлетелась галька. Орочимару не успел ни закрыться ни отпрянуть — его рвануло и опрокинуло, он хрипло закричал, вскинув руки. Джирайя за волосы тащил его к реке. Орочимару попытался встать, но Джирайя дёрнул его, чуть не сняв скальп. Тяжёлые густые волосы были в два оборота намотаны на его кулак. Орочимару, шипя и вскрикивая, ехал по камням. Пояс остался лежать на земле, хаори распахнулось, открыв затвердевшие, тёмные на фоне белой кожи соски, торчащие рёбра и живот в шрамах и туши. Джирайя дотащил его до реки. Почувствовав воду, Орочимару замолчал и стал так драть руку Джирайи, что у того вдруг дёрнулся и онемел безымянный палец. Джирайя, не моргнув, втащил Орочимару в воду, и тот забулькал, уйдя под волну. Ногами он взбивал фонтаны брызг. Джирайя не остановился, пока его самого не стало сносить; тогда он подтянул Орочимару, которого уже развернуло по направлению течения, намотал волосы туже и опустил его голову глубоко под воду. Потекли секунды. Шумела река. Джирайя, страшно улыбаясь, смотрел на неслышно дёргающийся белый силуэт и собственную кровь, быстро исчезающую в воде. Он простоял бы так час, два или три, пока не свалился бы с переохлаждением, если бы у него вдруг не щёлкнуло в голове. Он понял, что не знает, что делает. Он посмотрел на Орочимару и впервые увидел его по-настоящему. Сквозь воду он был похож на труп. Вдруг испугавшись, Джирайя поднял его. Увидев белое неподвижное лицо, он чуть не заорал от страха. Он подхватил Орочимару на руки и, спотыкаясь, вытащил на берег. Там он поспешно уложил его, тяжёлого и холодного, животом на своё колено и надавил на худую спину. Полилась вода. Когда поток иссяк, Джирайя сбросил его на землю, перевернул на спину и уже прицелился было делать искусственное дыхание, как вдруг Орочимару громко, со стоном вздохнул и распахнул глаза. От неожиданности Джирайя шарахнулся и плюхнулся на задницу. Орочимару перекатился набок и стал, дрожа, выкашливать воду. В доме громко заплакал ребёнок. Детей травмируют ссоры родителей, подумал Джирайя и чуть не расхохотался истерически. Детей травмируют родители. Вот и всё. Орочимару перестал кашлять. Джирайя попытался поймать его взгляд, но Орочимару смотрел в землю. Его серое, залепленное волосами лицо ничего не выражало. Джирайя осторожно протянул руку, и Орочимару сжался и еле слышно зашипел. На Джирайю накатила усталость. — Ладно, — сказал он. — Хватит. — Он вдруг заметил шрамы и стёршиеся печати на животе Орочимару и с трудом подавил вновь вспыхнувший гнев. Он поделился удивлением: — Я чуть не убил тебя. — Не смог, — пробормотал Орочимару. — Я мог. Просто пожалел. Я ж не такой, как ты. — Дурак, — ответил Орочимару. — Как всегда. Джирайя кивнул, и ему стало грустно. — Точно. Вставай. Орочимару покачал головой. Его била крупная дрожь. Джирайе вновь пришлось брать его на руки.Положив Орочимару на футон и выпрямив ноющую спину, Джирайя растерялся. Голодно икал младенец; Орочимару, мокрый и трясущийся, лежал пластом. В зале было холодно, сквозило из сломанных сёдзи. Джирайя перетянул бинтом исполосованное запястье и попытался сообразить, что делать в первую очередь. — Так, — сказал он. — Орочимару, сними эту тряпку. Он вытащил из сумки свою запасную зимнюю форму и обнаружил, что Орочимару всё так же лежит без движения. Джирайя подошёл осторожно, как к аллигатору, и позвал: — Орочимару? Тот спал. Джирайя хлопнул его по щеке и ужаснулся, какой холодной была кожа. Он сам стащил с него насквозь мокрое, порванное хаори, растёр сухими вещами и одел в форму. Затем он кинулся обыскивать дом. Через пару минут в зале трещала жаровня. Джирайя решил, что этого мало. Он нашёл большой булыжник на берегу реки, рассёк его на ровные плиты и принёс одну в зал. На ней он разжёг костёр из мебели и наскоро разрубленных толстых веток. Потеплело, огонь прогнал сырость. Мерцающий свет убаюкивал. Джирайя даже задремал, держа младенца на коленях, но быстро очнулся. Спящий Орочимару больше не выглядел трупом. От жара костра у него порозовели щёки. Джирайя подумал, подсел на футон и задрал его форменный свитер. Заколыхались маленькие груди; Орочимару не проснулся. Джирайя усадил его, надёжно привалив к себе, прицелился и ткнул младенца лицом в сосок. Он надеялся, что человек с рождения соображает, что делать с материнской сиськой — и точно: младенец, пошлёпав губами, поймал сосок и зачмокал. Джирайя с опозданием подумал: а вдруг у Орочимару нет молока? Но, несмотря на худобу, молоко было. — Что? — пробормотал проснувшийся Орочимару. Он сделал движение оттолкнуть ребёнка, но Джирайя сжал его горло свободной рукой. — Ни звука, — сказал он ему на ухо. У Орочимару губы повело от отвращения. — Убери его, — сипло сказал он, и Джирайя сжал пальцы. Орочимару окаменел. Джирайя подождал немного и ослабил хватку, решив, что Орочимару всё понял. Вскоре младенец затих — так и заснул у груди. Джирайя отпустил Орочимару и пересел на своё место. — Надеюсь, всё это стоило твоих исследований, — сказал он. Орочимару молча лёг и закрыл глаза. Через пару часов Джирайя понял, что дело плохо. — У него жар, — сказал он, ненавидя Орочимару от всей души. — Высоченная температура, я чувствую. Всё из-за тебя, ублюдка. Орочимару безучастно лежал с другой стороны костра. Сухо блестя глазами, он сказал: — Отлично. Может, к утру умрёт. Джирайя стиснул зубы и решил больше не смотреть на него. Младенец на его коленях был горячим, как печка. Он сипел придушенным котёнком. Этот сип пугал Джирайю. Лучше бы он орал, как всё нормальные здоровые дети, тогда Джирайя не умирал бы от паники и беспомощности. Медицинских свитков в доме больше не было — Джирайя сам обыскал от крыши до фундамента, не поверив Орочимару на слово. Оставался единственный выход, и Джирайя стал собираться. — В деревню? — спросил Орочимару. Джирайя не обратил внимания, и Орочимару сообщил в пустоту: — Я двух их парней зашиб... — Молодец. — ...они тебе не обрадуются. — А кто их спрашивать будет. Джирайя быстро перетянул обмотку на бедре, подхватил младенца и протиснулся в заклинившие сёдзи. Снаружи падал снег, земля и деревья уже побелели. Джирайя огляделся и сказал: — Если останешься, то к утру тебя завалит. Откопают только весной. Орочимару молчал. Джирайя посмотрел на него через плечо. — Как хочешь. Он уже спустился с террасы, когда Орочимару слабо позвал его. Джирайя вернулся. — Помоги мне, — через силу выговорил Орочимару. Джирайя, хоть и ждал чего-то подобного, изумился. Он никогда не видел Орочимару таким слабым. — Что ты с собой сделал? Орочимару пожал плечами. — Роды, — сказал он. — А до этого? — Неважно. Ничего не получилось. Джирайя посмотрел на ребёнка. — Поэтому ты его топил? — Я топил его, — сказал Орочимару, — потому что он мне не нужен. Ребёнок выпростал руку из ткани, и Джирайя осторожно заткнул её обратно. Ребёнок захныкал. — Ты хотел что-то сделать с ним, — с нажимом сказал Джирайя. — Родить его с улучшенным геномом или особыми показателями. Но ты облажался. Он совсем обычный. Только глаза, как у тебя. Тоже будет играться со змеями и думать, что это круто... Он отступил в сторону, и в проём вылетела горящая головня. Орочимару, тяжело дыша, потянулся за второй, но Джирайя оказался рядом и перехватил его руку. — Забирай этого крысёныша и делай с ним что хочешь! — выплюнул Орочимару ему в лицо. — Топи или веди в Академию! Расти таким же идиотом! Но без меня! Я не хочу его видеть! Джирайя побагровел и заорал, как с трибуны: — Это же ты всё заварил! — Я не просил искать меня! — Ты собирался убить его! Своего сына! — Да ты, — задохнулся Орочимару, — ты трахаешь всё, что движется! И что, ни одна ещё не залетала? Скольких ты уже таскал на аборты, а за мной бегаешь, как... Джирайя размахнулся и врезал ему по лицу. Орочимару свалился, загрохотав лбом о пол. Раскинулись волосы. Потерявшись от удара, он неуверенно дотронулся до головы и растёр по пальцам кровь. На скуле стал проступать отпечаток. — Заткнись, — хрипло сказал Джирайя. — Заткнись нахер. Вякнешь ещё слово, и я сверну тебе шею. Орочимару в упор посмотрел на него белыми от ненависти глазами, но не проронил ни звука. Джирайя машинально покачал захныкавшего ребёнка; глаза у него были остановившиеся, рот дёргало, как у припадочного. — Я понесу тебя, — наконец сказал он. — Вырубишь меня — замёрзнешь в снегу. Кивни, если понял. Орочимару медленно кивнул. Некоторое время Джирайя сооружал перевязь для ребёнка. Повесив его на шею, он повернулся к Орочимару спиной и сел на корточки. Орочимару залез на него, свесил холодные руки на грудь, и Джирайя подхватил его под коленями. Они вышли в снегопад.Деревня показалась уже в темноте. Джирайя издали увидел высокие остроугольные крыши и светящиеся жёлтым светом окна. Орочимару на его спине спал. Он был горячим даже сквозь слои одежды. Он вдруг стал падать набок, и Джирайя не успел поймать его — он тяжело свалился в снег и застонал. Джирайя выругался. От усталости кружилась голова. Он подтянул ребёнка с самому подбородку, поднял Орочимару из снега и понёс на руках. Орочимару мутно смотрел на него, словно не узнавая. — Это я, — на всякий случай сказал Джирайя. — Я знаю, — слабо ответил Орочимару. У него горело лицо. Он привалился головой к плечу Джирайи, уткнувшись носом в свёрток с ребёнком. — У меня кровь... снова идёт. — Откуда? — брякнул Джирайя и осёкся. Орочимару не ответил — снова заснул. Потянулись огороды, укрытые снегом, и редкие деревянные заборы. Джирайя прошёл мимо спящих домов и постучал в тот, где горел свет. Стучать пришлось ногой. Он не услышал, но почувствовал, как в доме сначала затаились, потом заметались, не желая подходить к двери. Он громко сказал: — Пожалуйста, мне нужна помощь. В доме напротив зажёгся свет. Затем — в доме выше по улице. Из-за двери спросили: — Кто это? — Я проходил здесь сегодня днём, — ответил Джирайя. — Я разговаривал с вашим врачом. Откройте дверь, я не причиню вам вреда. Теперь свет горел почти во всех домах. Люди выходили на улицу, и страх того, что война нашла их деревню, делал их опасными. Джирайя оглянулся, машинально считая силуэты в полутьме, и сошёл со ступеней. Орочимару висел на его руках, как покойник. — Мне нужен медик, — громко сказал Джирайя и увидел у кого-то вилы. — Кто это у тебя? — спросили из темноты. — У него ребёнок. — Это та, из дома Сенджу!.. — Она убила Ибараги! — крикнул кто-то. — И Тодзиро! Люди зашумели. В свете из окон заблестел чей-то нож. Джирайя вздохнул. — Я шиноби! — крикнул он, перекрывая гомон. — Я не хочу причинять вам вреда. Но я могу. Скажите, где ваш медик... или мне начать вынимать кому-нибудь из вас суставы? — Не стоит, — сказал седой человек в синей стёганой куртке. — Не прибавляйте мне работы. Джирайя узнал его. Он был длинный, тощий и сутулый. На печальном, измятом морщинами лице блестели круглые очки. Он махнул рукой и ушёл куда-то в темноту, и Джирайя двинулся следом. Люди пятились от него, кто-то быстро, захлёбываясь, бормотал неразборчивое. Джирайя увидел, как длинный тощий человек вошёл в одноэтажный дом, крайний в деревне. У него не было возможности осторожничать. Чувствуя взгляды в спину, он пересёк дорожку между двумя маленькими полями под пашню и вошёл в дом. Орочимару стукнулся ногами о косяк, но не очнулся. Внутри было тесно и чисто. Горели свечи на столе. Длинный тощий человек сказал: — Кладите их на матрас. Он быстро и деловито мыл руки над большим тазом. Джирайя уложил Орочимару на пол и, поколебавшись, рядом же положил ребёнка. Они жутко смотрелись вместе: оба тяжело дышали, оба горели температурным румянцем. Забывшись, Джирайя отвёл волосы со влажного лица Орочимару. Синяк на его скуле налился чернотой, запеклась кровь на разбитом лбу. Джирайя вздохнул про себя: не надо было его бить. — Так, — сказал тощий человек. — Я вижу, вы не сдержались. Джирайя мрачно покосился и отошёл. — Что вы уходите? — спросил тощий человек. — Рассказывайте. Джирайя сначала не сообразил, что нужно рассказывать. — А, — сказал он, — она родила сегодня. И... вот. — Вот, — повторил тощий человек. — Вы не умничайте, — угрюмо сказал Джирайя. — Ей было плохо ещё до того, как я ей врезал. Тощий человек кивнул. — Вас это оправдывает. — Да что вы знаете! — заорал Джирайя, и тощий человек вздрогнул. Джирайя заметил испуг за толстыми стёклами его очков, и ему стало не по себе. Что видит этот человек? Военного, избившего только что родившую женщину. Не расскажешь ведь... — Работайте, —сказал Джирайя. — Не буду мешать. Он хотел было выйти на улицу, но тощий человек сказал: — Идите в другую комнату. Кажется, чайник на столе ещё горячий. Уходя, Джирайя задержался в дверях, но не нашёл, как высказать переполнившую его благодарность. Он выпил весь чай. Чтобы не заснуть, он достал с полок первые попавшиеся свитки. Иероглифы двоились перед глазами. В какой-то момент Джирайя обнаружил, что в третий раз читает алгоритм сращивания сломанных костей. Он отбросил свиток и открыл окно. Холодный воздух сдул сонливость. В ночи бесшумно летел крупный снег. Так Джирайю и застал тощий человек. — Мало вам было горного воздуха? — спросил он. Джирайя рывком обернулся. Он вдруг так перепугался, что даже голос потерял. — Они в порядке, — сказал тощий человек, увидев его лицо. — С матерью, правда, похуже... Она впервые рожала? — Да. — Да... Оно и видно. Очень много разрывов. В первый раз и близнецов — это трудно. — Он помолчал. — Второй, я так понимаю, не выжил? Джирайя моргал, ничего не понимая. — Какой второй? — шепотом спросил он. Тощий человек внимательно посмотрел на него. — У неё ведь была двойня? Джирайя потерянно оглянулся. Зачем-то он закрыл окно, затем подошёл к столу и потряс пустой чайник над чашкой. Руки у него вздрагивали. — Вы не знали? — спросил тощий человек. Джирайя покачал головой. — Когда я пришёл, — пролаял он, — никакого второго не было. Уже не было. — Уже?.. — Там река рядом. Тощий человек вздохнул. — Оставайтесь у меня на ночь, — сказал он и вернулся к больным.В три пополуночи Джирайя ввалился в тёмную тихую комнату, по дуге добрёл до своего матраса и упал на него, не в силах перевернуться и лечь нормально. Ему казалось, что пол качается, и стены качаются, и потолок тоже — но качка была только в его усталой голове. Он закрыл глаза, не веря, что этот долгий день наконец закончился. Из темноты спросили: — Где он? Ну почему именно сейчас? — мутно подумал Джирайя. Орочимару закашлялся. — Джирайя? Куда ты его дел? — Какая тебе разница? — пробормотал Джирайя. Зашуршало, Орочимару напряжённо поднялся на локтях. — Он тоже... — он осёкся. Стало слышно тиканье часов. — Он тоже — что? — равнодушно спросил Джирайя. — Тоже умер, как его... брат? Сестра? Кто это был? Орочимару резко ответил: — Я не убивал его. Он уже был мёртв. — Мои соболезнования нам обоим, — тихо сказал Джирайя. Орочимару в замешательстве помолчал. — Так этот... тоже умер? Джирайя смирился, что поспать ему не дадут. Он перевернулся на спину и потянулся, слушая тупую боль в пояснице. — У тебя пропало молоко. Мне пришлось отнести его к женщине с нормальными сиськами. Повезло, что тут есть такая. — Так может, у неё и оставишь? — Заткнись, — ровно сказал Джирайя. Подумав, объяснил: — Она выкинет его в снег, как только мы уйдём. В горах своих бы прокормить, куда ещё чужих... Мысли стали путаться. Джирайя услышал шум реки. По поверхности воды метались солнечные зайчики, между камней блеснула серебристая чешуя. Джирайя протянул руку, чтобы поймать рыбу, но ощутил только холод. Вздрогнув, как при падении, он проснулся. Что-то светилось в темноте. Джирайя заморгал. Свет обрисовал человеческую фигуру, толчком стал ярче и погас. Джирайя с опозданием ощутил всплеск чакры. — Эй, — сказал он, — зачем ты?.. Орочимару сел на своём матрасе. — Наконец-то, — выдохнул он. Попытавшись встать, он шумно упал обратно. Тогда он пополз к Джирайе, дробно стуча ладонями и коленями, и Джирайя вскочил, приготовившись бить. Орочимару остановился. — Ну? — спросил Джирайя. Орочимару спокойно дополз до его матраса и привалился к ноге. — Ты не бойся, — со слабой насмешкой сказал он. — Сегодня я добрый. Джирайя оттолкнул его и сел, всё ещё настороженный. Орочимару мерцал глазами, как кошка. Мужчиной он был ещё худее, чем женщиной. — Как ты вообще нашёл меня? — спросил он, и Джирайя поразился: — Что? — Я хорошо запутал следы, — задумчиво сказал Орочимару. — Я петлял несколько месяцев. А ты взял и нашёл меня. Как? — Тебе прямо сейчас рассказывать? — Да. Мне интересно. Джирайя застонал, потёр слипающиеся глаза. Зевая, он заунывно забормотал: — Тебя искал не только я. В стране Рисовых Полей мне попались АНБУ. Четверо их было, группа с заданием... — Они тебе попались, — хитро спросил Орочимару, — или ты им? — Ну я им, — миролюбиво согласился Джирайя. — Они стали вести меня. Я заметил, но не сразу понял, что им от меня надо. Решил, что это они на всякий случай. Вдруг я крыса, на сторону бегаю, информацию продаю, ещё что. Но они от меня не отставали, и мне это надоело. — И ты ушёл? — Да. И одного прихватил, чтобы поболтать. Орочимару пошевелился, устраиваясь удобнее. — Ты похитил человека Данзо. Представляешь, что тебе устроят, когда ты вернёшься? — Когда мы вернёмся, — с нажимом сказал Джирайя. — Или ты собрался выйти замуж за богатого даймё и стать домохозяйкой? Орочимару вздохнул. — Не отвлекайся. Так вы поговорили, и он сказал... — Что они тоже ищут тебя. И как раз направляются в страну Земли, в район Итикари, потому что там видели огромных змей, которые разрушили пару храмов и исчезли. Орочимару хмыкнул. — И что же? Джирайя снисходительно посмотрел на него и осторожно тронул чернеющий синяк на скуле. Орочимару поморщился. — А ты забыл, да? — спросил Джирайя, и Орочимару насторожился: — Что? — Именно под Итикари мы с тобой и Цунаде выполняли ту миссию в пользу страны Гор. Я подумал: зачем бы тебе понадобилось крушить какие-то там храмы? Ясное дело, это ложный след. Но Итикари... Я решил проверить, совпадение это или нет, и пришёл сюда, в страну Гор. И нашёл тебя. Орочимару долго молчал. Наконец он удивлённо сказал: — Я не думал о той миссии, когда отправлял змей в Итикари. Мне казалось, это случайный выбор. — Ты не всегда бываешь самым умным, — благодушно сказал Джирайя, и Орочимару тут же ощерился: — Всё равно чаще, чем ты! Джирайя рассмеялся: — Конечно! В соседней комнате завозился тощий человек, и они притихли. Орочимару сидел очень близко и смотрел выжидающе, хмуро сведя тонкие брови; блестели тяжёлые серьги... — Я боялся за тебя, — признался Джирайя. — Пока тебя не было... Я не знал, куда деваться. Запорол две миссии. И Сарутоби скрыл твоё письмо. — Правильно, — фыркнул Орочимару, — я писал ему, а не тебе. Джирайя погладил его по затылку; он запустил пальцы в тяжёлые гладкие волосы, и Орочимару еле заметно напрягся. Джирайя вспомнил, как тащил его по камням; потом был провал, а следом, словно выпавшая из темноты фотография: его мёртвое лицо над бегущей водой. — Зря ты всё это, — сказал Джирайя, но не договорил. Орочимару обнял его. У него были худые сильные руки. Он прижался плоской грудью, совсем близко мелькнули неподвижные раскосые глаза — он поцеловал Джирайю, как школьник, не разжимая губ. Джирайя не удержал равновесия, опрокинулся на спину, но тут же перекатился и подмял Орочимару под себя. Приятно было опуститься на него всем весом, ощутить его под собой: сильного и гибкого, обманчиво медлительного — и неуловимо одинакового с той женщиной. Джирайя вжал его в матрас, стал целовать, толкаясь языком в горячий рот. Орочимару отвечал, шумно дыша. Он развёл ноги и стиснул Джирайю коленями, словно тот собирался куда-то деться, и надо было его удержать. Джирайя животом почувствовал его твёрдый член и потёрся, дурея. Он задрал его свитер, обнял за гладкие бока. Хотелось сожрать его, такого ладного, белокожего и отзывчивого; Джирайя прихватил зубами плоский сосок, и Орочимару охнул в ладонь. Джирайя усмехнулся, стал сосать и перекатывать по языку, натирая второй свободной рукой. Орочимару заметался, вцепился Джирайе в волосы. Взгляд у него поплыл. Джирайя сжал зубы, и Орочимару дёрнулся под ним, вскрикнул сквозь пальцы. — Хватит, — лихорадочно пробормотал он. Джирайя сжал его член сквозь штаны. Орочимару, раскинувшись, бесстыже улыбнулся и подался под его руку. От этой улыбки Джирайю повело, как пьяного. Он навалился было, полез за резинку штанов, но Орочимару вдруг оттолкнул его. Джирайя обалдел. Орочимару свёл и поднял ноги, демонстрируя отличную растяжку, стянул штаны и перевернулся на живот. Расставив колени, он прогнулся в пояснице и покачал круглой задницей, приглашая. Джирайя пялился, восхищённо скалясь. — Ну ты, — проурчал он, спуская свои штаны. — Колобок с сюрпризами... Он пару раз оттянул кожу, собрал смазку с головки и нашарил сжатую дырку. Орочимару вздрогнул, посмотрел через плечо. Джирайя с силой потёр, разминая сжатые мышцы, пропихнул пальцы внутрь и нажал на горячие гладкие стенки. Орочимару ёжился, вздрагивал ногами; он вдруг дёрнулся, как под током, и Джирайя догадался прижать то место ещё раз. Орочимару отчётливо застонал, потянулся подрочить себе, но Джирайя тихо рявкнул: — Руки! Орочимару стукнул его пяткой. Джирайя хотел было от души врезать по отставленной белой заднице, но хлопок был бы слышен во всём доме. Он подхватил Орочимару под животом, разложил удобнее и потёрся членом между ягодиц. — Тише, — прошептал он, целуя взмокшую спину. Он примерился головкой и нажал, помогая пальцами. Орочимару рванулся было в сторону, но Джирайя удержал его. — Расслабься, — успокаивающе бубнил он, плавно въезжая в тугую дырку. — Дыши, киса... — Какая я тебе киса, — завёлся было Орочимару и вскинулся, дрожа. Джирайя успел зажать ему рот. Он втолкнул член наполовину и покачался, балдея. Орочимару шумно дышал и покусывал его ладонь. Джирайя начал двигаться — сначала неглубоко, затем навалился, стал вставлять на всю длину, с усилием раскрывая сжатые мышцы. Орочимару сдавленно закричал от его толчков. Он пытался удержаться на локтях, но не смог, упал грудью на матрас, высоко задрав зад. Джирайя зарычал от удовольствия. Он обнял Орочимару поперёк живота и стал трахать быстро и глубоко, каждый раз до конца вынимая член и загоняя обратно. Орочимару охал, закатывал глаза, цеплялся за матрас, словно падал куда-то. Часто дыша, он стал сжиматься, забормотал сбивчиво: — Давай же, давай, ещё вот так... — Вот так? — Джирайя грубо вдолбился в него, и Орочимару завыл на одной ноте, содрогаясь. Он так сжался, что Джирайя тут же, потеряв дыхание, сорвался в длинный, ослепительный оргазм. Орочимару обмяк в его руках. Джирайя ещё подвигался по инерции, затем тяжело опустился на него, заставляя распластаться ничком. — Ты тяжёлый, — хрипло сказал Орочимару. Джирайя поцеловал его плечо и скатился на сторону. Орочимару тут же обернулся к нему — раскрасневшийся, взмокший, с сияющими глазами. Джирайя усмехнулся ему. — Никогда не видел тебя настолько довольным. А только и надо было, что хорошо трахнуть. — Подходишь ты такой на тренировке... — задумчиво сказал Орочимару, и Джирайя расхохотался в подушку. Орочимару сладко потянулся, затем, покрывшись мурашками, стал поспешно одеваться. Джирайя поддёрнул штаны, приглашающе откинул руку, и Орочимару тут же лёг рядом, головой на его плечо, и решительно обнял поперёк груди. Сразу стало ясно, что до утра от него не отбрыкаться... но Джирайя и не собирался. — Давай теперь спать, — сказал он. — Молча. Хорошо? Орочимару поёрзал, и Джирайя заранее понял, о чём он спросит. — Что ты будешь с ним делать? Джирайя нахмурился. — Я думал, тебе неинтересно. — Он вылез из меня, — признал Орочимару. — Мне интересно. — Он запрокинул голову и нехорошо прищурился: — Оставь его в какой-нибудь мирной деревне. Не там, где детей выкидывают в снег. Его вырастят, о нём будут заботиться... — Он мой сын, — спокойно сказал Джирайя. — Я нигде не оставлю его. Орочимару отодвинулся, почти невидимый в темноте. — Что ты собираешься?.. Джирайя поморщился, услышав его севший голос. — Я беру его в Коноху. — Ты не можешь, — отрезал Орочимару. Джирайя вскинул брови. — Правда, не могу? — Нет! Ему нечего делать в Конохе! Джирайя очень старался не срываться. Он мирно спросил: — Почему, чёрт тебя возьми? Это единственное место, где он будет в безопасности и научится быть сильным. Если не хочешь, можешь вообще не общаться с ним, я отлично справлюсь сам. Орочимару вцепился ему в руку, прямо в криво замотанные бинтом порезы. Джирайя дёрнулся от боли. — Он не появится в Конохе, — просвистел Орочимару. — Я не хочу, чтобы каждая собака видела, что он мой и твой. — А мы никому не расскажем. — Джирайя. Я убью его. Джирайя сел. Он легко стряхнул руку Орочимару и молча поправил промокший бинт. Затем он взял Орочимару за шею — тот не отодвигался, но смотрел волком, — и, поглаживая большим пальцем тёплую кожу за ухом, сказал: — Ты ему ничего не сделаешь. Орочимару открыл было рот, но Джирайя близко наклонился к нему и повторил: — Ничего. — Посмотрим, — одними губами сказал Орочимару. Джирайя шумно выдохнул. Если бы он хоть на мгновение поверил, что Орочимару можно образумить, вырвав ему глаз, он бы так и сделал. — Если тебя это утешит, — сказал он, — моя репутация пострадает больше, чем твоя. Твоей терять нечего. А теперь, пожалуйста, Орочимару, пожалуйста, давай спать.— Орочимару-сама, — сказала огромная жёлто-коричневая мамуши. — Я могу что-либо для вас?.. Орочимару только скрипел зубами. — Иди, Саеко, — пропыхтел Джирайя. — Всё в порядке. Мамуши склонила голову до самой земли. — Прошу простить, — сказала она. — Джирайя-сама, Гамабунта-сан... Она пропала. Гамабунта даже не выпустил дым в её сторону. — Какая милая девочка, — сказал он. — Удивительно для змеи. — Бунта, ты тоже можешь идти. Гамабунта посмотрел на Орочимару, прижатого Джирайей к земле. — Точно? — Точно. Мы договорились. — Ну смотри, — сказал Гамабунта и тоже пропал. Детский плач нёсся над полем. Джирайя отпустил руки Орочимару и растёр онемевшие пальцы. Орочимару всё лежал лицом в землю, не пытаясь подняться. — Теперь ты выбрал другую тактику? — спросил Джирайя. — Решил притвориться спящим? — Я ненавижу тебя, — глухо сказал Орочимару. Джирайя взглянул в бледное небо, готовящее снег. — Ужас какой. Поднимайся. Он отошёл на шаг, и Орочимару встал. Он был белый от злости и взъерошенный, со свежей царапиной поверх синяка на скуле. — Ты ведь понимаешь, — страшным сиплым голосом завёл он, — что ты делаешь все, что хочешь, только потому, что я всё ещё слаб. Но пройдёт время, Джирайя, и я.... — ...плюну тебе в саке, — договорил Джирайя. — Я это уже где-то слышал. Раз эдак сто. Не теряй время, превращайся, ребёнок плачет. Орочимару в бессильной ярости оскалил длинные клыки, но затем совладал с собой. Сделав непроницаемое лицо, он сложил печати и залился бледным светом. Джирайя с удовольствием наблюдал, как натягивается форменный свитер на его груди. — Эй, — восхитился он, — они стали больше! — Я никогда этого не забуду, — прошелестел Орочимару, глядя себе под ноги. Джирайя нахмурился и холодно ответил: — Я надеюсь. Перепрыгивая рытвины, оставшиеся после драки, он добрался до накрытого защитным барьером участка. Там, надрывно плача, лежал младенец. Джирайя снял барьер, взял ребёнка на руки. Тот сразу замолчал и с любопытством уставился на Джирайю огромными жёлтыми глазами. — Он такой бледный, — пожаловался Джирайя. — Бледнее, чем ты. Это нормально? — Может, заболел, — с плохо скрытой надеждой сказал Орочимару. Джирайя отдал ему ребёнка, сел на сумку и приготовился смотреть. Орочимару, подозрительно покосившись, повернулся спиной. Джирайя обиженно крякнул, вскочил и обежал его. — Ты, — процедил Орочимару, — ты просто законченный идиот. — Вдруг ты его задушишь?! — Не притворяйся!.. Ребёнок заорал. Джирайя с Орочимару подпрыгнули. — Давай уже, — сказал Джирайя, широко улыбаясь. Орочимару, катая желваки, отодвинул полу плаща, задрал свитер и поднёс ребёнка к груди. Джирайя розовел ушами от удовольствия. — Ты такой красивый, когда не строишь из себя последнюю суку. — Он вдруг замолчал, явно озарённый идеей. — А можно мне?.. — Нет! — зашипел побледневший Орочимару. — Даже не думай! — Ну один раз... — Отойди от меня! Джирайя разочарованно вздохнул. — А вдруг я голодный, — пробормотал он. Ребёнок чмокал. Орочимару поначалу упрямо смотрел по сторонам; затем он вздрогнул и с недоумением уставился вниз. — Щипается, — пробормотал он. Джирайя встал ближе, закрывая его от ветра. Он вдруг стал очень серьёзен. — Если б не война, я бы не нёс его в Коноху, — тихо сказал он. Орочимару хмыкнул, не поверив. Но он посмотрел Джирайе в лицо, умея читать по нему, как по открытой книге, и перестал улыбаться. — Бросил бы его? Как же твоё благородство? Ответственность? — Я защищаю его, — ответил Джирайя, не желая объяснять дальше. Орочимару смотрел пристально и с любопытством, по измождённому лицу скользили волосы, подхваченные ветром; светлое небо отражалось в жёлтых глазах... Он что-то понял и слегка дрогнул, как от удара. — Раз война, то можно потерпеть, — сказал он. — Удивление.. вопросы... смех... Но так не хочется, верно? Джирайя снисходительно хмыкнул, погладил его по впалой щеке. — Дурак, — сказал он. — Плевать я хотел, кто там смеётся. Нас должно волновать другое: АНБУ, исследовательский отдел, лаборатории... Столы с ремнями, экспериментальные препараты и психи вроде тебя со скальпелями наперевес. — Ах, это. — Орочимару поскучнел, машинально покачал ребёнка — тот закряхтел. — Не бойся, его подержат сутки и отдадут. Он обычный, я проверял. Джирайя подумал об озёрах Мьёбоку, на берегах которых стоят статуи жёлтого камня: мудрецы, увешанные чётками и свитками, слепыми глазами взирающие на заросли исполинских папоротников и солнце, садящееся за утёсы; и в нос ему отдался тухлый запах жабьего масла. Ещё ему вспомнилось — ярко, словно это было вчера, — как Орочимару стоял за кафедрой и читал лекцию о деформации чакр, после которой зал аплодировал ему — а сам Джирайя, отчаянно скучая на заднем ряду, черкал завитушки в блокноте. Было время, когда они с Цунаде ходили на миссии вдвоём, потому что Орочимару пропадал на испытательных полигонах и в исследовательских корпусах... Он впервые и в полной мере осознал, что ребёнок этот не будет обычным, хоть и родился без улучшенного генома и всего другого, чего хотел от него Орочимару. Ему сразу, помимо воли представилась его смутная, но блестящая судьба. Он будет сильным и умным; возможно, он будет исключительным; и каким отличным сюжетным поворотом станет для него титул хокаге!.. — Что смешного? — спросил Орочимару, и Джирайя боднул его лбом в лоб. — Просто хорошо, что он обычный. Вы ещё не всё? — Он ещё не всё. — Ладно, стоим... Орочимару с мрачной задумчивостью смотрел вдаль. — Как неудобно, — сказал он словно бы сам себе, — что он похож на нас обоих. После полудня они вошли в страну Рисовых полей и пошли вдоль границы, держась бамбуковых рощ. Через день они достигли красных холмов Нигаты.Они появились раньше, чем рассчитывал Джирайя. Их было восемь, они заперли выход из лощины, встав клином. Должны были быть ещё четверо, и Джирайя понял, что остальные нападут сверху, с холмов. — Ты страхуешь, — бросил он Орочимару. У того под плащом уже шипело и извивалось, и мелькали тонкие раздвоенные языки из рукавов. — Мелочь из Камня, — сказал он. — Ерунда. Ветер пах гарью. Небо над Нигатой было чёрным от дыма, и Джирайя понял, что Нигаты больше нет. Ему стало стыдно за свою первую, слепую, как инстинкт, мысль: они пришли за ребёнком, или за Орочимару, или за обоими. Какая глупость. Они пришли разрушить мирный город, снабжающий армию провиантом. Всем остальным, оказавшимся поблизости, просто не повезло. Люди по бокам клина вскинули руки, и мёрзлая земля под ногами Джирайи раскрылась, как жадный рот. С треском и стоном просела порода. Джирайя кинулся в сторону. Кто-то возник рядом, остро блеснула сталь. Джирайя нырнул под замах и не глядя ударил по ногам. Хрустнули и распались чужие колени. Под длинный надсадный визг Джирайя сложил печати Земли и отпустил чакру, потоком подкатывавшую к рукам. Грохнуло. Пахнуло тяжёлым эфирным духом. Джирайя увидел, как бойцы, удерживавшие позиции, пропали, словно провалились куда-то. Вздулся и лопнул огромный пузырь — в конце лощины разлилось огромная топь. Кто-то выскочил было, отталкиваясь чакрой, но на него налетела огромная белая змея и с плеском утащила в глубину. Все восемь человек исчезли, как не было их. Джирайя стал вставать, и вдруг время замедлилось. Он понял, что кто-то летит на него сверху. Секунда потекла, как мёд. Джирайя прыгнул и понял, что не успевает. В его затылок с хрустом врезался тяжёлый кунай. Человек, напавший с холма, приземлился всей тяжестью на его плечи, и позвоночник Джирайи сломался с тем звуком, с каким ломается крепкая ветка. Джирайя упал и остатками гаснущего сознания почувствовал, как человек из Камня, убивший его, выдёргивает кунай из его черепа. Всё это мелькнуло и пропало у Джирайи перед глазами. Он прыгнул, но ещё раньше прыгнул Орочимару. Он сбил человека из Камня в воздухе. Они свалились на землю и покатились, а когда остановились, человек из Камня уже не шевелился. Наступив ему на живот, Орочимару вытащил меч из его груди. — Ещё один, — сказал он. Джирайя зачем-то потрогал затылок и обернулся ко второму холму. — А, нет, — невозмутимо сказал Орочимару. — Сбежал. — Ну и хрен бы с ним. — Джирайя, припадая на разболевшееся колено, пошёл к кривой вишне, оставшейся далеко позади у подножия одного из холмов. Он на ходу поднял два пальца к глазам, затем указал на дерево и крикнул: — Кай! — Страна Земли успела сцепиться с Рисом, — говорил Орочимару за его спиной. — Рис обречён, как жаль. Такая милая страна. Если бы я решил основать скрытую деревню, то основал бы её где-то здесь... Джирайя остановился и стал массировать колено. Ребёнок под деревом, появившийся, когда спала маскировочная техника, молчал. Странно, подумал Джирайя, мы здесь бегали и орали, а он даже не проснулся. Он представил, как потом расскажет пацану, что тот в возрасте пяти дней пережил настоящую боевую стычку, и слабо улыбнулся. Колено отпустило. Джирайя выпрямился, и вдруг его улыбка застыла. Он позвал: — Орочимару. Орочимару! — Что? — Иди сюда, — сказал Джирайя и бросился вперёд. Кривая вишня прыгала и расплывалась у него перед глазами. Он добежал и замер, боясь посмотреть ближе, затем опустился на колени и заглянул младенцу в лицо. Тот был мёртв. Подошёл Орочимару. — Что ещё... — он резко замолчал, как ударили его. Джирайя дотронулся до мягкой холодной щёчки. Ребёнок не дышал. Джирайя нажал сильнее, и он перекатился в своём шаре из тёплых одеял. Тогда Джирайя попытался взять его на руки, но не удержал, и ребёнок ударился лицом о землю. Джирайя вскрикнул. — Оставь, — сказал Орочимару. Джирайя всё стоял на коленях, глядя на пухлый свёрток. Орочимару взял его за плечо, и Джирайя резко обернулся. Орочимару отпрянул. — Это ты, — сказал Джирайя, встал и пошёл на него. — Это был ты. — Нет! — Ты сказал, что убьёшь его. — Я не трогал его, — настойчиво сказал Орочимару, пятясь. — Джирайя, посмотри на меня, это был не я! — Это был ты! — проревел Джирайя и кинулся на него. Орочимару легко ушёл в сторону. Из его рукава вылетели десятки змей, длинных, как корабельные канаты. Джирайя, ощерившийся белыми иглами, только разворачивался, ища, куда пропал Орочимару, а змеи уже обвились вокруг него и стиснули гладкими мускулистыми телами. Джирайя зашатался. Рыча, он попытался развести руки. Орочимару, стоявший в стороне, сделал движение, и змеи усилили захват. Джирайя шумно выдохнул остатки воздуха, попытался вдохнуть, не смог и стал багроветь. Он зашатался и упал. Отчётливо затрещали рёбра. Орочимару приблизился, сел на корточки. Лицо у него было непроницаемое и бледное до серости. — Джирайя, — позвал он. — Это был не я. Джирайя смотрел куда-то мимо. У него посинели губы. Орочимару моргнул, и змеи расползлись в стороны, блестя чешуёй. Джирайя вздохнул раз, два, затем закашлялся и вдруг заплакал, прижав ладони к глазам. — Это был не ты? — спросил он, задыхаясь. — Правда? Ты не врёшь? — Нет. Не вру. — Он даже не ранен, — простонал Джирайя. — Почему он умер? Орочимару пожал плечами. — Мало ли. Он родился недоношенным, постоянно был на холоде, мало ел... Он замолчал. Джирайя недоверчиво смотрел на него. — Тебе вообще плевать? — спросил он. Орочимару не ответил, и Джирайя сказал тихо, словно самому себе: — Вот как. Он крепко потёр мокрое лицо, посидел, словно собираясь с силами, и встал. — Надо его... — он не договорил, покачался на месте, как болванчик, и побрёл, не оборачиваясь, к вишне.До самой Конохи они почти не разговаривали. Февраль подходил к концу. На территории страны Огня было тихо, словно война решила впасть в спячку до весны. Тянулись знакомые густые леса. В глубине страны, совсем как в мирное время, были открыты ворота городов, работали придорожные гостиницы и курились паром онсены. Мирные люди не хотели думать об умирающей стране Рисовых Полей или разодранной, нищей стране Дождей. В последнюю ночь пути пошёл снег пополам с дождём, и Орочимару предложил переждать его. — Как хочешь, — сказал Джирайя. Они быстро нашли укрытие. Это была пещера, известная всем шиноби Конохи: одна из множества точек, используемых для засад и временных лагерей. Внутри нашлись три полные сумки с боеприпасами, десяток брикетов сухого пайка и две аптечки. Джирайя подбросил туда бинтов и перекиси — больше у него ничего не было. Орочимару развёл костёр и развесил сушиться плащи. — Есть будешь? — Да. Они поужинали в полной тишине. Джирайя, глубоко задумавшись, смотрел в огонь. Он выглядел больным. Свет плясал на его осунувшемся лице и отражался в тёмных глазах. — Джирайя, — позвал Орочимару. Джирайя равнодушно посмотрел на него. Орочимару собрался было что-то сказать, но замялся. Молчание стало ещё тяжелее, чем было. — Да ладно, — сказал Джирайя. — Не мучайся так. Ничего особенного не произошло. Орочимару вскинул голову. Его лицо вдруг исказила страшная гримаса. Он до хруста сцепил пальцы и сказал: — Мне больно. Сначала Джирайя не понял: смотрел всё с той же любезной отстранённостью, вертя в пальцах галету. Потом по нему словно пошла трещина. Он опустил плечи и уронил руки. Он мог сказать: ты во всём виноват. Но он сказал: — Мне тоже. Орочимару обошёл костёр и сел рядом с ним.
1059020	The Heart of Smaug	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo Baggins, Fíli, Kíli, Dís, Balin, Dwalin, Nori (Tolkien), Ori (Tolkien), Dori, Gandalf, Smaug \| Salmar", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by KusanoSaku", "chapters": "21/21", "completed": "2015-02-16", "published": "2013-11-26T00:00:00", "words": "37,138", "Additional Tags": "Maia/Dwarf relationship, Transformation, Redemption, Elemental personification, Fated Romance, Mates, True Forms, True Mates, Past Maia/Elf relationship, Past/Present Vala/Maia, Present Vala/Vala relationship, Implied Relationships, Prophecy, Gold Sickness, Dwarf/Hobbit relationship, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Courtship, Cultural Differences, Developing Relationship, Male Slash, Background Het, Cursed Dragon Treasure, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Kíli/Ori, Dwalin/Nori, Balin/Dori, implied relationships - Relationship, Bilbo Baggins/Fíli, Dís/Canonical Husband, Thorin Oakenshield/Smaug \| Salmar", "Series": "The Fall and Rise of the House of Durin", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Hobbit - All Media Types", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "F/M, M/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Title: The Heart of SmaugPairings: Eventually Smaug/Thorin, Fili/Bilbo, Past Dis/Canonical Husband, Kili/Ori, Balin/Dori, Dwalin/Nori, ect. Implied: Manwe/Varda, Aule/Yavanna, Olorin/Nienna, Vana/Orome, Past Melkor/Mairon [Morgoth/Sauron], Melian/Thingol, Irmo/Este, Ulmo/Sirion [an OC Maia named after a river favoured most by Ulmo in Middle Earth] Prologue Salmar’s first real memory was the song. He stood among a great host yet knew no names; he did not at the time know what a name was. Only that he was something and that something was named. A great shining being approached him and spoke, “Thy name is Salmar. Thou art a being of Fire. Fire is important for it shapes many things. Thee may call me Eru Illuvatar, thou art one of the Ainur.” Then he was taught something Illuvatar called ‘Music’ and taught a piece he was to sing. Illuvatar approached each of them, they were called Ainur and they were taught their part. While they waited, the others introduced themselves. “I am Aule, you are?” another who was taller and not something called ‘fire’ said speaking. “I am Salmar.” Salmar replied. “Salmar, yes.” Another spirit who glowed as he did, approached and he felt a kinship, “I am Arien.” “Salmar.” Then Eru Illuvatar spoke; “Now we sing. When I point to you sing as I have taught you.” The song was beautiful and something that felt as if it meant sad. Then the song changed and became something that seemed to be discordant. Three times this occurred and the one song became two fighting things. What the word ‘fighting’ meant in full Salmar didn’t know, but it seemed to fit the sounds clashing. “I will show you a Great Vision, my children. A Wonder that has never been seen." The vision was glorious, Salmar didn’t really remember all that he had sang nor did he know how what he sang affected this vision. “Melkor’s attempts to disrupt the Ainulindale has merely created more beauty, and has made you Ulmo stronger rather then weaker. It has given you a greater kinship to Manwe.” The one called Ulmo replied. "Truly, Water is become now fairer than my heart imagined, neither had my secret thought conceived the snowflake, nor in all my music was contained the falling of the rain. I will seek Manwë, that he and I may make melodies forever to thy delight!'" While fire, as Salmar was created as a personification of, was stronger for Melkor’s song, he turned from it and stayed close to the first he met besides his Creater: Aule and Arien. Illuvatar waved his mighty hand and the Great Vision vanished. Salmar’s cry of dismay and sorrow was echoed throughout the host save the one called Melkor. Illuvatar spread his hands wide and sang out, “Ea!” And it was: their music was given great form. “Come Manwe, Ulmo, Melkor, Aule, Orome, Irmo, Namo, and Tulkas; you will be called the Lords of the Valar and Manwe will lead you. Varda, Yavanna, Vana, Este, Vaire, Nessa, and Nienna; you shall be called Queens of the Valar and Varda will be your leader.” The one called Melkor was something that felt like it should be named discontent at the naming of Manwe as leader. “The rest of you shall be called Maiar. Those closest to one of the Valar will follow them. You will enter into Ea and will be subjected to the fate that you sang into its creation.” A shimmering grew into the manifestation of their song. “From here, my children, you enter into this world.” Salmar followed Aule and like Arien stayed at his side. Once the chosen stepped through the portal closed it seemed, but the edge still seemed to remain. Immediately, Maiar who walked beside them left Aule and stood with Melkor. The one called Manwe was joined by his Valar Aule and the one named Ulmo. They held hands and began to sing. There was nothing, it was empty where they had been sent. Salmar realized that they would be tasked with creating the form of the Great Vision with what they were given. Something called Mountains were raised by the three singers, but Melkor’s voice cast them down. Likewise were valleys were twisted into mountains. This pattern continued until Melkor and his companions disappeared. Then Manwe, Aule, and Ulmo continued to forge the Earth through their combined power. Finally, they stopped and Arda was made real. Varda stepped forward and took Manwe’s hand. Then Yavanna joined Aule and Ulmo was joined by one of the water Maia, who had accompanied him, whose name Salmar knew not. They looked out upon Arda and saw that despite Melkor’s attempts to subvert it to his own ends that it was good. Salmar could somehow feel the pleasure and pride that Illuvatar had. They had done well. Peace reigned in Arda until the return of Melkor. That was the beginning of something that was called war. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 1 “Awake, Smaug.” Smaug felt rage…, “You, a faithful servant of Aule have fallen. You have joined with his enemy. You are our Greatest work, our finest dragon. Arda will never see the like again. I am Sauron, Lieutenant of Morgoth and Lord of Angband, which is where we are at present.” “Sauron?” Smaug asked. “Perhaps, the name Mairon would be more familiar?” “Mairon? Yes, I know that name.” Smaug said with a puff of steam. “You live to serve us, that is what you said when you came to join us. It is my Lord Morgoth’s will that you spread fire and destruction wherever you go.” Sauron ordered. This flipping from us to Lord Morgoth was confusing. His mind was muddled. He was unsure why this all felt wrong, but he was here and he was an obedient servant, he knew that much. Smaug would be as he was told he was made to be: their greatest work and the finest of their dragons. He wasn’t sure what a dragon was, but he’d learn. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 2 Smaug followed Sauron from Angband to Tol-in-Gaurhoth, but his master was already working on a new creation: The werewolves. The wolves that were bred that were selected by Morgoth as the finest were made werewolves. Those that were not, were made Wargs and were without the intelligence of sorts that Morgoth gave the werewolves. Smaug was only rarely noticed and given instructions. He preferred to lay in the dungeons depths of Tol-in-Gaurhoth where he was closest to the heart of the earth. Then his dark world filled with light, light so bright it almost returned him to himself. “You dragon, are lost and will remain lost until you find your Heart in Erebor.” Erebor? What was Erebor? Smaug could not touch the elf maiden who put him in mind of Meilan. Who was Meilan? Smaug knew not, it was as a name from a dream only half-remembered upon waking. He heard the shifting deep in the earth and knew that Tol-in-Gaurhoth was falling So he left but found Sauron not, instead he found a cave and tunneled deep into a mountain and slept. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 3 His sleep was disturbed by mining and singing. Songs of the glory of the House of Durin and their home in Erebor. Erebor… The faint memory of the prophecy sat at the forefront of Smaug’s mind as he made his way out of the mountain. He had a lot of strength due to his sleeping and he could hide himself. The more he followed the creatures his master Sauron had called Aule’s folly or Khazad in their tongue, the more he learned. Erebor lay in the Lonely Mountain. It would take some time to reorient himself and to find it. He must find Erebor to find his heart. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 4 Erebor… Erebor… Smaug saw Erebor and he knew in his heart he had found what he was seeking. He let out a roar and flame. His wings blotted out part of the sky and his claws cause destruction as he tore stone and spires from the mountain fortress. He tore down the gates and set fire to the trees on the mountain side. He entered the mountain and his sheer size cause damage and screams of terror. The terror feed something inside him and yet it also made him feel something that might be guil,t but he forced it down. In his wake, short persons ran. Aule’s mistake personified. The rubble crushed many and the objects that burned also caused death, injury, and misfortune. This was where he belonged and he would claim it, but he must chase its denizens away. A dwarf that one might call venerable was before him, clutching something that glowed like a star. It fell from the dwarf’s hands and he scrambled for, it but was dragged away hugging the wall by another. The other almost caught his attention, but he was drawn to the masses of gold, jewels and other riches stored here. It was here in this vault that he would make his home. Smaug roared in triumph at his victory. The roar immediately brought screams anew and then all was blessedly silent. The mountain smelled as if he were now alone, save for the animals that he might feed on if he so desired. Eventually, he would chase the humans at the base of the mountain, but for now he was content. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 5 The loss of Erebor ate at Thorin, son of Thrain and grandson of Thror, the last King Under the Mountain. It grew harder to ignore with each passing year, especially as the Royal House of Durin dwindled. His grandfather Thror and his brother Frerin as well his sister Dis’ One and many of their people were lost at Battle of Azanulbizar. The words spoken by his cousin Dáin II Ironfoot when he stopped Thrain and begged for a retreat from that bloody day echoed over and over in his mind. ‘Nay, uncle, some other power must come before Durin's folk would return to Moria.’ Who that power was he knew not. Lost were his ancestor’s ring, the Arkenstone, and Erebor; so their people were adrift in the world. Many flocked to Dain in the Iron Mountains after the heavy loss at Battle of Azanulbizar. When Kili, his youngest nephew and second heir, came of age, he thought once more on Erebor and wondered if reclaiming it was wiser then another failed attempt at Moria. Thorin was a blacksmith like all his people, but a swordsmith by trade and a talented one, his old master had said before Erebor fell. He travelled and did specialty work to make money to care for widows and orphans, especially his sister and nephews. He was on one such trip mulling over things, even more so since Dis and Dori had approached him about Kili’s fate. Kili as a prince of the Royal Line of Durin was under his authority. Dori’s youngest brother was Kili’s One and a bearer, according to their greatest healer Oin and Dis. They wished for a betrothal at least and sought his consent; as they should. Fili had visited many of their people in Ered Luin and even had travelled to the Iron Mountains to visit Dain. Yet his heir never mentioned his One, perhaps, like himself, Fili's One perished either at the Fall of Erebor or at the battle of Battle of Azanulbizar. He spotted the man on horseback that men called Gandalf the Grey, a wizard who was rumoured to be very wise and gave thoughtful advice. He hailed him and urged his pony forward with his pack pony following behind him. “Gandalf, I say! Are you the wizard Gandalf the Grey in truth? The one Khazad-dim call Tharkun?” The man in grey slowed and slowly turned to face him. “Aye, I am called thus in these parts. Tharkun by Khazad-dim and Mithrandir in Gondor. As well as a name in the West that I left behind at the request of a great Lady. Gandalf is the most common and you may call me such.” “I am Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, and grandson of Thror. I would have a few hours talk with you if you might spare the time for I have much on my mind, and they say you are wise and know more than most of what goes on in the world. Will you hear me and give me your counsel?" “I always have time for those who need it. You, young Khazad, look as if you need a willing ear and a pint or two of ale. We’re near Bree and the Prancing Pony boasts a decent meal and ale; well decent enough for hungry, weary travellers at any rate. I’ll supply the meal since I was stopping anyway.” “Mountainless I may be, but I am a son of Durin and I don’t need charity.” Thorin grumbled. Gandalf chuckled, “I offer no charity, since I am asking you to share a meal that had you not hailed me, I would have eaten alone. I knew Thror and Thrain of old and would like to ask after your people. Of Erebor’s people and Smaug have been on my mind as of late. I believe that Illuvatar himself put us in one another’s path. Perhaps, we might help one another.” Thorin gave in with a shrug accepting the invitation in the spirit in which it was given by saying nothing more and followed the wizard into Bree. He had no love for the creatures that men and elves called Halflings; he thought them as soft and silly. Soft as the mud of their home they called The Shire. He tried to avoid them, preferring to deal with other Khazad-dim if he could or Men who were easy to understand. He disliked and trusted elves believing that their Ally Thranduil had abandoned them when Smaug attacked for he offered them no assistance in traveling through Mirkwood or even assistance to reclaim Erebor by attacking Smaug. They were given a table at the Inn of the Prancing Pony as it was called and waited on by a man. “Hullo, Gandalf, been years since I be seeing you in these parts.” “Usually, my business doesn’t give me time to stop if I were near. This time business brought me to your door, a pint of ale for myself and my companion, Butterbar.” The innkeeper doffed his cap, “Barliman Butterbur at your service. Any friend of Gandalf is a friend of mine.” Thorin grunted, “Thorin Oakenshield at yours.” Their ale arrived first and after a few swigs, Thorin began to lay out his problem. His fear for the future of his people, his worry of a second generation of his family born in exile, his wish to reclaim Erebor, his desire for revenge against Orcs for his grandfather’s death at Battle of Azanulbizar, and his grudge against Smaug for chasing them from their home. Gandalf was so silent as he talked he worried that the old man had nodded off bored by his problem. “Fear not, for I sleep not. I merely am pondering these worries of yours. As I said on the road often has the problem of Smaug been in my thoughts. My fear is that dark days will soon befall us. I believe that an Erebor with a Durin as King under the Mountain might turn the tide of the war that I fear is coming.” Gandalf said quietly. “Often I said to myself: I must find some means of dealing with Smaug. But a direct stroke against Dol Guldur is needed still more. Perhaps, aiding you in some small way to reclaim Erebor and strengthen it while I convince the White Council of the great need of an assault on Dol Guldor is what I am needed for.” “I have heard tales and rumours of a darkness growing in Mirkwood.” Thorin shrugged, “That is the problem of Thranduil the shirker.” “If things are as I fear, the originator of that Darkness will soon affect far more then you can imagine. I fear that the time for an Alliance of Eldar, Edain, and Khazad is fast approaching; for that to be a possibility, a strong Erebor is vital.” Gandalf mused almost to himself. “How would you aid me in accomplishing that? I hoped an assault on Erebor might be successful, but I have no wish to commit my people or doom them as my grandfather did in his attempt to retake Moria from the Orcs.” Thorin scowled. “Therein lies my problem, how to retake Erebor and redeem my people from exile without damning us all. Our numbers are so few compared to the time before the Battle of Azanulbizar or even before the coming of Smaug.” “Go back to your people; ask them if they might be interested in retaking Erebor by guile.” Gandalf said lighting his pipe. “I have someone in mind to take part in your quest.” “No men and no elves.” Thorin said briskly, “My business is my own and I’d prefer not to have the likes of them along.” “No men and no elves, though I have met my share of honourable ones among both.” Gandalf shrugged as he drew on his pipe. “Who would you recommend?” Thorin scowled, not liking the wizard’s skirting the issue. “The curious son of an old friend,” Gandalf said brightly but offered no more. XoooooooX Thorin left Gandalf’s company after breakfast and returned to Ered Luin where he talked through the night with Balin and Dwalin; his advisor and shield brother respectfully. Balin wanted to hear the wizard’s plan for himself before committing, while Dwalin, who clearly hadn’t learned the lesson of the Battle of Azanulbizar, was for an assault on Erebor. “The Lonely Mountain has been silent for years, decades even.” Thorin glared, “Are the signs and stars clear? Do you think honestly that they are in our favour if we attempt such a thing?” Gloin spoke, “Alis is a seer and she has recently mentioned that the stars say that a great change is coming. That a hero will arise. Fortune is perhaps, on our side.” “Send for her,” Thorin said briskly, “I must here what she has to say.” Gloin left at once. It was sometime before his niece appeared. “You sent for me my lord?” Alis asked in that airy way of hers. It was strange to think that this dam was his neice by blood so different was she from Khazad of the Royal Line. Thorin nodded, “Tell me what the stars have told you.” “The time is ripe. I watch the skies, for they are mine to watch. Alcarinquë, the Glorious one is in Soronúmë, the Eagle of the West. According to what the Eldar taught us about reading the stars in Arda, the chosen one will rise up and lead us. Change is coming, darkness too. The one who will restore us, he who is to return, the stars are moving to welcome him, but they move slowly. We are a small, but still mighty people and we have been blessed. The signs are there Thorin if one will follow the signs.” Alis said, her eyes far away. “You may find help where you least expect it. Thorin was left with much to consider. XoooooooX It was not even a week when Gandalf appeared in Ered Luin, he appeared after a council of many hours with Balin, Gloin, Dis, Fili, Kili, and Dwalin. "'Well, what have you got to say?' Thorin asked the wizard as soon as he entered unannounced. "This first,” Gandalf answered taking a seat against a bare wall and lighting his pipe. “Your own ideas are those of a king, Thorin Oakenshield; but your kingdom is gone. If it is to be restored, which I doubt can be accomplished easily, it must be from small beginnings. Far away here, I wonder if you fully realize the strength of a great Dragon. But that is not all: there is a Shadow growing fast in the world far more terrible of which I mentioned in passing before. If left alone they will join forced and will help one another of that I have no doubt. Open war would be quite useless; and anyway it is impossible for you to arrange it. You will have to try something simpler and yet bolder, indeed something one might call desperate.” "You are both vague and disquieting,” Thorin grumbled. “Speak more plainly!” “Well, for one thing,” Gandalf said puffing away on his pipe as if he hadn’t a real stake in this, which he wouldn’t since he was a wizard, probably, a man, but not Khazad, "you will have to go on this quest yourself, and you will have to go secretly. No messengers, heralds, or challenges for you, Thorin Oakenshield. At most you can take with you a few kinsmen or faithful followers. But you will need something more, something unexpected.” “Name it.” his sister Dis said curious. “One moment!” Gandalf said holding up a hand, “You hope to deal with a Dragon; and he is not only very great, but he is now also old and very cunning. From the beginning of your adventure, you must allow for this: his memory, and his sense of smell.” “Naturally,” Balin sniffed, “Khazad-dim have had more dealings with Dragons than most, and you are not instructing the ignorant.” “Very good,” Gandalf replied; “but Thorin’s plans did not seem to me to consider this point. My plan is one of stealth, stealth. Smaug does not lie on his costly bed without dreams, Thorin Oakenshield for he dreams of Khazad-dim! You may be sure that he explores his hall day by day, night by night, until he is sure that no faintest air of a Khazad is near, before he goes to his sleep: his half-sleep, prick-eared for the sound of Khazad-feet.” “You make your stealth sound as difficult and hopeless as any open attack,” Dwalin growled, “Impossibly difficult!” “Yes, it is difficult,”' Gandalf mused. “But not impossibly difficult, or I would not waste my time here. I would say absurdly difficult. So I am going to suggest an absurd solution to the problem. Take a Hobbit with you! Smaug has probably never heard of Hobbits, and he has certainly never smelt them.” “What!” Gloin cried, “One of those simpletons down in the Shire? What use on Arda or under it, could he possibly be? Let him smell as he may, he would never dare to come within smelling distance of the nakedest dragonet new from the shell!' “Now, now,” Gandalf chided, “that is quite unfair. You do not know much about the Shire-folk, Gloin. I suppose you think them simple, because they are generous and do not haggle; and think them timid because you never sell them any weapons for they make their own, they are quite a self-sufficient lot, Hobbits. You are mistaken. Anyway, there is one that I have my eye on as a companion for you, Thorin. He is neat-banded and clever, though shrewd, and far from rash. I think he has courage. Great courage, I guess, according to the way of his people. They are, you might say, ‘brave at a pinch.’ You have to put these Hobbits in a tight place before you find out what is in them.” “The test cannot be made,” Thorin snarled. “As far as I have observed, they do all that they can to avoid tight places.” “Quite true,” I said. “They are a very sensible people. But this Hobbit is rather unusual. I think he could be persuaded to go into a tight place. I believe that in his heart he really desires to - to have, as he would put it, an adventure.” “Not at my expense!” Thorin snapped, rising and he began striding about angrily. “This is not advice, it is foolery! I fail to see what any Hobbit good or bad, could do that would repay me for a day's keep, even if he could be persuaded to start.” “Fail to see! You would fail to hear it, more likely,” Gandalf retorted. “Hobbits move without effort more quietly than any Khazad in the world could manage, as though his life depended on it. They are, I suppose, the most soft-footed of all mortal or immortal kindred. You do not seem to have observed that, at any rate, Thorin Oakenshield, as you romped through the Shire, making a noise I may say that the inhabitants could hear a mile away. When I said that you would need stealth, I meant it…” Gandalf seemed to pause before he continued, “professional stealth.” “Professional stealth?” Balin exclaimed, “Do you mean a trained treasure-seeker? Can they still be found?” Gandalf hesitated. “I think so,” he said at last. “For a reward they will go in where you dare not, or at any rate cannot, and get what you desire.” Thorin's eyes glistened as the memories of lost treasures flashed through his mind; “A paid thief, you mean,” he said scornfully. “That might be considered, if the reward was not too high, if Dwalin’s claims can be believed we have a well-skilled thief among us though no proof can he offer. But what has all this to do with one of those villagers? They drink out of clay, and they cannot tell a gem from a bead of glass.” “'I wish you would not always speak so confidently without knowledge,” Gandalf said sharply. “These villagers have lived in the Shire some fourteen hundred years, and they have learned many things in the time. They had dealings with the Elves and with the Khazad-dim, a thousand years before Smaug came to Erebor. None of them are wealthy as your forefathers reckoned it, but you will find some of their dwellings have fairer things in them than you can boast here, Thorin.” Thorin flinched; living in Ered Luin was a sore point with him. Dis’ lips pursed. Dwalin’s fists clenched at his side while Balin glowered. Gandalf went on as if they hadn’t reacted at all, “The Hobbit that I have in mind has ornaments of gold, and eats with silver tools, and drinks wine out of shapely crystal.” “Ah! I see your drift at last,” said Balin. “He is a thief, then? That is why you recommend him?' “A thief?” Gandalf laughed, “Why yes, a professional thief, of course! How else would a Hobbit come by a silver spoon? I will put the thief's mark on his door, and then you will find it.” Then the wizard got up, and said with a warmth that surprised them all, “You must look for that door, Thorin Oakenshield! I am serious. Listen to me, Durin's Folk!” At that moment, he seemed wiser; older then time itself, less stooped far more then the mere man Thorin had took him for on the road and something altogether different. He was no man, no elf, and no Khazad. Rather, he something far greater then either of them. Gandalf’s voice firm as if he knew beyond any doubt, “If you persuade this Hobbit to join you, you will succeed. If you do not, you will fail. If you refuse even to try, then I have finished with you. You will get no more advice or help from me until the Shadow falls on you!” Thorin looked at the ‘wizard’ in astonishment, “Strong words! Very well, I will come. Some foresight is on you, if you are not merely crazed.” Admitting what he saw in this Gandalf the Grey was beyond words to explain. The calling to return home was even stronger now. “Good!” Gandalf exclaimed, “But you must come with good will, not merely in the hope of proving me a fool. You must be patient and not easily put off, if neither the courage nor the desire for adventure that I speak of are plain to see at first sight. He will perhaps deny them. He may very well try to back out; but you must not let him.” "Haggling will not help him, if that is what you mean," said Thorin. "I will offer him a fair reward for anything that he recovers, and no more." “There is one other thing,” Gandalf went on, “you must make all your plans and preparations before hand. Get everything ready! Once persuaded, he must have no time for second thoughts. You must go straight from the Shire, taking him with you on your quest.” “He sounds a very strange creature, this thief of yours,” Fili, his nephew, said thoughtfully, “What is his name, or the one that he uses?” “Hobbits use their real names,” Gandalf said. “The only one that he has is Bilbo Baggins." '"What a name!” Fili laughed. There was something about his heir’s look, the name had struck something, like a hammer on metal when one was in the forge and it rang true. This caused Thorin to frown and his sister, Princess Dis to appear thoughtful. “He thinks it very respectable,” Gandalf shrugged, “and it fits well enough; for he is a middle-aged bachelor, and getting a bit odd, so his neighbours said. Food and books are perhaps, at present his main interest. He keeps a very good larder, I am told, and maybe more than one. So in that sense, at least you will well entertained.” “That is enough,” Thorin said holding up a hand, “If I had not given my word, I would not come now. I am in no mood to be made a fool of. For I am serious also, deadly serious, and my heart is hot within me.” “Look now, Thorin,” Gandalf said frowning, “March is passing and Spring is here. Make everything ready as soon as you can. I have some business to do, but I shall be back in a week. When I return, if all is in order, I will ride on ahead to prepare the ground. Then we will all visit him together on the following day.” With that the ‘wizard’ vanished through the door and Thorin was left with his council. “You did the right thing brother talking to the wizard Tharkun.” “Kili,” Thorin frowned at his youngest sister’s son, “Ori may join us. If we prove successful, I will grant the request of Dori, son of Stor and your Aman.” Kili gave a cry of joy. Thorin ignored him, “Fili, my heir must join us. Dis, I will leave you as my regent in Ered Luin for I trust you to look after our people. Balin, you will travel with me to Dain to ask him if he will assist us.” “Dain will not, brother,” Dis spoke up. “Peace, I will ask. It is for the honour of our Line that I do this and I am King of Durin’s Folk even if I am not Lord of Erebor or Khazad-dûm.” Thorin waved her off continuing apace. “Dwalin must come, for I will have need of my shield brother. Ori will record our Quest, so that our deeds will not go unrecorded. For if we retake Erebor, he will be in time both Prince-Consort and Royal Scribe. Where Ori goes, I suspect that Dori will as well.” “Might I come, Thorin? I was quite young when we were forced to flee Erebor and I wish to reclaim my home for my son to give him back a venerable home.” Gloin asked. “Alis must stay for I shall need her.” Dis insisted. Gloin nodded, “Gimli is a fine warrior and a true Durin at heart. He will serve you well, my lady. Though he is not yet of age and is serving an apprenticeship as a blacksmith. He greatly desires to serve a second apprenticeship as a mason, but we have few nearby.” “I will go; Dis can serve as a healer for our people since she finished her own apprenticeship many score ago.” Oin said speaking for the first time since Gandalf arrived. “You may have need of a healer.” “You may both come if you wish. Provided that you have your affairs in order here and arrive in time at the appointed place.” Thorin agreed at once, his firm acceptance of Gandalf’s advice might have been shaken if his council were unconvinced of Gandalf’s words. “May I go tell Dori?” Ori, Kili’s One asked. Thorin nodded and the youngest Khazad scurried off at once. Thorin took Balin aside to discuss how to convince Dain to send at least someone with them. He could hear Kili begging Dis to allow him to join since Ori was going while Fili tried to persuade his brother to stay in Ered Luin. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 6 It was two days before Thorin could leave with Balin. Just at they were about to leave their home in Ered Luin, Gandalf rode in. “You have made haste then?” Gandalf asked? “I wish to ask my cousin if he would assist me.” Thorin said shortly. “You must say nothing of the plan.” Gandalf frowned. “I will tell him of my other plan and ask him if he will assist us in retaking Erebor by force as he did at the Battle of Azanulbizar.” “Which he will no doubt remember went poorly and he lost more axes than he could afford.” Gandalf frowned. “Once he decides that he will not help me, he will think I am going do it different than we will.” Thorin scoffed. “He may see that I must be mad to consider repeating my grandfather’s mistake.” “Very well, then I shall give to you these. I found a very old and tortured Khazad in a dungeon some years ago. He was mad and far too gone to remember who he was, but he asked that I give these to his son. I will pass them on for I believe that you are the proper custodian of these artefacts.” Gandalf pulled out a package wrapped in leaves. “I have told no one that I have these, you are the first to set eyes on them in over three score of years. Open them in private.” Thorin accepted the package, “I will do so.” Then Gandalf rode off once more. Thorin knew that the contents were for his eyes only and chose to place them inside his own cloak ignoring Balin’s queries. XoooooooX Reluctantly, Thorin and Balin left their weapons at the door of the great hall deep in the Iron Hills. Dain had grown queer it seemed, for the Great Hall looked more like a throne room then his cousin had any right to possess. If was as if his cousin believed that he were King of Durin’s folk while he, Fili, and Kili still lived. “So,cousin,” Dain said boredly, “what boon have you, a mountainless king come to ask of me? Have you grown so weary that you wish to cast it all away on a foolish endeavour as Thror did? Has gold sickness and discontent driven away what little sense you might still have?” “I have no gold as you well know, Dain; you only have what little you earn from mining iron because there is little wealth left in the Iron Hills.” Thorin retorted. “Insulting a kinsman that you wish to request a boon from is quite unwise, isn’t it Thorin? Or like your father and Grandfather, do you allow persons like Balin to do your thinking for you? Spend enough time with the likes of Dwalin and Dori, who have more muscles then brains and yours will dry up like the grass during a summer without rain.” While Thorin spent little time around Dori, he was still fond of his old friend, “You know nothing about Dori; he took leadership in his family and is parent to both his siblings. He’s scrimped and saved to give them a roof over their heads, Fili came home one day and said that Dori wrestled and beat a BEAR because it tried to attack him and Nori.” “What about Dwalin? That overgrown beast is only good for chopping trees.” Balin stiffened, but his serene expression belied none of the fury that Thorin would have expected. After all, being Dwalin’s elder brother, he’d seen the three of them playing together like Ori and Kili due to being of an age. “So, has the loss of Erebor eaten away at you like it did Thror and Thrain?” The Khazad-dim that made up his cousin’s counsel laughed. What infuriated Thorin was that Dain had appointed those who had served his grandfather and father before Smaug cast them out. They hadn’t followed them into exile, rather they had moved bag and baggage as men would say, straight to the Iron Hills, where clearly Dain had welcomed them. “Will you talk to me seriously, Dain or will you merely keep throwing insults?” Thorin said scathingly. Dain hissed in displeasure and his advisors whispered loudly. “I consulted with persons I trusted, I talked to those who have wisdom, and knowledge that I don’t possess. I know my skills and weaknesses for I must work every day to take care of my people. I work for my bread and the bread of the widows and orphans of Azanulbizar. I see the suffering of our people first hand every day. I see how we’ve struggled to make a home for ourselves out of nothing. Yes, grandfather’s gold sickness was horrible. Yes, perhaps, we attempted to return to Khazad-dûm before the fullness of time. The time to reclaim Erebor is here, do you stand with me or will you cower in your halls and play at being king?” “Be gone.” Dain sneered, “The Royal Line of Durin is cursed, and they had been abandoned by Mahal. To side with you is to spit in his face." “What happened to honour? Where is the Khazad who stood with us at Azanulbizar?” Thorin retorted. “No matter, I’ve heard it all before: the stars proclaim they are with us, it is our heritage that we go to reclaim, the might of the Khazad-dim will always prevail. Bah! Be gone, Gazani! I will not have the likes of you in my halls.” “Izbad!” Thorin spat and then marched out of the ‘throne room’, grabbing his weapons on his way out. Balin and Thorin immediately left the Iron Hills without as much of a glance back. They had given Dain the impression that they wanted to build an army to retake Erebor by force and yet, had given no definite plans as to how to accomplish that. Mostly because they were not given a fair hearing, which in truth mattered little. Dain would be distracted into either building his own army for such an endeavour or plotting how to convince other Khazad from following the royal line of Durin. At least Dain would be busy looking for ways to prevent them from an action that they weren’t taking. They stopped at an inn not far from the Iron Hills, but not close enough to be worrisome. They were talking quietly in a loud inn, so they didn’t really expect to be overheard. They thrashed out the two plans discussing the wisdom of each, the whys and wherefores that they when weighed together they might succeed or fail. Balin as always gave thoughtful advice. Neither wished to overcommit a large force of their people, as Thror had done against a greater force. Between Smaug and Azanulbizar, they had lost so many good Khazad. The losses of so many mountain kingdoms; Bar-en-Nibin-Noeg, Belegost, Khazad-dûm, Mount Gundabad, Nogrod, Nulukkizd, Grey Mountains, and most recently, Erebor ate at Thorin. All that remained of their once powerful and proud people and kingdoms were the Orocarni and Iron Hills. Settlements like their own in Ered Luin weren’t meant to be permanent; they were merely like the Iron Hills, a lesser mine for things like iron and coal since the fall of Belegost, but nothing that really made a Khazad creative like jewels, silver, Mithril, or gold. The halls and mines of Belegost had been flooded long ago. Had Mahal abandoned them? Were they being punished for something? Had they allowed their greed to put them on a path he did not approve of? Was Durin’s Bane the first sign of his judgement? All that remained of Durin’s folk’s assets was the mere holdings of the Iron Hills and the Blue Mountains. He was responsible for regaining some sense of pride in their line, Moria was beyond his reach, but perhaps, just perhaps, Erebor was within it. They never noticed a plainly dressed Khazad that had overheard their counsel and had taken their words to two others. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 7 Thorin had ridden back to Ered Luin to check things one last time with Dis before he and Balin left. They had arrived to find that the others had all left before they had returned: Oin, Gloin, Dwalin, Dori, Ori, Fili, and surprisingly, Nori. Dis had allowed Kili to go, if only because he had agreed to allow Ori to accompany them. Since he had time to breathe and be alone, he opened the leaf wrapped package from Gandalf. He almost couldn’t breathe when he saw what it contained. Not a ring, but a key and a map, the key that was given to the heir to the throne Under the Mountain upon their official naming as heir when they came of age. His father had it in his possession when Smaug arrived and while Thror lived, his father kept it. After the deaths of Frerin and Thror, Thrain had kept the last sigils of power to himself: the map of Erebor, the Key, and of course, the Ring of Power. When his father had left with only a supposedly trusted adjunct Nar, he had worried for his father was not well. The loss of so many, including Thror and Frerin, had eaten away at his mind. A part of him that shamed him was almost glad when he heard that his father was gone. For he knew that the madness that had taken his father and grandfather was such that given the choice, they would rather have died rather then continue to exist mad. Thrain had comparatively been spoilt and had grown indolent due to his status as heir to the mountain kingdom. His hands no longer worked stone or metal and he busied himself with matters of state. Thorin, like Dwalin and Dori, had been young, mere months from finishing apprenticeships when they fled the Lonely Mountain. Adjusting to the change was easier for them, until Dori he lost his parents and was left to raise his much younger siblings at a time he should be starting his own family. Thorin had no One, no family beyond Dis and her children. It was too much that Gimli had been born and raised in poverty, yet to allow an heir to be born in squalor instead of in a proper mountain once more would not do. Thorin took out a thong of leather and tied it so the key to Erebor hung from it. Ifm they were successful, he would pass it to Fili, who would no doubt rule their people in time. Thorin had little hope of a family of his own and all his hopes for their line rest with Fili and Kili as well as any offspring they sired. Thorin added things to his saddlebags that he would need for a far longer journey then just to the Iron Hills. Adding the map because it would be needed ere long and to part with it would be impossible now that he had them. XoooooX They; Thorin and Balin, travelled with less speed to The Shire then they had to the Iron Hills because they had time and spending any time with soft folk such as The Shire’s inhabitants made Thorin’s hardy flesh crawl. They rode without much enthusiasm and spent much of the ride in quiet personal deliberation. The sun was quite low in the sky and their stomachs had long since begun to complain for sustenance when they had finally located the village that supposedly contained a door marked with the Khazadul symbol for thief. They had left their ponies with an stable lad who said with a grin that he’d take good care of the animals. The two Khazad took up their packs and bedrolls and walked in the direction that they were told that Master Bilbo Baggins of Bag End lived. There was too much farming and the smithy looked small, but well-kept the brief glimpse that Thorin had as they past. Surprisingly, it seemed to be quite like a Khazad smithy in its arrangement. They passed a few small houses, if that’s what they were, built into the hill, they followed the ‘road’ called Bagshot Row until it ended at the largest house they’d seen yet. In the growing twilight, they spotted a green door with the Khazadul rune for thief painted on the door in glowing silver-blue, the colour of Mithril. They knocked on the door, which was surprisingly opened by Kili. “Hullo, uncle.” His youngest heir greeted him. Thorin was blasted by the smell of food. “Eating?” “We did try to wait, but the food would have gotten cold.” Kili shrugged, “Fili had Ori bring me a plate. Fili said we were to remove our boots, hang up our cloaks, and lay our weapons on the table beside the door for we come as guests and not conquerors.” Balin nodded, “Wise, he has learned well.” “Who all is here?” Thorin frowned. “Oin and Gloin arrived not long ago and I showed them the way after they washed up. I arrived first with Fili, Dwalin, Ori, Nori, and Dori. Then we had some unexpected guests, they overheard you at an inn near the Iron Hills. Didn’t that wizard mention secrecy?” Kili asked sheepishly. Thorin scowled, “We were careful, we shouldn’t have been overheard given the din at the Inn.” Balin had already removed his weapons, boots, and cloak. Kili grinned, “I’ll show you to the washroom if you want to wash up before dinner. You want to do so, uncle?” Thorin cuffed the cheeky youth and stripped off his weapons, boots, and cloak placing them with the others. “We’ll wash first, brat.” The washrooms were rather nice and Thorin wondered just how good of a thief that Gandalf’s hobbit was. Once they had washed up, Kili proudly led them to a well-appointed dining room where their comrades as well as a few unfamiliar faces were mostly drinking ale and relaxing. Fili, his heir nodded, “It is good to see you. How did your meeting with Cousin Dain go?” Thorin scowled, “Poorly. He will not agree to give us even one axe. He claims that even if the signs were favourable that it is too dangerous to attempt to retake Erebor. That fool says that this will end as terribly for us as the attempt by my grandfather to take Khazad-dûm. We lost my grandfather Thror, my brother Frerin, Dis’ One, and Dori’s father as well as others. He has deemed us Gazani, like the homeless refugees of Norgost and Belegost. I deem him izbad, a Khazad lord with low origins.” “If we fall in the attempt, it leaves Cousin Dain, leader of the highest ranking line of Durin still in power.” Fili frowned. Kili had entered in Thorin’s wake with his plate, “Thorin said we were all here.” Kili was about to add more to his plate when a well-timed shake of Fili’s head stalled him. Thorin and Balin mostly split what was left between them while Kili gratefully finished what they left. While the food wasn’t quite what they were used to, it was at least better then what he had been served over a week since at the Prancing Pony. “Who are these three?” Thorin glared at the unfamiliar Khazad. “Broadbeam exiles from Khazad-dûm; cousins Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur. They overheard you talking about a quest that would include free ale.” Fili offered. “Bombur can cook and apparently, the other two are skilled with their weapon of choice. I accepted them until you arrived to decide.” Thorin frowned, “We could use all the axes we can get with, since Dain has abandoned us.” “We’re not part of the Royal line and we are not as closely related as many of you.” Bofur began with an awkward bow, “We would be happy to come, if you would accept us, Great Thorin Oakenshield.” “As dwarves who came from Khazad-dûm when it fell into darkness, you are welcome.” Thorin frowned, counting the assembled company, “It seems we number thirteen.” The assembled Khazad-dim shivered and winced, thirteen was a fell and unlucky number. His elder heir watched as the hobbit turned to Thorin. “I am merely a Hobbit, your majesty,” their shy host started. “Thorin will be fine.” Thorin frowned. The hobbit swallowed, “Thorin, then. I’ve always wanted to follow in my mam’s footsteps and travel. If you would allow me, I would like to come.” Thorin sniffed, his impressions of this ‘thief’ were not quite what he had hoped to find, “And what sort of assistance would you offer? Can you fight?” Bilbo sighed, “I can use a bow, mam learned from the elves and even made me a hobbitling-sized bow when I was young. Now I can use her bow, but it is a little small for me and I can fashion crude arrows. I can also cook and clean. When we stop, I can do washing. I have my mother’s inheritance and her dowry. The Tooks are rich and unless they go on adventures it just sits there. I have some healing skills in manner of the elves. I’m useful in a crisis, I don’t panic.” Fili seemed surprised, this Bilbo was surprisingly shy and stammered a lot but to have him possess the ability to be strong in crisis was a boon. It seemed to agree with Gandalf’s words that they were ‘strong in a pinch’. “Then we shall number fifteen. If our host will allow we will stay two days. We can purchase more supplies and allow our ponies a rest.” Thorin mused “We only have two ponies.” Bofur shook his head, “One for Bombur and the other for supplies.” Bilbo offered, “Well, I am a Took and they keep ponies for trading missions; rare though they be. I can send a letter to my cousin, the Thrain and ask to purchase ponies on your behalf. That is if you are in need of them. I would like two myself; one for supplies especially healing and food as well as one to ride but I haven’t learned to ride. I lived here all my life with sporadic visits to my Took kin.” Thorin nodded sharply, “If you feel that they will deal honestly, I will allow it. If we are to travel together, we will need more ponies then. I know that we will need supply ponies as well as supplies.” “I have plenty of food stored here, but it might be wise to buy what we can. If I can join you,” Bilbo smiled shyly, “I will send for my cousin Drogo and his wife Primula of the Brandybucks. They live at Brandy Hall since her father be Master of Buckland. Drogo is a close cousin through his wife who is the daughter of my Aunt Mirabella. I’ll ask them to stay here and watch the house. My neighbours the Gamgees can watch over Bag End until they arrive. Leaving it uninhabited is asking for both trouble and squatters. I’ll leave papers with Gaffer that leaves Bag End temporarily in the hands of Drogo if he can be spared. If he can’t, then Gaffer will guard it, the Gamgees are the loyalist hobbits you can find and good hearted. Bell is our best healer, second only to my mam. I believe any daughters she bears will be a healer. They are lately married young, but stoat-hearted.” “It is your home to do with as you wish. I left my halls in the capable hands of the Lady Dis.” Thorin nodded. “It was her only requirement to gain her approval to take her sons with me.” That wasn’t entirely true, but the hobbit didn’t need to know that. Kili grinned, “I thought she’d make me stay.” “Perhaps, I should have left you, so if we fall then we would have someone to carry on the royal line.” Thorin mused. Kili scowled. “You would have taken Ori and I would have been mad.” “Someone must record our deeds, men shearfha.” Ori said quietly. Bilbo frowned, “Why does your tongue sound like my own? Many of our words are Elvish but with similar pronunciation as yours. It is harsher.” Thorin scoffed, “I have little time for such foolishness.” When Thorin, Balin, and Kili had added the last of their supper to their plates Bilbo scurried off. Fili rose gesturing for Nori and Ori to join him, leaving the elders to enjoy their ale. After the meal, he discussed any incidents with Orcs during their travels, which wasn’t much after all it was merely a day’s ride from Ered Luin to the Shire and a few hours more from the border of The Shire to this place. It wasn’t quite his tastes, but it was more then he had expected. Then again, this skittish thing was a thief? If he were going to trust a thief; he’d most likely trust that Nori, whom Dwalin insisted loudly was a petty Khazad and was an embarrassment to the Line of Durin. He wasn’t xenophobic, but he believed that Thranduil had turned his back on them and broken their age old alliance. No one had wanted to help them, when they were driven from Erebor by the arrival of Smaug. He would not invite the Khazad of the Iron Hills to help them rebuild after retaking Erebor, yet he would reach out to the remnants of Nogord and Belegost, who still remained in the Blue Mountains despite the destruction of both mountain kingdoms. For they had stood with them at Azanulbizar and had helped them in Ered Luin; not all of them were petty dwarfs like Khîm and Nîm or those that doomed Norgrod. Perhaps, then they might have the strength to retake Mount Gundabad from the Orcs that had retaken it a second time just prior to Smaug’s arrival. It was said that Khîm had laid a curse on a hoard of gold that later doomed both Doriath and Norgrod. Were Khîm responsible, since the House of Durin had always remained firmly free of the taint of being labelled wicked and theirs was the only remaining ruling family that was still in power, it was up to Thorin to rally his Kindred. If he could strengthen Erebor, then in time he could colonize other places raising deserving Khazad to positions of authority. Dwalin was a good military leader, but he lacked the skill of diplomacy that his brother had in abundance. Gloin had never been touched by gold sickness like Thror, he saw working with money as a profession rather then a hunger. He would be a fine choice to oversee the main vaults for he was one of the more honourable Khazad that Thorin had ever known. Gloin was a cousin to be sure and the One of his niece; a fine match that his father and Oin had consented to. Gimli was a testament to the strength of their union having been born soon after they were bound together. He had hoped for more, but Gimli was the first child since the Battle of Azanulbizar to have been born. Kili, Ori, and Gimli were the youngest Khazad they had in Ered Luin; some of their people were upset because only the royal line had children in recent years. Raising young ones in exile was difficult, Khazad-dim were hardy, it was true for Mahal made them that way, but they craved a home. They craved access to the materials that gave their crafts meaning. Many of the specialty smiths in Ered Luin had little hope of using their skill, like Kili. who was a jeweller by trade. He could not use his skills without precious metals and jewels. Fili was a musician and that grated. They were both passable smiths, but they were far more artistic then he was. He was a swordsmith, but it had been years since he had truly designed and crafted a sword. He mostly sharpened tools; while men looked down on Khazad-dim and distrusted them, they still acknowledged their skill with metal. Their shy host had since disappeared with Fili, Nori, and Ori; then the Khazad-dim returned with desserts. Fili seemed to be intrigued with their host and prospective thief, for he immediately began clearing the platters. Soon after his heir disappeared with dishes from their meal, Gandalf finally arrived. They began discussing matters in earnest then. By the time Fili and their host returned with a crock and bowls, the fat Khazad had fallen asleep and his cousins were silently conversing in Iglishmêk. Dwalin was discussing tales of their travels with Gloin while Oin stared moodily into his ale mug. “After dessert, uncle,” Fili began, “perhaps, you can repair to a place more conducive to discussion. We are weary from our travels, but some need rest.” Dori rose, “I can offer little help or advice in this matter. I will yield to Balin who is more learned then myself. I will see that my kin are set to rest. If our hands are needed to prepare rooms, our host shall have them. One to look after our greater number is ungracious.” “It isn’t right to have guests work.” Bilbo stammered. Gandalf chuckled, “The stubbornness of dwarrows. Take what is freely given, Bilbo and let them help. The sooner all is made ready, the sooner we can go to bed.”Bilbo gave in at that advice, “Then Master Fili can help Master Nori with the dishes. Dori can help me prepare rooms.” Bofur rose, “I’d be glad ter help Master Hobbit.” “Ori and Kili will help as well. They can ready the baths.” Fili decided. Kili’s voice had a naughty tone, “Baths?” “Which will be taken separately,” Fili said sternly. Kili said in a petulant voice, “Thorin, tell him not to be so mean.” “If he says separately, he has good reason.” Thorin said refusing to look up from his dessert or discussion. “The fires beneath the water vats need to be lit after they are filled.” Bilbo stammered, “I usually keep the circles laid with wood but the vats empty.” “Ori is smart.” Fili praised, “He’ll figure out the trick of it.” The young scribe replied at once, “It can’t be too difficult.” After the other Khazad and their host departed to get the baths and bedchambers ready, Gandalf lead them to a library to discuss matters. Once the door was shut, Thorin glared at the wizard, “I think that your hobbit boasts. He can’t be quite as strong is a crisis as you and he claimed. He stutters! He’s nervous and he’d likely run from danger then jump in.” “He will surprise you, his mother travelled all the way to Imladris to request training by Elrond himself alone. He’s got a dash of Took wildness and all the sturdiness of a Baggins. Bilbo’s quiet of foot, has sharp ears, he cooks, cleans, hunts, has healing training, and skill with a bow. What more do you want?” Gandalf frowned. “Nerve.” Thorin said sharply. “He has to have nerve,” Gloin said thoughtfully, “he did welcome us into his home, had dinner ready. and clearly didn’t know how many to expect, but he had enough food for all of us. He has plenty of room and he didn’t throw us out. He wants to come with us and doesn’t need any pushing, bribing or cajoling. I say test him, if he has skill with a bow have Kili challenge him. He claims to have healing training from someone who was trained by Elrond of Rivendell, have Oin question him. He has contacts and offered to intercede with persons who can sell us ponies and supplies. See if he follows through. Whether he is a thief or not; well, we’ll have to see but he might be exactly what Tharkûn and himself claim.” “Gloin is wise in his advice.” Balin mused. “That would be the wisest course of action. You did say we would stay two days.” “Fine.” Thorin groused. Oin, Dwalin, and Gloin then excused themselves to see if bedchambers and baths were ready. Thus leaving Gandalf and Balin to talk to and argue long into the night. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 8 Thorin left his room and encountered Balin, Oin and the Khazad who was proclaimed to be a cook. They made their way towards the smell of coffee. “I have different options for steeping tea. There are the balls for one mug but I have paper that we use for mixing. Sometimes I’ve used cheesecloth.” Bilbo offered, “Especially when using tea as a medium for medicine.” “Did you say medicine boy?” the eldest Khazad asked holding his ear trumpet closer to his ear. After all Gloin had recommended that his brother quiz the hobbit to see if his claims of healing knowledge wasn’t just boastful talk. Bilbo blushed, “Yes. My mam was a healer trained by Master Elrond.” Oin snorted, “Elves. For all their faults their skills at healing aren’t exaggerated. They are keener with grave wounds and poisoning. If you have even a little of their skill you might prove to be worthy of this fool’s quest of Thorin’s.” Thorin glared at the old Healer, “Watch yourself Oin. Cousin or no.” Oin sniffed, “I am far too old to be afeared of you Thorin I knew you in swaddling. It was my master and I who brought you into this world from your mother’s body so don’t you be telling me a thing or two. King you maybe in name but even a healer can restrain a king lawfully for his own good.” Gloin barely restrained a snigger. “Gloin you are not too old for me to put over my knee.” Oin snapped. Bilbo chuckled under his breath much to Thorin’s . Bombur had shuffled to his side, “Buns? My family is awful partial to me buns fer breakfast. I make sweet rolls. It won me wife.” Bilbo smiled, “I’ll just make omelettes with the eggs. You need anything besides flour, eggs and milk?” “Eight eggs, a small bowl of butter, one mug of hot water, eight mugs of flour, half a mug of honey, half a small spoon of salt, one mug of sugar, large spoon of cinnamon, vanilla liquid and milk?” Bombur asked. “Oh and quick yeast if ya’ve got it.” Thorin watched Bilbo fetched all the ingredients housed in the kitchen and set them upon the workspace with a large bowl. “I’ve got to fetch butter, meat and onions from the cellar. Master Fili I would be most grateful if you and master Nori would fetch me tomatoes and peppers from the garden.” Delegation and leadership seemed to be skills that Bilbo had besides cooking. Fili rose grinning. “Anything to help Bilbo I am as ever always at your service.” Again with Fili’s willing assistance, there was something brighter and more hopeful about his heir. Fili was always willing to help Dis, he did as much around the house as he could with her having to care for Kili and Ori until they were weaned. Bilbo flushed again and darted down the stairs calling back, “Master Dori can help you with Tea or Coffee.” Thorin noticed Dori turn red but he was quick to do as Bilbo ordered while Dwalin glared at Nori who stiffened like he’d been stabbed. Something was up with the Ri brothers…he was certain of that. Thorin watched as his Khazad-dim were quick to follow Bilbo’s orders, there was something almost worthy of respect about the Hobbit. Perhaps, he would have to revise his first impression. Dori offered them immediately their usual tea or coffee, Dori had changed. Then again, they all had after the Loss of Erebor. Dori went from a weaver’s apprentice to weaver to parent. Balin rose through the ranks of advisers to become the adviser to the King of Durin’s folk. Dwalin became captain of the guard and obsessed with proving that Nori was a thief… Gloin came of age, was bound to his niece and had sired a son. After giving them all coffee and tea, Dori set about heating more water while the unfamiliar Khazad pulled out plates and silver eating utensils for breakfast. Then Thorin led Kili, Oin and Dwalin out of the kitchen only to encounter Gandalf in the hall. Thorin ignored the wizard as he entered the dining room. Since Kili hadn’t joined them after dinner to discuss matters due to his readying the baths, Thorin informed him about his wish for him to test Bilbo’s boast of being a decent archer. Thorin wasn’t surprised to receive a grin and a promise to do as he was told from Kili who loved to get out of chores and playing with his bow was like a treat. Balin often cooked for Dwalin Thorin knew that so he supposed that Balin had decided to help put the meal on the table. They were famished by the time their party arrived with food, eating utensils and dishes. The meal was rather quiet as breakfast usually was; after the dishes were cleared away Thorin continued the talk from the night before with Gandalf and Oin with Dwalin and Balin joining them when they could. By the time Dwalin arrived they were exchanging travelling tales; incidents with Orcs, where they had observed Elven and human rangers. Dwalin joined them and added his experiences so they had a fuller picture. The five of them discussed matters with the same easy comradeship that Thorin and his advisors had shared since his father and grandfather had passed on leadership. Gandalf seemed to fit in well with his council and that made things easier…”Dwalin!” Thorin snapped.Dwalin blinked at him, “Yes Thorin?” “I asked you if you suffered any injuries while travelling.” Thorin scowled. Dwalin sighed, “We had the expected altercations with Orcs but we had Dori and myself. We guarded the princes well. Prince Kili made his attacks from a tree and Prince Fili was giving him cover. Ori had my war hammer and paired with Nori who had his long-handle mace. Dori’s like an army unto himself and Ori has his strength. If Ori wasn’t such sedentary bookworm then he would be a fine shield brother to Kili. He is skilled with my hammer and not many can wield it.” “Ori was only trained because Dis and I insisted you train them together in at least the rudimentary skills of a warrior. Then when they were fifty-five we had them enter their apprenticeships. A jeweller of all the things my youngest heir is…an archer and a jeweller. While I respect Fili, a musician isn’t quite the trade I wanted my heir to have.” Thorin grumbled.Balin sighed, “You forget yourself Thorin. Kili is a skilled Arrowsmith as well as a fletcher because he wanted to make his own weapons. Fili created his own duel swords, he maybe a musician but he can make his own weapons the same as his brother. They have their trades but they are skilled smiths in their own right just like their uncle. You are a sword smith but you have been working as blacksmith have you not these last years?”“Dori is a weaver yet he is a tinker by trade. The Lady Dis is a healer and has taken up other duties since the fall of Erebor.” Oin chastised, “When we retake our mountain and you are King under it as you should be why does it matter what skills or trades your heirs have? You will be famous throughout our people, hailed as Thorin the Reclaimer.”“Yes, Balin has wisdom.” Gandalf said gruffly, “Your heirs are wise in their own way and will no doubt surprise you. They have skills that will come in handy. Having a second healer is always wise. Hobbits are swift of foot and silent as your nephew is no doubt learning since you sent him to test Bilbo’s skill with a bow. If he even has a small amount of his mother’s skills Aüle will have surely blessed you. Perhaps Fili can teach him some swordsmanship. He may have need of it.” Thorin scowled, “I have not agreed that this hobbit may accompany us.” Even if he were slightly intrigued by their host… “Then we shall remain unlucky thirteen.” Gandalf retorted.“Bah! I do not trust these hobbits. They know nothing of the real world. They live in their peaceful worlds and their borders lay wide open.” Thorin snorted. Gandalf chuckled, “Ah you have never met a Brandybuck Militia member or a Took ranger. They protect the borders. You were observed and allowed entrance to the Shire because I informed them that you were coming and under my protection.”Balin stroked his beard thoughtfully, “Rangers?”“The First Thain received his title from the kings of Arnor. They were trained by his rangers as spies and fighters. They no longer report to the King of Arnor but they still keep the training. The Master of Buckland was founded by a previous Thain and he too ensured that his militia was properly trained. They are required to drill as well as serve patrols just as the Tookaborough Rangers do. This area is guarded by the Sheriffs but it is the same. The prospective sheriffs are trained by either the rangers or the militia whichever is scheduled to train new recruits. They are quite selective, not all hopefuls are taken.” Gandalf reprimanded. “Bilbo was once invited to join the Rangers but chose to stay with his mother after his father passed to help her. He is not a layabout lord but rather a master who works along side his men and encourages them by working just as hard.”“Hmph.” Thorin grumbled, having seen what being a layabout had done to Thror and Thrain he was pleased to find that this hobbit was more like himself and was willing to work.“We will need farmers and those skilled at such things perhaps despite the distance we can talk some of these hobbits into coming to Erebor in time.” Balin mused. “Perhaps,” Gandalf said dryly. “I still am of the opinion that the map must be looked over by Lord Elrond. If you travel with Bilbo who is his apprentice’s son you will be welcomed.” “I don’t trust elves. Especially after how Thranduil abandoned us and refused to help when Smaug attacked. They wouldn’t even grant us safe passage though their forest. They shut their borders and turned their backs. I have not forgotten.” Thorin spat. “Elrond is not Thranduil and he has never denied assistance when he can give it. Elrond has fought beside dwarves and has learned that they are worthy allies.” Gandalf clenched his fist about his staff, “He can read your map as I cannot. If I knew you would be so stubborn I would not have returned it.”“That map is my inheritance, it is rightfully mine.” Thorin snarled reaching to his hip for the sword he did not have presently. “Stubbornness of dwarves! You fool that map is just as much your nephews’ birthright as it is yours.” Gandalf tossed back. “It is for their sake that I retake Erebor!” Thorin roared.”Have you asked them if they want this mountain? Have they ever seen it? They weren’t born there. They don’t see it the way you do. To you five, Dori and Gloin it is home. To Dwarves like Nori, Fili, Kili, Ori and Gimli it is not.” Gandalf snapped. “Nori follows out of loyalty to his brother. Fili follows for love of you. Kili and Ori come because if this company fails they believe that you will deny them the wish of their heart.””That damn Nori! He comes for the thrice-cursed dragon’s treasure.” Dwalin spat. “I have met Nori on my travels, he is a far kinder and reliable dwarf then you give him credit for.” Gandalf glared at the warrior, “Tread carefully Dwalin, son of Fundin before you find yourself the one with a lost treasure.” “Ha! Nori will steal something of mine! When he comes for it I will kill him.” Dwalin punched his palm with satisfaction. Gandalf snorted, “You will not have the chance, have you not looked at Nori, son of Stor? He has the face of a soldier going to war who knows he will die. Nori has given up his hope, his desire for life. He has chosen a path that will end with his death. He is going to seek death not treasure. His eyes are empty of life, his heart bereft of hope. He found his One, the one Mahal himself made for him and he recoiled. He is going to the stone; he has all but breathed his last. Nori is already dead and his companions know not.”Balin, Ori’s mentor frowned, “He has abandoned his One? How can he do so?” “He feels that he will never measure up to them and that they deserve better. A pity because they would prove the greatest weapon Erebor had ever seen. Nori has no future because he will throw it away, the first chance he gets he will seek death either on his blade or an enemy’s. He cares not, such a one is a danger not only to himself but to his companions.” Gandalf sniffed. “A pity that he is only worth that of an axe, when he falls who will mourn? His brothers and his friend, is it a shame that only three perhaps four will mourn him? A dwarf who sacrificed his own honour for his family? As Dis’ favourite of her friend’s children has he ever called for you when he was in trouble? Never. You are all fools, Dwalin most of all. Nori is the strongest of you all, he has faced challenges and dangers you know not and yet you call him weak, a coward and worse for you call him petty.” Dwalin crossed his arms and continued to scowl. “Tell me Oin what happens when a One that is unclaimed dies.” Gandalf asked glaring at each of them in turn. “Of course it is nothing.” Dwalin spat, “If they aren’t recognized, why would it affect their would-be-One?” “Their hearts become stone.” Oin snapped. Thorin blinked, “What? Dori claims his One was my brother Frerin who perished at Azanulbizar.” Oin waved his hand, “Stone chips and splinters, I have known that was a lie for a long time. He must like Nori think he is unworthy, he told that lie to avoid being courted. A Khazad who has outlived their One is rarely courted unless it is necessary. Who would want him? He was an orphan with no powerful relatives; his father died at Azanulbizar, his mother in childbirth and he was left to raise two young dwarflings alone. I withdrew my objection when I learnt he would go so far and that he had the Lady Dis’ support. To sacrifice his own happiness so that his siblings might have some stability was something few would do. I was lucky when I took your niece in Thorin I had a mate who helped rear her. Granted I have lost him since, he did not have my constitution but he did live to see our foster daughter bond and give us a grandchild of sorts. For all my skill we never had a child between us. Gloin’s wife Arisa was a gift and so too is Gimli.” “Dori is the strongest of us all.” Balin mused. “Yes, that strength is in Nori as well. If he felt he had something worth living for he would prove a great weapon and a shield of Erebor.” Gandalf said sharply. “Is his One among us?” Thorin frowned. “Perhaps, yet even you Thorin can’t force them to be Ones if they would rather die.” Gandalf chided. “I was thinking more of helping.” Thorin glared, “Is it Fili?” “No. Fili has found his elsewhere.” Gandalf rose. “I have something I must do.” He disappeared leaving the dwarf council full of debate. Finally, Thorin sent Dwalin after Fili. Kili was excited when he came in. “Uncle that Master Boggins is quite the archer. He’s better than I am. He can fire faster; he didn’t miss a mark and brought down more than I did for I had only one rabbit and one grouse but he had twice that. When he walks even the leaves are silent, Tharkûn was right! I couldn’t hear him and I was walking right next to him. Did you know that hobbits eat six meals? He was going to make a second breakfast! Dori and Fili told him that we only eat three so he said that we could have the rabbits and grouse for lunch instead.” Oin frowned, “How will he travel with us if he is used to eating so much?” Kili shrugged, “He said he’d eat only three with us while we’re here to get used to it. He said he wouldn’t even snack. He’s really serious about coming, won’t you let him join us?” Fili hurried into the dining room where Thorin was still meeting with Balin and Oin. “It seems this hobbit has some skill with a bow.” Thorin scowled at his heir. Kili frowned, “He’s better than me that’s for sure. He brought down more than I did…” “He has graciously opened his home to us and even allowed one of us into his own private rooms to ensure that you had a room Uncle. He has cooked for us without complaint. Bilbo has offered to negotiate with his cousin for the sale of extra ponies as well as for supplies. He even told his uncle he was coming with us no matter what.” Fili frowned. “For this you dally with him?” Dwalin sniffed. Fili scowled, “I do not dally with Bilbo. Have you ever caught me dallying before? Unlike Kili here I have not as you know found my One among our people.” “You haven’t met enough to know.” Balin frowned. Fili snorted, “I have met my One and my Heart found its other half. I am content. I am not the dallying sort. Now was I called here for a specific reason or is this just to pull rank?” Thorin snorted, “He’s won the heart and respect of both my heirs. This hobbit seems to be exactly what he claims, except perhaps for ‘good in a pinch’. That would need testing but can we truly bring such a one with us? What if he turns coward at the first test of danger?” Fili stiffened and crossed his arms leaning back in his chair showing his displeasure but said little. “I think that he is more then he seems.” Balin mused, “A second archer as well as a healer would be wise as we said before. Give him a chance cousin. At any rate the ponies and supplies he offered to help us obtain will be worth much in the long run even if he turns coward.” Thorin sniffed but accepted Balin’s advice. If it went belly up then well he could always say he never truly believed in the hobbit’s worth because he didn’t. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 9 The sleep that Thorin achieved that first night in Bag End was troubled and he would remember nothing of substance merely impressions. “Beloved…” Thorin looked around saw only darkness. “Who is there?” “I have been searching for you, my Heart. Come, come to Erebor. You are my strength in my weakness, together with the blessing of Illuvatar we will make all thing new. Together, we will lead your people into a second Golden Age.” “Come Thorin Oakenshield the Reclaimer. We will redeem the Line of Durin together. For your children and grandchildren will be like none Arda has ever seen. We will be called blessed. “ “Who are you?” Thorin asked the second voice. “So like my king that I am named for him.” The voice called out heartily. “I will wait for you, Thorin. Come quickly, but safely to me.” Thorin had never known the emptiness of an unbound Khazad until that point, he’d thrown all he had into feeding the widows and orphans of Azanulbizar. He craved satisfaction of the flesh, the embrace of his One, and the joy that his sister had shared with Jili before he fell at Azanulbizar. He was even envious of Kili for having found his One so young and to be so confident that Ori was his everything. Then he was embraced by fire but didn’t burn, it felt if he were standing in a forge crafting a sword that would be unrivalled. “Come Beloved, I wish to look upon you and see what good my master have wrought.” Thorin woke impatient to leave but conscious that they needed supplies and steeds. He grumbled his way through the day, his heart burning in his chest to reach Erebor and too look upon it. He remembered nothing of his dreams, he rarely did, but he was conscious of his birthplace’s voice calling him home. As consequence he was rather short with all and the closeness growing between Fili and their host grated. While he wouldn’t name the emotion as jealousy, that was what it was. XoooooooX Lunch was interrupted by the sound of shouts, ponies, and a cart. Bilbo rose to his feet, “My cousins from Buckland and the Thain sent someone.” Then he heard a loud knock coming from the direction of the front door. Bilbo and Fili left quickly, in a stunning imitation of Dis to answer it. The two returned soon after with a table leaf and more chairs: two to be exact. After luncheon, Bilbo introduced Ferumbras to Balin and Thorin. “Master Balin and Master Thorin, this is Ferumbras. Ferumbras is the representative sent by the Thane, and is considered his heir.” Ferumbras stepped forward and greeted the two khazads in the proper manner with a firm headbutt and the grasping for forearms. That itself surprised Thorin, who was begrudgingly finding this hobbit to be a more interesting specimen than his cousin, their host. Balin returned the greeting, “A pleasure to meet you. You can negotiate on the Thane’s behalf?” Ferumbras nodded, “Been doing that since he sent me out on trading missions years ago. Cousin Bilbo’s letter mentioned ponies and supplies?” “Yes to begin with. We’d also like to become trading partners once we get settled. Maybe even allow some Hobbits to farm the mountain in exchange for protection. If you have any hobbits interested in blacksmithing, we can negotiate apprenticeships.” Balin said politely. “How many ponies would you be wanting?” Ferumbras asked stroking his chin. “Ten if we can get them; mostly to carry supplies, but also one for your cousin.” Balin said with a non-committal shrug. Bilbo bowed, “I will leave you three to discuss business. I’ll pay for my own pony, my cousin knows I’m good for it. I’ll be in my study if I’m needed. I have business to discuss with my other guests.” Thorin waved them off dismissively; Bilbo’s business had not to do with him, it was this cousin that he had business with. Fili bowed, “I will take my leave Uncle. I have things I’d like to discuss with Bilbo’s cousins. Especially, the daughter of the Master of Buckland; she can tell me if any of her people might be interested in farming the mountain.” Thorin nodded sharply, at least while following their host like a puppy Fili still had his mind on proper matters. Fili followed Bilbo and his cousins out of the Dining room The three fell to negotiation; with Thorin sipped what was left of his coffee while letting Balin hash out the negotiations because his right hand had long since proven his worth at such things. Thorin frowned at Dori and the Khazad called Bofur when they entered, “Yes?” Dori swallowed, “We thought you’d be thirsty so we brought some tea.” “Yes, of course. Thank you.” Balin said absently. Dori seemed to have expected that, for he said nothing as Bofur followed Dori around holding the tray. Dori set down a teacup and poured the tea, setting a biscuit down on a napkin in front of each person. Just as he was setting Balin’s down, the elder Khazad looked up. Thorin watched as his advisor’s eyes opened wider and there was a spark of recognition in them. Balin blinked, “That’s why you always seem to hover around me.” Dori stumbled back, “Excuse me…” Bofur stepped forward to finish serving tea to them, the young Khazad’s apparent pleasure it was Ferumbras’ turn. “Here you go. Bofur at your service.” Ferumbras looked up, “Why thank you.” Balin started to get up. Bofur held up a hand, “No no, you have work to do no doubt. I’ll look after Master Dori. I’ve got an idea of what is wrong with him. Come find me before you go, Master Ferumbras. Maybe you could show me that pub I’ve heard about?” The hobbit blushed, “The Green Dragon? I’ve got plans to stay there a day or so.” Bofur grinned, “Then when you’re done with business maybe we can spend sometime together.” Thorin cleared his throat and returned them to the business at hand, all this flirting and nonsense was getting on his nerves. “You were saying we could only have eight ponies?” Bofur left them to negotiate and probably went to find Dori. Ferumbras coughed, “Yes, eight. While we do raise ponies, we need them for trading missions as well as farming you see. Eight would be the maximum we could spare, and then there is problem of supplies. The longer a journey is and I’m not asking how long because it is none of my business, the more supplies you need.” “Where we are going is none of your concern,” Thorin grumbled. “Concern? It is indeed my concern because you are taking my cousin Bilbo along,” Ferumbras frowned, “We are both the descendents of Gerontious, whom we call Old Took. Bilbo was my grandfather Isumbras’ sister son, he’s family. When his mother died, father tried to convince him to move to the Great Smials but he refused. I admire his stubbornness and willing to tell them where to get off. I can imagine that his Baggins family will be highly displeased with his taking off on an adventure but his Took kin will applaud him for it. The Brandybucks will be jealous they hadn’t gotten a chance. I know that my cousin Esmerelda will be jealous and she is to bond to a Brandybuck herself.” “You’re very close you hobbits, aren’t you.” Balin mused. “We care about one another in our own ways, I had hoped that Bilbo might give in and join the Tookaborough Rangers or join me on a trading mission after Aunt Belladona died, but he asked not.” Ferumbras shrugged. “Perhaps, there is more to this hobbit if he inspires such loyalty.” Thorin muttered. It was sometime before the specifics of how much supplies and what they were to be comprised of were satisfactorily hashed out between Balin and the representative of the Thain. Ferumbras rose, “I will seek out that Khazad Bofur and share a pint of ale with him before I ride back to the Great Smials. I will return as quickly as possible for I sense that you are in a great hurry. Hopefully, I can have it all ready to ride back tomorrow.” “The sooner, the better.” Balin nodded, “we’ve money set aside for such a purpose and though we can’t pay extra at this time for the great service you have given to us and your father, we’ll give the Took colonists first choice of smial location and farms.” Ferumbras took Balin’s forearms in farewell and headbutted him, “In the name of the Thain, I thank you and it is a pleasure doing business with Khazad. I hope that this is the first of many mutually beneficial transactions.” It was more in their favour, Thorin thought smugly, Balin had negotiated the better end on their side. Thorin was sure with the addition of the ponies and supplies that their quest would be off to a good start. When it came to planning and preparation at least the hobbit that Gandalf had insisted they take, had at least proven his worth. When it came to orcs and other dangers that would show where he was ‘good in a pinch’ was yet to be proven. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 10 By the time Ferumbras arrived, they had been at Bag End two days longer then Thorin had wished but they were far more prepared then they had been when Thorin and Balin had ridden away from their residence in Ered Luin. Because Bilbo’s riding skills weren’t quite ‘satisfactory’, Fili insisted that he ride with him until he was comfortable. Thus they had Bilbo’s two ponies tied by a rope to Fili’s pony. Oin was insistent on taking one of the supply ponies and loading it up with as much of the healing supplies as the Hobbiton’s resident healer could spare as well as some small emergency kits to each supply pony. Dori had claimed to have packed a variety of teas and plenty of coffee for the journey. Thorin wasn’t of they opinion that they’d be shopping or stopping anywhere. He was being pulled in the direction of Erebor more strongly with each waking and sleeping hour. They rode out at dawn, passing through Bree which was almost at the edge of the Shire; which Thorin would be most pleased to see the back off. Bofur was riding beside his heir and the hobbit while Thorin was up front with Gandalf and Balin but he could hear their conversation clearly for the wind carried it to him. “You alright Bilbo?” Bofur asked having ridden up to their right. Bilbo smiled at him, “Yeah. This is as far from home as I’ve been in all my life. I’ll be okay. I really want to come.” Bofur said, “It’s a nice place you all got here; wouldn’t mind coming again.” Bilbo laughed, “You’ve gotten Ferumbras happy, I haven’t seen him so flustered in all my life.” “That Ferumbras is a good-looking kid.” Bofur said quietly. “He’s my age,” Bilbo chuckled, “He’s no kid among hobbits, he’s only fifty.” “That’s a kid.” Bofur’s voice clearly had a frown. “Not when we hit adulthood at thirty-three.” Bilbo replied. Bofur grinned, “I suppose that would be true.” They were now out of Bree and were not far from the borders of the Shire. They rode for hours. Bombur and Bifur distributed sandwiches that he’d clearly made during the hour that was usually luncheon. XoooooX They rode for hours more until Balin with Thorin’s grudging approval after being lectured by Gandalf and his advisor about pushing too hard sent Nori back to tell their company that they’d decided to call it a night and were going to find a place to camp. It was quite dark and only with a torch lit with flint and pyrite by Gloin more helped them find enough wood for a fire. Fili, Kili and Ori set out to find wood while Nori and Dori found stones for a hearth. Thorin busied himself with tying up the ponies with Dwalin, while Bilbo went to help Bombur presumably with dinner. Their two cooks had some dried meat and a few flasks of water that they poured into an iron pot. They tossed in spices and with the wood that the younger Khazad-dim brought back they quickly build a roaring fire. They had some wrapped biscuits that they warmed in a skillet on the side of the fire and tossed in some vegetables from the packages. Dori put on a pan of water most likely for tea because coffee would only keep them up longer. After all, Thorin thought with a shrug they would be up before dawn anyway. Soon the smell of the stew was making them hungrier. They all brought out cups and bowls to have Bombur ladle the stew into. Bilbo sat beside Fili on a log and blew on his stew for a bit warming his hands. It wasn’t really that cold it was colder in Ered Luin, the farther South they went the warmer it would be but even in summer well without the sun the temperature always dropped Thorin knew from experience. After they’d eaten their fill and the pot was empty Bifur and Bofur went to wash the dishes in the stream before setting them aside. Dwalin volunteered for first watch which was not unusually but much appreciated, Thorin thought. Nori and Dori slept near the packs that had been stacked close to the fire. Fili and Bilbo put their bedrolls together, as did Kili and Ori. Balin had lain his right beside Dori’s which somewhat surprised some of their company. Thorin of course had placed his bedroll close Balin’s. Bombur, Bofur and Bifur had laid theirs together as well. There was a lot of huddling for warmth really. Dwalin added more wood to the fire so it blazed just enough to keep animals away. Gandalf merely leaned against a tree and closed his eyes. Thorin was exhausted but his growing impatience did nothing to keep him from sleep. XoooooX After breakfast Thorin was impatient to leave and after a quick wash they loaded back onto the ponies again and took off with Gandalf and Thorin leading the way. Thorin didn’t really care if he was acting more like he was rushing to meet someone rather then to reclaim a lost home… They travelled for days with each seemingly a repeat of the previous day. XoooooX It was a seemingly normal camp when Bilbo set out with Nori to fetch Ori and Kili who had slipped away no doubt for some privacy by taking the ponies to graze. Thorin had no idea something was wrong until Ori ran in looking mussed. The youngest Khazad fell to his knees gasping, “Troll! Nori said. It’s taken the ponies.” “You left our prince with Nori?” Dwalin snarled. “They ordered me to come back to get help.” Ori protested. “Well Bilbo did and Kili didn’t say not to.” Fili growled, “You left my brother who has no weapon, my One and your own brother alone with Trolls around? What were you doing that allowed Trolls to steal our ponies?” Kili stepped between Fili and Ori, “It was my fault! We got distracted. I won’t have you yelling at Ori.” Dwalin snapped, “What have I told you about leaving your weapons behind? What if the troll had found you instead.” Fili stormed off, “I’m not leaving my One to face a troll alone.” Thorin followed his heir with much of their company following leaving Bombur and Bifur in the camp. They followed the trail of the Troll, it was easy to find really because of the stench. The longer Thorin brooded about Kili’s irresponsibility the more he wished that he’d left him with Dis. Ones were supposed to balance and temper their mates, not join them in being irresponsible. They heard the shocked cries and loud thuds from what must be the trolls. It merely spurred them on faster. To their surprise they heard a Khazad battle cry and found Norri was running between the legs of the one troll left with two knives that clearly bit into the flesh of the trolls who immediately fell. The one that Nori attacked fell into the fire with a yell. Nori’s yell was followed by the shouts of their comrades. Who proceeded to deal with the three fallen trolls, with two blinded and one lamed they were easy to dispatch. Once the trolls were dead Fili was yelling, “Bilbo! Where are you?” Nori smirked, “Up a tree.” Dori was shaking Nori and trying to lecture him about recklessly endangering himself. Thorin spotted Bilbo standing on the closest branch to the ground and waved cheerily, “I’m up here Fili.” Fili let out a sigh of relief, “Thank Mahal. Jump down, I’ll catch you.” Thorin took charge because he was their leader and he needed a distract, he did not want to think about Fili and the hobbit right now, “Kili, Ori free the ponies. Oin look them over for injuries.” Gandalf had ridden off ahead of them on his horse around noon and said he’d join up with them in a few days. “Ori!” Dori turned to yell at the youngest of the Khazad-dim after having finished lecturing Nori for his recklessness. Ori flinched and glared at Nori. Nori ignored him and went to join Fili and Bilbo. Oin was still looking over the ponies after Kili and Ori freed them. Once the ponies were freed Thorin and Dori lectured the younger Khazad about how their indiscretion might have doomed them. It didn’t take long before the two young Khazad were looking quite brow-beaten. “We should return to camp and move the ponies closer.” Dwalin drawled distracting Thorin from his lecture. “I think Ori will sleep between Balin and myself.” Dori said sternly. “Obviously he can’t be trusted.” Ori flinched once more. “Kili will sleep beside me.” Thorin growled. “Things could have been a lot worse. We might have been dinner instead of having dinner.” “Thorin’s pony has a sprain. Some of the ponies have bruises but they’ll be fine. We have extras for a reason.” Oin declared as he joined Thorin, Dori, Kili and Ori. “We better head back before Bombur eats everything.” Bofur advised. The elder Khazad minus Oin each led a pony back. Dori had Ori by the ear while a petulant Kili walked beside Thorin. Fili threw an arm around Nori’s shoulders and the other around Bilbo’s waist. “The heroes of the occasion!” he announced as they entered the camp. Which made their company break out in cheers for their most unlikely heroes; who would have thought that Dwalin and Gandalf’s thieves had both proved their worth by solving the troll problem mostly by themselves? Thorin poured Nori and Bilbo a cup of ale; they had a very meagre amount with them and to be treated with it was high honours indeed because they had earned it. They finally partook of their dinner and then gratefully went to bed. Dwalin as usual took first watch. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 11 While breakfast was being made, Dwalin and Gloin announced their intentions to search for the Trolls’ horde. Thorin agreed at once. “Trolls have been known to waylay all sorts of travellers. We might find anything.” So Nori, Fili, Gloin, Dwalin and Bilbo with them to search for the horde… Kili was being made to repack the ponies while Ori was forced to help with breakfast as punishment for their failure to watch the ponies properly. Thorin left Dori to keep an eye on their two miscreants. They followed Nori back to the Trolls’ camp. Nori and Gloin must have had a nose for gold because they found the horde right away. Nori because he was a thief according to Dwalin anyway; while Thorin knew that Gloin was a banker by trade and that was a sign that he had truly become worthy of that title… They hauled everything out of the cave to get a better look at it in the early morning light. They found a pile of weapons, chests of coin and jewels mostly. Thorin fished out a dusty sword. “I’ll take this.” He walked over to cleanish grass and began to wide the dust from the sword. He watched as Fili pulled out a knife, “Here Bilbo, you should have this.” Bilbo blushed, “I’ve got your knife and my bow already.” “Always good to have a second.” Dwalin grumbled. Fili nodded, “Dwalin’s right. I’ll try to teach you how to duel wield if we have time.” Nori picked up a knife as well and tested how sharp it was. “This is all I want.” “What no gold thief?” Dwalin sneered. “Got what I need. Don’t want anything else.” Nori retorted. Balin grabbed a long sword, “I’ll take this. I think it would suit Gandalf, it seems the right size anyway.” Thorin shrugged, “If you like.” He cared not whether their absent wizard who had helped not at all in the skirmish with Trolls received any reward. The blade that Fili had offered their hobbit seemed fair but Thorin had not examined it closely. His own was more then fair, it was perfectly balanced. It was not Khazad-made, it was clearly of Elven smiths but it was a fair blade; the likes of which Thorin had neither made nor seen the like. Gloin and Dwalin filled the chests and shut them. “We’ll bury them right quick.” Gloin announced. “The Earth will cleanse the taint of the Troll.” They all went back to enjoy a mug of coffee and a bowl of gruel before they started began to ride. XoooooX They rode for three hours and had just finished their luncheon on the road when they heard howls in the distance. Dwalin spat, “Wargs.” Thorin scowled. “Where there are Wargs, there are Orcs. Ride!” They urged their ponies on faster. Gandalf appeared beside them seemingly out of nowhere, “Follow me if you want to live!” Thorin grunted but led his company in the wizard’s wake. They rode faster but the sounds of the wargs were still growing louder. Then they heard the sound of horns. “Elves.” Thorin snarled glaring at Gandalf. “Reinforcements.” Gandalf snapped. Balin pulled the sword he’d been wearing on his back when they neared the elves on horseback, “Prepare to fight!” He held out the sword to Gandalf. Gandalf took it and held it up as he whirled around. “Make a stand here. Ori! Bombur take the supply ponies head west.” “Kili arrows.” Thorin barked. Kili would give them cover and it would keep his youngest heir out of harm perhaps. The hobbit turned around and then lashed himself to Fili. “I’ll fire.” Fili nodded, “Cover my back. I can guide the pony with my knees.” This hobbit wasn’t daunted by trolls and didn’t react to orcs? Having never left The Shire before how could he be so fearless? The party made ready for a stand. It was Bilbo’s first real battle for Fili’s sake; Thorin darkly hoped that he could do this. The lead warg let out a spine-chilling howl and went down, flinging its rider into the path of his fellow wargs. Thorin saw that the arrow was crude so it must be one of the hobbit’s. Fili had whirled around and seemed to be running from the warg pack. Kili was firing arrows and giving them cover as well. Both of their archers were aiming for the Orcs’ mounts and staying as far from the Orcs as possible; which meant both his heirs were safer then he was at present Thorin barely registered as he threw himself into the battle. Nori was hurling knife after knife at the oncoming Orcs, the knives seemed to have no end and each landed true. Dwalin’s students were clearly well-trained… Dori had taken Nori’s long-handled Mace and was swinging it like an axe felling Orcs like men cut grain with a scythe. Thorin, Dwalin, Gloin, Balin, Bofur, Oin, Bifur and Gandalf were joined by Elves with swords while Kili and Bilbo were joined by archers who helped them rain arrows down on their foes. It didn’t take long for the wargs and orcs lie dead upon the plain. “A mere scouting party.” One of the elves frowned. “Elladan?” Gandalf asked addressing the speaker. “Yes Gandalf. My father thought that you might be in need of assistance but we merely arrived in time to finish the battle that was already in your favour.” The elf bowed. “Any reason to strike a blow against those who slew our mother when she was already sick with grief and was on her way to the Grey Havens. We have a chosen mission to rid Arda of as many of them as we can.” “Every axe counts in a battle.” Fili said politely. “Bilbo and Kili wouldn’t have taken out as many of our enemy without your assistance.” “You have the look of a Durin.” The matching face to the one called Elladan said. “Fili, son of Jili. Heir of Thorin Oakenshield.” His heir said raising an empty fist in greeting. “Elrohir, son of Elrond. We were told to invite you to Rivendell if we came upon you.” The elf returned the gesture. Thorin scowled. “Your assistance was greatly appreciated.” Balin said gruffly. “It was wonderful to work together like in the stories father used to tell us of the Great Alliances when we were young.” Elladan said proudly. “He would tell us of Khazad heroes like Azaghâl who fought the dragon Glaurung. He also told us about the skill of Nogrod before it fell; of smiths Gamil Zirak and Telchar.” “Those were mere Broadbeams.” Dwalin snorted. “Wasn’t your great-grandfather Dain killed by a cold-drake? I never heard the entire story but surely like Azaghâl he went down fighting.” Elrohir asked excitedly. “Of course,” Thorin said pompously, “just like his son Thror died in battle against Azog.” Gandalf was irritating smug as the two parties rode together in the direction of Imladris. Thorin hadn’t refused the sons of Elrond’s invitation though he had refused Gandalf’s advice. They had proven their worth and it would be rude to ignore their invitation. They would be safer among the elves then sleeping a night on the plains where they might be attacked by more orcs during the night. Cutting through the territory of Elrond in peace would cut days out of their journey. If Elrond sent his own sons and heirs, then he must be in agreement with Gandalf about the need for a strong Erebor. While he distrusted elves, at least these sons of Elrond have proven their worth… They followed the Elven Rangers across the plains to the Fords of Bruinen. They rode along a path that followed the course of the river gently sloping until it came level with the falls. The falls were an awe-inspiring sight; they seemed to be created more then natural. As they rode by them it felt like they passed through something, what had seemed like just hills, mountain slopes and trees gave way to what seemed to be a delicately constructed village with gazebos, balconies and clearly Elven architecture. Bilbo gasped. “Is something wrong?” Fili called back worried. “It’s just more then I imagined.” Bilbo said in awe. “More what laddie?” Balin asked. “More everything, mother’s stories just didn’t do it justice.” “You’re a hobbit aren’t you? The only hobbit to grace our home was Lady Belladonna Took. You’re her son then?” one of the Elven twins asked. “Yes Bilbo Baggins, son of Bungo and Belladonna Baggins.” Bilbo said swiftly. “You’re a long way from home Master Baggin. Elrohir, son of Elrond.” The elf said. “Did she teach you archery?” “Mam’s bow be a wee bit short but I’ve grown accustom to it.” Bilbo shrugged. “It was made by the Lady Arwen.” “Lady Arwen has ruled Imladris since our mother’s departure.” Elrohir said with a warm smile. “She would be glad to meet the son of Belladonna.” “Would Lord Elrond be at home? I’ve wanted to meet my mother’s teacher for many years.” Bilbo asked hopefully. “Yes, he rarely leaves unless very pressing business calls him forth.” The elf replied. They were nearing the city by now. They had no sooner approached the very edge of the city then simply dressed Elves appeared. Their Elven companions leapt from their steeds and tossed their reins into their comrades’ hands. The other twin bowed, “Welcome travellers to Imladris, the Last Homely House East of the Sea. Come and be welcome.” A tall dark-haired lady with starry eyes approached, “I am Lady Arwen Undomiel of Rivendell, Daughter of Elrond.” “Thorin Oakenshield, Lord of the House of Durin. These are my nephews Fili and Kili.” Thorin said begrudgingly. “Balin, son of Fundin.” “Dwalin, brother of Balin and son of Fundin.” “Oin and Gloin, sons of Groin. “Dori, Nori and Ori, sons of Stor.” Their other companion Bofur introduced himself and his cousins. “My father is awaiting Gandalf and Thorin Oakenshield in the rotunda. I am to show our guests hospitality; you might say I am my father’s hostess.” Arwen said politely. Bilbo was exceedingly excited and once Fili helped him down he entwined their fingers and looked around like an excited hobbit child at a party. They immediately unloaded their personal belongings and slung them over their shoulders then their ponies were led away. “You are a hobbit are you not?” Arwen asked with a smile. “This is Belladonna’s son sister.” Elrohir replied. Arwen glowed, taking his hands in her, “How is Bella? Is she well?” Bilbo’s face fell. The elf maiden searched his face, “The gift to man has claimed her and she is in Mandos’ hall.” Bilbo nodded. “Well out of friendship I greet you. We welcome all who come in friendship or seeking aid.” Arwen said, “I will show you your rooms and baths while your leaders meet with my father.” Bilbo and his Khazad companions followed Lady Arwen into the village. Arwen led them into a very open building that had no window panes or outer doors really. Thorin and Bali followed Gandalf and the twin sons of Elrond to the meeting place with the Lord of Imladris. Despite being convinced of the protections that Rivendell no doubt possessed the ‘rotunda’ was far too open in Thorin’s opinion. There were no solid walls of stone to sit or stand before. Balin held up an empty fist in greeting to their host, “We thank you for the foresight of sending your sons and their fellow rangers. Were it not for their timely assistance, we may have been overrun by the orc scouts.” “It was at Gandalf’s advice that I sent them.” Elrond said gravely. “I am always wiling to give assistance to those who need it. The world has grown darker since the fall of Erebor. Like Gandalf, I am of the belief that a strong Erebor will help much in the dark days that are to come. I will gladly offer what assistance I can, be it my sons’ bow and blade, the protection of Imladris for the night or safe passage through my valley.” “While I don’t think much of elves,” Thorin grumbled, “I would prefer an alliance of sorts with you then Thranduil.” Elrond sighed, “Thranduil has spent too much time among his charges and they have little respect for Khazad-dim. Thranduil has spent little time with your kin; I have fought along side of them during many battles and learnt to respect them. I am still young compared to persons like Cìrdan and Galadriel. I am more easily able to adapt to change. I have raised my sons to respect all of the three kindred for the blood of the Eldar and the Edain run through their veins. There will come a time when another Alliance of Elves, Men and Khazad too must be forged. While I would prefer that someone far older and wiser stand as leader of the elves, I fear that it will be I that does so. If Illuvatar wills it and the Line of Durin once more King under the Mountain, will you stand with us?” Thorin was thoughtful, “If I am King under the Mountain and our axes are called for unlike Dain we will come with as great a force as we can spare.” “Then you Thorin, son of Thrain are well met. Gandalf mentioned another matter for which I might assist you.” Elrond said taking a seat and gesturing for them all to join him. Thorin scowled at the wizard, “There is the matter of the map which is my inheritance.” “What sort of assistance might I offer? Gandalf wasn’t specific, he claimed that must come from you.” “It’s the matter of some writing upon the map.” Thorin said reluctantly. “Neither Balin nor Gandalf seemed to be able to read it.” “Might I make an attempt?” Elrond asked dryly. The quiet request did more to gain Thorin’s assent then all of Gandalf’s vehement insistence had. He reached into his clock and withdrew the leaf-wrapped map. The key had been pulled above his clothes during the skirmish and Thorin had marked it not. “The Heir’s key…” Balin breathed, “I haven’t seen it since Thrain used it.” Thorin blinked, “What?” “I was with Thrain when Smaug attacked.” Balin admitted, “He led us out a passage. I would not be able to find it again for I marked it not as we fled. He ordered me to follow. I would have returned for you and Thror but he compelled me to obey.” “A passage?” Thorin frowned. “What passage?” He had bodily dragged his raving grandfather from the treasury out the main gates after chasing him into the treasury after Smaug had attacked. The Arkenstone was supposedly a symbol of their right to rule but Thorin wondered if it was in truth cursed. Yet he wanted to possess it as well… “Your ancestors built it into the mountain in case they needed to flee. The key was given to the heir to the kingship when he was named heir. I believe he had a map as well.” Balin admitted thoughtful. Thorin unwrapped the map and unrolled it. “Is this the map?” “Yes!” Balin exclaimed, “See?” he pointed. “There, that is the passage. I remember it now! That is the package that Gandalf gave you before we went to visit Dain.” Thorin nodded, “it is.” “Then we are quite fortunate.” “I see what it is you could not read. Those are moon runes. They were clearly written by Celebrimbor. He was a great friend of the Line of Durin.” Elrond announced. “He was close to a Khazad named Narvi, together they forged the Doors of Khazad-dûm.” Gandalf mused. “Is it possible that they were mates?” Elrond looked affronted, “A Khazad and a Eldar? Celebrimbor repudiated his own father Curufin and his uncle Celegorm thus was not expelled of Nargothrond. However he was in Eregion in the Second Age, if he were close in that fashion which I doubt, it would explain why he chose to gift rings to the Khazad-dim Lords.” “He did.” Thorin said sternly, “For he gave a ring to my ancestor Durin VI. He claimed to have granted a master ring to a Khazad yet he never told Durin who had that ring.” “What ring was that?” Elrond frowned. “The Ring of Earth.” Thorin glared, “Celebrimbor claimed to have forged four rings alone, the finest of his creations and he called them Narya, Nenya, Vilya and Ceminya. He counselled Durin the fourth of that name to guard his ring and to only pass it to his successor upon his death bed. Father told me the story of the grandfather’s ring and promised in time it would come to me. I believed it lost like this map and the key.” “The ring is lost, seized by the very being who likely cursed its bearer to suffer from an insatiable hunger for gold. Aüle made you too strong to be as malleable as the Edain though you lack the wisdom of the Eldar. A good thing for a Khazad lord to become like the ringwraiths who fell to the power of their rings would be unthinkable.” Gandalf frowned. “If the fourth could be found…” Elrond mused. “Think not on it, the three are well-guarded and the One is lost. If it is found it must be destroyed at once for it is far too dangerous and cunning. It dooms all its would-be-masters. You yourself counselled Isildur to cast it into the fires of Orodruin from whence it was forged.” Gandalf said sternly. “If a fourth were untainted,” Elrond continued, “It might prove useful.” “Then if Sauron recovers that which is lost do you think its bearer would be wise enough to do as you and the others did? Would they remove it or would they become as attached to it as their kin did and be driven mad?” Gandalf roared. The wizard had once more taken the glowing form that Thorin had glimpsed once, he swallowed, “The runes Elrond?” “Oh those, they say that the map was made by Celebrimbor, son of Curufin and grandson of Fëanor. That when the moon is full, then the words hidden will be revealed; moon runes were created by the sons of Finwë in Valinor during the Years of the Trees. Luckily for you tomorrow night is a full moon.” “It was, yet it was not Doomed Fëanor that created moon runes but rather Finarfin, the father of Galadriel who rules the Noldar of Aman. Yet they were originally called Telperion Runes for the silver light of that Tree would reveal all. Since the Moon was created from a single remaining flower of Telperion, it is likely that they would still be made visible by the light of the same.” “I suppose he taught it to Celebrimbor,” Elrond nodded. “I doubt the fashioning of the moon would have changed their purpose and he was just as creative as his grandfather.” “His grandmother Nerdanel and his great-grandfather Mahtan were quite skilled; Nerdanel the Wise was a sculptor while Mahtan Aulendur was one of Aüle’s finest students. He lamented having taught Fëanor metalwork because of the use of his teaching to forge armour and weapons. Despite being a descendant of Fëanor, perhaps because Celebrimdor took after Nerdanel and Mahtan, for his own works were for peaceful means rather then war. Nor was he involved in any of the deeds the Oath of Fëanor.” Gandalf said tiredly. “Did he not take it? It is not said that the grandson of Fëanor took it, merely that his sons did. Nor did his brothers or their children for the Lady Galadriel was never bound by it though she followed her kin to this lands.” Elrond said rising as his daughter approached there conference. “What sword is that?” Thorin glanced at his side, “I found it in a troll’s horde.” “You are quite the wonder Thorin son of Thrain. A map made by Celebrimbor and if you will let me see this sword of yours,” Elrond said as his eyes swept the sword. Thorin reluctantly unsheathed it and held it out, “I am a swordsmith by trade and I have not seen such a wonder.” Elrond accepted the sword and traced the runes with his finger. “Orcrist called The Tooth of Dragon, crafted by Maeglin for Ecthelion of the Fountains. It is said that it sliced a thousand orc necks in his hand. It had a sister sword called Glamdring forged too by Maeglin for his uncle Turgon, the King of Gondolin.” “What sword is this?” Gandalf asked unsheathing the sword Balin had taken from the Trolls horde and given him before the skirmish with the orcs. Elrond nearly dropped Thorin’s sword, “Glamdring, the Foe-Hammer as I live and breathe. I thought never to see it again. It was believed lost when Gondolin fell, perhaps one of the Dragons Scatha the Worm who was killed by King Fram of Rohan.” “Who seized treasure rightfully belonging to Khazad-dim and denied them their share or Khazad-made treasures.” Thorin spat. “For which he paid the ultimate price for his sending as legend says of Scatha’s teeth as their share of treasure resulted in his death at the hands of Durin’s folk for we Longbeards controlled the Ered Mithrin forever until the coming of the Orcs of Angmar.” Balin said speaking up. “Then perhaps, they fell into the hands of Khazad-dim at some point and have returned to the hand of their leader. Orcrist is a fine blade and would serve such a one as Thorin well. Perhaps, The Tooth of the Dragon might come in handy…” Elrond mused. “Fore-Hammer will suit you Gandalf, both are said to glow in the presence of orcs and other fell creatures.” “Father,” Arwen said with a bow, “our guests might like to wash before our supper.” Elrond nodded, “Yes daughter, it is well. Thank you for reminding me of propriety, Arwen Lady of Imladris will escort you to your rooms and fetch you for supper.” Thorin held up his fist in greeting, “Well met Elrond.” “You are likewise well met Thorin, son of Thrain. May you always enjoy the friendship of Elrond, son of Eärendil and his sons Elladan and Elrohir.” “May you always remain in friendship with the Line of Durin.” Thorin said, finding Lord Elrond to be a far more interesting and pleasant elf then his memories of Thranduil. Then they were led off by the Elf female who escorted them to their rooms and showed them the pitchers of hot water and soap that had been laid in the rooms for their use. Thorin thanked her as he would have Dis, for they were clearly holding the same authority despite being different races. “You are welcome in these halls Thorin, son of Thrain.” The Elven lady bowed with spread skirts. Then she was gone on silent feet leaving Thorin alone in a room. He hadn’t seen one so welcoming since his lost days as a Prince of Erebor... ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 12For all his stolen riches, Smaug’s heart was cold and empty.Decades he’d slept away, since claiming Erebor for himself.Melian’s daughter Lùthien, he knew that’s who the prophetess was.Knowing who spoke the words was quite different then interpreting them.His heart was still ‘missing’ since he had yet to find it.Every day that he woke, he sniffed searching for the smell of any other in his lair, but was greeted by no change.As he fell back into ‘sleep’, his heart called out, “Come home! Come home to Erebor!”XoooooooX“Come home! Come home to Erebor!”Thorin was walking in his dreams, dressed in travelling clothes. The voice caught his heart; the timber of it sent a wave of eagerness and lust through him.“Who are you?” Thorin called back.“Come, my One. Come, son of Mahal. Come, Heir of Durin. The Hand of Mahal is waiting.”Thorin knew the way he was going was right by the tug in his chest. It was as if a hook was in his heart and reeling him in towards Erebor.XoooooooXEvery day they stayed in Imladris was a day that they weren’t closer to Erebor.It made Thorin more brusque and snappish, but more so to his companions then his host and Elrond’s subjects, due to their tentative alliance.Finally, the night of the mid-spring full moon arrived and Elrond took him to the place he read moon runes.The map was reluctantly handed over Lord Elrond; only the greatest need would cause Thorin to part with it even for a short time.The map was placed on a moon dial; time crawled slowly until a beam of moonlight shone brightly on the map. Immediately, it began to glow with blue runes.“Hmmm…” Elrond said as he read the Map, “Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole.”“Durin’s day? That is when the last moon of Autumn and the sun are in the sky together, is it not?” Gandalf mused.“Durin’s Day, is the first day of the Khazad-dim New Year, which has always been the first day of the last moon of Autumn on the threshold of Winter.” Balin nodded.“Which means we can’t claim Erebor until after spring!” Thorin fumed, “None of the Khazad of Ered Luin would travel in winter.”“Patience my Lord,” Balin said delicately, “We will succeed, if we will follow the signs. We came here so that Elrond could read the moon runes for us; I hope he will consent to teach the most intelligent of my apprentices how to do so, so that such knowledge is not lost again.”Elrond nodded, “It would be wise to train your people to read your treasures properly.”“You will have to move on soon, the White Counsel is coming. The dire need of the success of your mission will necessitate that you leave on a moment's notice. I am only a lowly member and it would be unlucky if you were barred by the Council from continuing.” Gandalf advised.Thorin growled.“I will give you all the aid I can, Gandalf and I are of one mind in this subject; there must be a strong Erebor in the coming Dark Days.” Elrond promised.Reluctantly, Thorin and Balin returned to their beds, only to be woke before dawn by Nori. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 13Thorin was woken by a voice calling out, “Thorin?”Immediately, Thorin was up and reaching for his sword.“Stay, I have a message from Tharkun. We must be far by sunrise.” Nori whispered.Thorin scowled, “I see. Gandalf mentioned that might be the case some day soon yesterday. I’ll be out presently.”Nori bowed, “Understood, sir.”Their resident ‘thief’ had obviously picked his bedchamber’s lock, making Thorin at least partially aware of Nori’s talents.Thorin dressed in his travelling clothes and slung his bag over his shoulder, his blue cloak nearly black in the pre-dawn darkness.As he left his room, he heard Balin calling for Dwalin to wake, his old friend and shield brother would be a bigger headache then usual having been woken abruptly. Dori was also ordering Kili to get up.Trusting them to see to the younger members of the company, Thorin made his way outside to verify that Nori had done as he said by packing the ponies.The strange Khazad was true to his word, so Thorin sat back to wait on his company to slip out of the House of Elrond.XoooooXHis nephew Fili lifted Bilbo into the saddle and then climbed behind him; one hand holding the reins to his pony and the other arm was wrapped around Bilbo’s waist.They were mounted up, with supply ponies tied to their saddle horns and they road away from the place that had been their resting place for the last week.To their surprise, two horses appeared out of the darkness.“Who goes there?” Thorin hissed.“Elrohir and Elladan, sons of Elrond. We have been charged to escort you from Imladris to Mirkwood on Ranger paths.” Elrohir said softly.“Very well.” Thorin grumbled. “We’ll follow.”The Elven ranger twins leaned close to their horses’ necks and with gentle kicks spurred them forward.With Thorin’s Company following their lead out of the Valley.Thorin noticed that Bilbo fell asleep, but Fili stayed awake no doubt to make sure that Bilbo stayed safe.Kili, though immature, did the same, letting Ori ride with him, so his brother stayed safe despite how tired he was.Dori and Balin, ever vigilant rode together.His shield brother Dwalin glowered more darkly then usual, but thankfully rode on in silence.Absently, Thorin wondered just how long they had to ride before breakfast. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 14 They rode on, spurned to faster paces as the fingers of dawn spread across the sky. Elladan slowly rode back to through the company handing them leaf-wrapped packages. “Elven travel bread.” The Khazad looked at the packages warily but they were hungry and cooking was not an option. Thorin had of course heard of lembas but it was never taken or in truth sold, it must be granted. The later would spoil it for some reason… Thorin was only agreeable to eating more elf food because these two had been pleasant and proved trustworthy for elves. Besides they clearly didn’t have time to cook… The longer they rode the darker the sky became, there was a powerful storm brewing. Elladan strode through the company a second time and gave them more lembas, which they ate less warily. By noon, they reached the Misty Mountains. “Your ponies can’t carry you.” Elrohir yelled over the wind. “You’ll have to walk and guide them. The path is too steep. It’s meant to be walked not ridden. It will prevent us from being followed and the weather should cover us, hiding our scent.” Grumbling, the Khazad all dismounted. “Send Elrohir and Nori ahead uncle to lead us.” Fili advised. “Bofir and Elladan can bring up the rear.” Elrohir smirked. “Fair enough.” Thorin grumbled. Nori was like a mountain goat, but given his habit of jumping rooftop to rooftop it wasn’t a surprise. Having an Elven ranger at either end of their party made perfect sense to Nori. The icy growing in his heart hadn’t blinded him from seeing a connection growing between Elladan and Bofir, likely being Elladan’s twin it was logical that Elrohir had seen it too. The ponies were skittish and frightened, only Elven and Khazad strength kept them from falling off the narrow path or running off in terror. The deeper they went into the grey mountains the stronger the storm seemed to be, as if they were walking into it’s heart rather then away from it. Then a large lighting charged boulder crashed into the mountain above them, letting rocks rain down. Then Elladan shouted something Thorin didn’t quite understand. Ori and Balin blinked. Behind him Thorin heard Fili ask, “What’s wrong?” “Storm Giants.” Bilbo gasped. “The Storm Giants, they’re fighting.” “They’re a myth,” Fili stammered. Then something hit the mountain… Fili screamed, “Bilbo!” “FILI!” Bilbo cried out. Thorin’s company watched in horror as one third of them disappeared. Elladan yelled, “Cut the packs! Loosen the ponies! They’ll go mad if we keep them. The horses will look after them. They know the paths.” As terrible an idea as it was, the loss of a third of their company including Bilbo spurred them into action. Nori yelled, “Kili’s down! Dori! Ori’s gone!” he had watched in fascinated horror as rocks fell striking Kili and Ori as well as knocking Ori, Bombur, Bofur and Bilbo off the path. Dwalin had lept off the path lunging for Ori before disappearing into the dark. Thorin’s heart twisted, Mahal… Ori loss would be painful for Kili but not Dwalin too… The loss of his shield brother and an injury to his nephew made Thorin wonder if Dain had cursed them… Dori who had been at near the back of their party striped his pony and ran past a shell-shocked Nori, nimbly making his way over the steep but narrow path with his back against the mountain. His face was drenched covered in a mixture of rain and tears. “I’ll carry the prince. Mahal protect Ori!” His childhood companion had always been strong as a bear but to see Dori push his own sorrow at the loss of his baby brother to take care of Kili made Thorin feel a little guilt for not being as kind to Ori as a future consort deserved. The ponies and horses had to leap the missing portion of the path, but what little remained was wide enough for a two-legged being to shuffle across. A Khazad could do so tolerably well while an elf who possess long but narrow feet rather then short stubby ones crossed the span in three strides. When they counted their companions once all had crossed the narrowed place, they discovered, they had lost Bombur, Bofur, Kili, Bilbo and Dwalin. Nori was clearly distraught; as childish and cruel that Ori could be, his youngest brother was still important to him. As for Dwalin, not only was he Thorin’s shield brother, he was also Nori’s one. Balin grasped Dori’s hand, helping him across. Numb with cold and fear for his one, Fili joined Nori in carrying their fallen supplies and together the old friends struggled on into the storm. Elladan and Bifur helped one another as well. The decimated company trudged along, hoping for the best but fearing the worst. Ori gone… Bilbo… Bombur… Bofur… The most painful of all… Dwalin… Dwalin was gone… His shield brother had likely perished in their storm because he fell off the Misty Mountains. No one could survive falling from the high ranger paths of the Misty Mountains… Nori carried as much as he could, while he lacked the great strength that Dori and Ori had, he still had more then most. Dori had Kili while carrying many of their supplies, twice as much as most of them but he was supported by Bali, his One. Oin and Gloin had Oin and Bilbo’s healing supplies split between them. Crushed by the lost of their own Ones, Nori and Fili gravitated to one another. Nori may have begun at the front but with Ori, Dwalin and Bilbo gone, he had drifted closer to the middle. Or had Fili moved towards the front of what was left of their company…? The Ones to the princes of the House of Durin were lost… How could Fili recover from this? Not only had he grown into his role as Thorin’s heir in truth since Bilbo was found to be his One. There had been something so alive in his nephew compared to his memories of years previous since they had arrived at Bag End… Prior to that, Fili had believed that his One had died in the same battle as his sire. Fili who led with his heart as much as his intellect, who would have reign as a musician king, he was more of a natural diplomat then his predecessor to the position of heir but no general. Kili was young, but Thorin dare not guess what the loss of Ori would do to his heir. Spoilt though Ori was and young, Thorin would not have wished him gone even it would have saved himself from having to think about a yet another Generation born in poverty. Dwalin had leapt by choice not for Bilbo but for Ori, probably because he was closer to Ori when he fell. His shield brother had died trying to save the One of his youngest heir, yet Thorin believed that Dwalin would have done such a thing for him. Then Elrohir selected Nori to join him in searching out a cave or at least an overhang dry enough to allow Oin to examine Kili. The loss of their Ones would take the light out of his nephews… As foolish as it might be, Thorin silently prayed to Mahal to bring Fili and Kili’s Ones back to them. Ten minutes after Elrohir and Nori went scouting ahead, the younger elf twin appeared. “Ori found safe but injured. Dwalin, Bombur and Bofur captured by Orcs. Bilbo went to scout for a possible rescue.” Elrohir reported in a shout over the wind. Dori let out a sharp cry of gladness while Balin hugged him. “Led us.” Oin barked. Thorin felt no need to tell their healer to mind his place. The health of Bilbo and Ori were paramount in his thoughts for they would be the bearers of the Royal Durins that would inherit the Kingship. Ten minutes after being rejoined by Elrohir, Thorin’s company arrived at the cave where Dwalin and two others of their company were captured. Fili snatched up the note from Bilbo and held it to his heart. Oin gestured for Dori to lay Kili down beside Ori, after a quick exam Oin agreed that Bilbo had treated Kili’s unofficially betrothed consort-to-be appropriately and gave a similar treatment for Kili for they shared the same injuries. Meanwhile, the Elven twins used Elrohir’s rope and Elladan’s bedroll to create a sort of contraption to carry both Kili and Ori from this place safely. Their healer and his brother Gloin were all that they could spare if they hoped to effect a rescue even with diminished numbers… Thankfully, Ori and Kili were slight enough that together they equalled the weight of someone like Dwalin so they were relatively easy to remove from this place. Elrohir told Gloin the safest, easiest place to set up a camp and when it might be safe enough to light a fire. Then Ori and Kili were as safe as possible despite their injuries… The rest of the company waited… XooooooX Most nervously staying as close to the path and as far from the interior of the cave so not to join Dwalin, Bombur and Bofur in captivity. Without Bilbo’s return with news, they could not hope to plan a rescue. They were not even sure which crack was the door that Bilbo had referred to in his note. They dare not explore too much for fear of setting off any alarm that would alert the Orcs to their presents so they congregated where Ori had been found. The longer they waited, they the more impatient Thorin became… Bofir who was Bofur’s elder brother and Bombur’s cousin was usually silent since he had lost the power of speech thanks to the Orc axe stuck in his forehead. Yet, his hands were even remarkably silent, well still. Elladan’s quiet nature seemed perfect and he stayed close to Bofir… Balin had been silent since Dwalin had leapt after Ori, but the two of them spent much of their time watching Nori and whispering. Finally, Fili snapped… “We should have gone already! It’s been too long!” Fili said sharply. “Bilbo must have gotten captured!” Nori was silent and pensive the same as Dori, his old childhood friend. Given that both Kili and Ori were injured it was understandable that they would be worried. Especially with his and Dori’s old friend Dwalin captured. “The foolish halfling should have waited for us!” Thorin growled, “No doubt, it was his fault they were captured!” “Oh?” Nori’s voice was soft and hard all at once, his voice cut not unlike his knives “Just who was it who saved the ponies your majesty? An accused thief and your hired burglar! I think if Bilbo went to look around he learned something. I bet the lad’s come back to tell us something. I think I can hear his breathing.” Thorin’s ears were sharp but not as sharp as Nori’s, it took some time to hear. heard Bilbo choke. “Bilbo? Bilbo are you there?” Fili whispered. “Yes?” Bilbo sheathed his knife and scurried over to them out of the shadows, throwing his arms around Fili. “You’re safe! I was worried you’d be captured too! I tried to find them but I got lost and just made my way back. I encountered the strangest creature and only just escaped. I know how the goblins surprised us though. I think the mud I’m covered in and the fact that I’m not a known creature will help me here. I tried to get in by another way, I can’t open their backdoor by myself.” No one else had seen Bilbo appear out of thin air… Something about that made Nori uneasy… “Thank Mahal you’re safe. We’re all filthy so it matters not. Maybe Dori can help? He can wrestle a bear and win, perhaps he can open this backdoor of theirs?” Fili said into his hair as he held him tightly. “We need all of us and Dwalin is a friend of old as well as Thorin’s shield brother, otherwise I’d leave him to rot.” Dori scowled, “It wouldn’t be fair to leave Bombur or Bofur because of him. I’ll do my best.” Nori flinched, he felt guilty about the loss of Dori’s friendship with Dwalin who was Balin’s younger brother. “We can hid our scents and we’re very good at tracking Orcs. We’ll go with Bilbo if Master Dori can open the door. Though Nori might be of some assistance. The rest should stay and be ready to help us when we come back. Setting up traps and planning an ambush.” Elrohir said sternly. “Why should we listen to you elf?” Thorin grumbled. “We’re older then you and we’ve been hunting orcs since they murdered our mother.” Elladan said sharply. “We’re lighter of foot and silent, you have master Balin and yourself to plan traps and make battle plans. Four is faster then all.” Fili swallowed, “They’re right uncle. We’re wasting time arguing. The sooner they go, the sooner we can run.” Before he let go of Bilbo he reached behind him for Kili’s arrows and then he dropped them in Bilbo’s empty quiver, they would do his One more good then Kili right now… “Fine!” Thorin snapped. “Dori open the door that the halfling speaks of!” But Dori had already gone following the drag marks heading for back of the cave, feeling around for the crack of said door. Upon finding it, he used his great strength and shoved hard. ‘It moved, thank Mahal,’ Thorin thought, ‘it moved.’ Then again, he had little doubt that there was anything Dori couldn’t do when it came to a test of strength… After all, he had grown up with both Dwalin and Dori’s physical strength, Dori’s was primarily used for acts of physical prowess while Dwalin’s were primarily used with in regards to weapons. Together with Elrohir, Elladan and Bilbo, Nori headed to the back of the cave. It had opened just enough for slim persons to slip through… Nori being far skinnier then a Khazad ought to be got in easily, and the Elven twins too. Bilbo having being on a sort of diet due to adventuring got in by sucking in his formerly slight paunch of a belly. Dori went to tug the door closed and hissed, “How shall I know to open it again?” “An owl!” Elrohir whispered, “Listen for an owl!” Thorin cleared his throat, “Oin and Gloin left with both of our injured. So we number only five with the elves off with Nori and the halfling to find and hopefully rescue Dwalin, Bombur and Bofur…” Fili’s momentary lapse into silence was disrupted. Using only rope and blankets, their Elven companions had made a hammock-like stretcher that could bear both Kili and Ori. Terrible the weather might be but keeping their injured companions on the doorstep to Orc territory was too dangerous so following Elrohir’s directions Oin and Gloin had left bearing their youngest Khazad. Thus leaving the rest of their company to wait for Bilbo’s return with news. “His name is Bilbo uncle.” Fili scowled. “That has little bearing on our situation. We’re cold, wet and we’re carrying more then we had to before we had to let the ponies and horses go.” Balin chided. “Any ideas for traps?” Dori asked. “A battle plan?” “Most traps our companions might also trip.” Balin scowled. Fili inwardly groaned, for all Balin’s wisdom and Thorin’s leadership, they were not much better off then hey had been when Bilbo, Nori and the elves left. He wondered how they were coming along… Had they found Dwalin and the others yet? And they sat down to wait yet again… XooooooX It seemed like ages before they heard the hooting of an owl and Dori began to reopen the door. To their surprise, Bilbo flew threw the opening portal of stone. Then it opened surprisingly faster this time the first time Dori opened the crack, the bear-strong Khazad nearly stumbled from the force of his pulling and it seemed that considerable force had been used from the opposite. The second to emerge was Elrohir with Bombur who didn’t stop as he continued running out of the cave. Smugly, the middle Ri brother darted through and kept running, so to their awe he ran right out of the cave, he ran not only from the Orcs but from Dwalin as well. Had Nori helped open the crack? That was surprising, wasn’t Nori the weak brother? Nori didn’t wait for the others; rather then the appearance of a coward, Nori looked more like a determined messenger. Since Thorin also wanted to let Oin know the extent of the injuries of their rescued party members and he was the fastest now that he was unburdened… Nori also seemed to have good aim with Khazad as he did with his knives, since Fili snatched the halfling out the air just inches off the ground with the sort of precision that he likely learned from catching various weapons from Dwalin. Only Dwalin was a devious enough weapons master to teach his students to snatch weapons safely out of air. Of course catching a flying person was far more difficult then a slim weapon. Thorin was momentarily impressed by his elder heir’s prowess. Bilbo crawled up on Fili’s back gasping, “Run! For the love of Illuvatar run! Thorin, Gandalf said as soon as they’re through come behind and watch our flank.” Gasping, Bilbo clung to Fili but not too tight that his mate couldn’t breathe… “Go Fili!” Thorin barked. Fili ran like a hare from a fox, tearing out of the cave and sprinting down the path in the direction that Oin and Gloin had take Ori and Kili. Balin frowned, “Why didn’t Nori go back for Dwalin?” Dori chuckled, “He’s run ahead to tell Oin how injured they are. I’ll wager my silver coming-of-age beads on it.” Then Dwalin stumbled through the crack collapsing at Dori’s feet… Dori and Balin exchanged a look with similar silent communication to Dís and her fallen One Jili; Balin gave Dori a sharp nod. They each took an arm and Dori hissed, “Keep your feet off the ground and hold onto us.” Thorin waved them on, “Go. Get Dwalin to Oin!” “Can’t leave Thorin.” Dwalin said just before passing out on them. Behind them were Bofir and Elladan, with the later carrying Bofur who likewise seemed to have fainted. Elrohir still carrying Bombur had been the second to exit the crack but likely both Nori and Fili were ahead of them so Dori merely had to keep at least one of him in his sights. Between two Elven Rangers, Dori felt that they would reach wherever it was that Elrohir sent Oin with Ori. They heard Orc shouts and screams as well as Dori’s grunting as he tried to pull the door shut but it was slower then when he’d opened it. Before it was shut, Gandalf ran out of the crack momentarily seeming as thin as parchment and momentarily faint like moonlight touching the shadows. “Fly you fool!” Gandalf said before running. Rather then verbally taking offence at the wizard’s choice of words, Thorin ran his weapon still clutched in his iron grip. Gandalf’s sword Glamdring was also out while his staff was clutched in his opposite hand. Having gone through military training as well as a king’s education when he was a young one in Erebor, Thorin had no trouble running with his sword. Thorin ran following Gandalf’s clattering footsteps. The storm giants were still fighting but it was his training from his youth that spurred Thorin on and the pull to Erebor as well as his desire not to be shown up by a wizard. They ran, tearing down the mountain path finally they found themselves running through the softer ground of a mountain forest. The shouts of Orcs and the rattle of their dread weapons mingled with the sound of their iron-shod feet hitting stone was brought to them on the wind Gloin waved at them when they emerged from the dense trees and joined them as they ran past his post as lookout and guide. “All party members accounted for?” Gandalf barked at Gloin. His youngest cousin nodded, “All followed my directions to Oin with the exception of Nori.” It didn’t take long to reach the fire where Thorin was pleased to find that his company were packed and ready to run. “Enjoyed your rest?” Gandalf snorted and without waiting for a reply barked, “Good! Now run! The sun is coming but they are still behind us and angry!” They ran on and on, farther then any sane person could run… It wasn’t until the sun was blazing and it was light all around that Gandalf called a halt. “Lembas Elladan if you and Elrohir haven’t lost your supply.” They had thankfully stopped beside a stream… The Elven twins handed them the same Elven food they had yesterday as they crossed the mountains. Had it really been yesterday that they left Imladris? Thorin wondered. They were all sore and half dead with hunger and exhaustion. They drank from the stream after eating and everyone refilled their flasks with fresh water. “Sleep, the Orcs can’t stand the sun. I’ll wake you at dusk.” Gandalf said kindly after his brisk almost rude speech after emerging from the crack. “They’ll come after us all the angrier…it is terrible luck that we stumbled across the Orcs of Moria and angered their chieftain…” “Mahal help us all, our quest must be doomed.” Dwalin grumbled, “For Azog the Defiler still lives.” Thorin growled, grabbing Dwalin by his shredded shirt’s laces, “Tell me you’re lying Dwalin! Azog must be dead!” “I saw him myself Thorin. Azog will chase us; he hates your kind as much as you hate his. He hates your and your line the most and were he to know that he was chasing you he would follow you to the ends of the earth I’m afraid. Rest now while you can.” Gandalf advised. Nori was clearly tired from running, wearing Dwalin’s pack, that he’d left in the cave when they’d gone to rescue the Captives and Dori had thought best to save. How the so-called thief had managed to flitch it Thorin had no idea. Thorin watched as Nori limped up to Oin and spoke. “He’ll need to change and you’ll need a second pair of hands to clean his wounds.” “The elves have the others to treat.” Oin grumbled. “I’ll look after my cousin. Where is Bilbo?” Nori gestured tiredly, “Fell asleep eating. I know not what adventure he had but he’s exhausted.” “You can help. You good with a knife for more then killing boy?” Oin asked. Nori nodded. “Good.” Oin said gruffly. Thorin was surprised that Dwalin didn’t argue against Nori’s help. Usually his shield brother had little to say that was pleasant about Dori’s middle younger brother… Now he was likely too tired and in pain to argue foolishly about help, Dwalin’s back was a mess. The orcs had flogged his skin raw and nearly to the bone. “Take his clothes off, I’ll return with soaproot.” Oin said sharply. “After he’s clean, we’ll bandage his wounds and you can help dress him.” Thorin watched as Nori flushed, “Yes Healer.” Nori then pulled a knife from his hip, and Dwalin looked as if he felt no fear even when the flat of blade touched his skin. Dwalin seemed as if he was surprisingly aroused but that was short-lived because of the pain of his wounds. Nori was sacrificing his sleep to help Dwalin and Thorin wasn’t sure quite why… Even if he was suspicious that Gandalf had implied that they were important to one another, possibly Ones. Which wouldn’t end well, Dwalin hated Nori… Soon Dwalin was as naked as the day he was birthed… Nori crouched and slipped under Dwalin’s arm and slowly stood supporting the elder Khazad, “Come on, let’s get you in the water.” Dwalin was helped to a small pool, downstream from where the Company had drunk. Where his shield brother was lowered into the water with surprising strength, yet Nori seemed not to get wet… Trusting Nori to look after his friend and sometime lover was difficult but Dwalin was never his and if Nori was his One, there really wasn’t much point in jealousy even if it seemed that everyone was pairing up. Thorin didn’t bother really putting out his bedroll, he lay down and rest his head on a log. Sleep wouldn’t come easy not with the reality of Azog being alive. “Sleep!” Gandalf barked at them. Thorin glared at the wizard. “You’ve been up more then a day and spent much of that running or riding. Your body needs rest. You can’t protect them if you don’t sleep.” Gandalf chided. Thorin reluctantly closed his eyes. Sleep would be resistant. A hand covered his forehead. “Sleep king. Every night is one night closer to Erebor…” Sleep was like a warm blanket pulling him in and under… ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 15 Haunting dreams that wrenched Thorin’s heart as well as pulling him tighter towards Erebor made him both grateful to be awake and sorrow-filled at the same time. Balin snickering with Dori of all things waked Thorin… Balin having a living One was a surprise, having it be his old childhood friend was a shock. Their relationship made them seem decades younger oddly enough… Thorin silently observed as Nori spun to find Balin and Dori giggling, the wanderer scowled at them, “Be quiet both of you.” Balin snorted, “Dwalin’s all but throwing himself at you and you’re going to pretend you don’t want that? You two are the worst example of stubborn Khazad I’ve ever seen.” “Nori helped save you from Goblins Dwalin and he helped treat your wounds. Even after how you’ve treated him since he came of age, he still was willing to be kind and gentle with you. As for you Nori, Dwalin falls off a cliff and you reveal to the entire Company just what he is to you. If Dwalin figured it out, I wish you every happiness. So are you going to remove your objections to Kili tying himself to Ori Dwalin?” Dori smirked. “Of course I do not have the same objections as before.” Dwalin scowled. “He came to save me and made sure that Fili’s One wasn’t left behind. What do you mean that he exposed who I am to him after I jumped after Ori?” Dwalin blanched, “Do you mean we’re Ones?” Nori stormed to his feet, “Dori word in ear I want!” he spoke in Erebor Iglishmêk. Dori sighed, “I have no secrets from my One, you have secrets from him.” Balin frowned, “I see no reason why you should be wary of me. To me our family comes before Thorin, Erebor or the law.” Thorin knew that Balin meant that not that he would betray either of those for his family but he would put his duty to his family first. “Times are not so good,” Nori snapped, “I have no reason to believe that someone like me deserves any rights. I have no desire to amend my previous plan. I will see you all to Erebor, where Ori is to be officially betrothed to Kili. Once they are so, then I shall leave you all for good.” “So you would abandon your One after you have begun to bond? Fool!” Óin sneered making Nori jump. “I have done nothing of the sort.” Nori said sharply. “What with washing him and tending his wounds? I’m surprised Balin hasn’t guessed your secret. I did, yesterday clarified it for me. You’re just like Salun.” Óin said with a sad, but fond look in his eye. Salun? Wasn’t that Óin’s female-bodied male lover? Balin stared at Nori and then started to chuckle, “I suppose that does make sense then, especially as to why Dori was so uneasy about revealing a secret about someone he was close to. I don’t see any trouble as the Head of Dwalin’s family that would prevent me from giving consent. Besides as large as he is and his build, Dwalin defies norms and is a bearer.” Nori openly gaped, “Dwalin? A bearer? You must be joking…” Óin sighed, “Have you not wondered, why for all my healing skills, neither Salun or I conceived? Or why we were so quick to take Arisa to our hearts?” Nori gasped, “Salun was like me?” “In both body and tastes, I suspect, yet he was allowed to bond to me legally. Why should you be refused the same?” Óin shrugged. “But the loss of Erebor changed this…” Nori muttered. “To change that law would violate the very heart of Erebor by grieving Mahal and shaming Durin. It would be as cruel and as foolish as forbidding the bonding of all male couples. Thorin could not violate that law without insulting Salun’s memory as well as offending myself, Arisa, Gloin, Balin and the House of Ri. You are no scandal Nori, son of Ari and Stor. Thorin knew as short as they were on bearers, Thorin was suspicious that more sires had perished at the Battle that took his grandfather and slowly drove his father mad. Few Ones had be claimed since the loss of Erebor and only five dwarflings had been born to his knowledge; Nori, Fili, Kili, Ori and Gimli. It was possible that some escaped his ears though… Dwalin scowled, “Would someone please explain this? I hate being the only one with no clue to what you are referring to.” Dwalin had always been slow to realise things if they weren’t related to war or fighting unless they were explicitly stated… Óin smirked, “Do you believe Nori to be male?” Dwalin glared, “What sort of a question is that? Of course he is!” “Finally sunk your claws into them Nori?” Ori snapped. Ori’s vehemence surprised Thorin, he wasn’t pleased at how Kili’s tentatively betrothed One was handling this situation… Nori flinched, “I have done no such thing. If these respected Elders will not condemn me, why should you?” Ori glared, “If isn’t your thievery that dishonours us but your dress.” Nori snapped, “I began dressing this way to feed you!” “I never asked you to!” “I couldn’t have bought you all of those gifts, nor could Dori have afforded your apprenticeship.” “I liked you so much more before I knew what you were!” “Ori, stop.” Kili begged. “Dori had a One all the time and Nori is a female, they are nothing but liars. You forgave them, how could you do that?” Ori hissed. Dwalin blinked, “Nori’s a what?” “He’s a female pretended to be a male.” Ori grumbled. Nori sagged, “I hope you’re happy now Ori, because I think you have exposed your current state of being too immature to be consort.” Kili flinched, “Will you be retracting your consent Dori?” Balin scowled, “Your ages and maturity were considered when this was discussed. It was hoped that Ori’s maturity would temper your excesses. However, it seems that you need to be the dominant half and you must learn when Erebor comes before your own heart. Your One cannot be allowed to act in such a manner publicly, when we reclaim our mountain our people will look to your family to give us a glimpse of what stability is. Ori cannot be allowed to voice such opinions publicly, no matter if he does not agree with the law. You can’t pressure Kili to want such a law retracted or broken.” Dori looked away, “My own previous dislike of this was more of my embarrassment and worry about what would happen if it became known. I was wrong; persons older and wiser then me have assured me that Nori is acceptable; something as his guardian I should have believed. I should have been willing to fight for him, instead of teaching you to be ashamed of him.”“We should be!” Ori stomped. “No, we shouldn’t,” Dori shook his head; “Nori is Nori and that is all that matters. My fears were unfounded and I hoped that you wouldn’t be hurt by my choices. I see that I have hurt you and I’m sorry that I have, I was far too young when I took you in. I don’t regret it but I would have preferred to be older and to have a partner to share the struggles of parenting but I didn’t.” “You’ll never had to struggle with that alone again,” Balin said pulling him closer. “How can you forgive him for lying?” Ori glared. “He did it to protect me, I may not have risen as far Thorin’s esteem as I have but I understand why. We’ve talked it out and we’ve put it behind us. I really do not appreciate your insistence on throwing that choice up in Dori’s face, he already has suffered for it and he shouldn’t have to anymore. I forgave him, and I’m the only person who has the right to be angry with him for it.” Balin snapped. “Ori stop, Ori that’s enough.” Kili said tugging on his hand. Thorin’s scowl had grown sharper and colder the longer that Ori continued to berate Nori and Dori. The only ones who had the right to be displeased with them were Balin and Dwalin… Dwalin noticed that Thorin was scowling at them and drawled, “I would obey Kili, for you’ve earned Thorin’s displeasure.” “Are you sure it isn’t your Nori who has?” Ori sneered as Kili drew him away. Not long after Kili took Ori away, Thorin noticed that Fili roused and seemed to have slept through the conversation. Leaving Dwalin still confused much to everyone other then Nori’s amusement. They ate the offered Elven way bread and drank from the river to replenish their energy from yesterday’s exhausting ‘adventures’. They were about to start off again when they heard a neigh… Elrohir let out a strange sort of whistle… To their collective surprise they saw the Elven rangers’ horses herd their ponies out of the trees. A subdued cheer went up from the company. “Alright since we had the horrendous news that Azog the Defiler lives and is chasing us because Dwalin escaped I suggest we pack the returned ponies as best we can and get ready to run.” Thorin scowled. Immediately the Company and their Ranger guides reloaded their steeds and the pack ponies. Then they, with the exception of Bilbo and Bombur who had to be lifted onto a pony, mounted and broke their makeshift camp. Their Elven rangers did their best to erase any sign they had been there. Thorin had no doubt that Nori’s resignation, Kili’s pained expression, Ori’s fury, Dori’s sorrow, Óin’s amusement, Balin’s irritation and Dwalin’s confusion were apparent to the rest of the Company even if the reasons weren’t. Bilbo stayed snuggled into Fili’s arms as they rode following the river they had camped beside. “What are we looking for?” his heir Fili asked curiously. “Likely the Ford of Carrock,” Balin replied stiffly. “Is it the only crossing?” Bilbo asked as he looked at the river with a shiver. “The safest for miles. The river can be treacherous what with whirlpools and cataracts.” Balin shrugged. Bilbo flinched, “No decent hobbit can swim.” “You’re not a usual hobbit,” Gandalf said drawing near, “for you’re far more Took than Baggins when it comes to the point. Come now Bilbo you’ve faced Trolls, Storm giants and Orcs bravely; why should a river unsettle you more then those dangers?” “I am small and silent all the better to sneak around them or attack. A river is more unpredictable.” Bilbo muttered lamely. “I promise to teach you if you wish.” Fili said with a smile in his voice. “You’re letting me ride with you until I get comfortable with a pony and you’ve taught me how to use a sword…” Bilbo mumbled. “I just want you to be confident in your skin Bilbo. I want you to see how very worthy you are, Mahal made you for me and we fit.” Fili said in Bilbo’s ear. Out of the corner of his eye, Thorin saw Bilbo shiver. Why of all things had Mahal forged Fili’s One as a hobbit? As the sun fell lower on the horizon, a sense of uneasy fell over the company. An hour after sunset there came a great thundering from direction the Misty Mountains and soon after the howl of wolves. “Orcs!” Elrohir snarled in Sindarian. “Wargs!” his twin mumbled. Gandalf pointed with his staff, "There is the Ford!" They raced ahead with Gandalf shouting, “BEORN! ORCS!” A loud earthshaking roar that resembled that of a bear answered them; storming out of the Carrock was a huge angry black bear. Given the difference in their size, Thorin preferred to avoid someone who could flatten him with a single blow or eat him for a snack. The bear stormed past the party who rode along the ford following Gandalf through the lowest part of the river. To the horses, the water was up to their knees but the shorter ponies had it to their backs really. Bilbo and Ori were exceedingly nervous… It wasn’t until they reached the other side of ford, landing on a large island in the middle of the Anduin River that Gandalf and their ranger companions slowed. Behind them they could hear the howls of the wargs, the shouts of the Orcs and the roar of ‘Beorn’. They didn’t cross the island to the other side of the Great River; rather they stopped just inside the trees in a clearing. The ponies were restless but the horses belonging to Gandalf and the Rangers were calm. “Shouldn’t we be helping?” Dwalin grumbled. “You’re no more in shape to fight then Ori and Kili are.” Nori retorted. This time it was Dwalin who flinched at the coldness of the other’s tone. “When Beorn is a bear it’s wise to keep out of his way especially if you’re a stranger. His companions are less likely to in possible danger because he knows them by name and by scent.” Gandalf said sternly. “I would prefer to arrive at the Lonely Mountain with all of you more or less in one piece.” The company stayed put until a very large man appeared, if it weren’t for the full black beard and the silver streaked black hair, this Beorn looked liked a giant Dwalin. “Gandalf,” Beorn growled, “why have you brought strangers into my home and Orcs to my door?” “I’m striking against the Shadow in my own way. You can appreciate that I know.” Gandalf said smoothly. “The Ford is also the best way to cross the Anduin. When one travels with a Durin or two, the Orcs of Moria will give chase.”Beorn snorted, “Very well, since you’re here the least I can do is offer you some hospitality. My home is large yet it is more like an Edain’s barn and I have many friends but I will not countenance their being treated as animals that you are used to. They are friends of mine and they also are different from others like them. I eat no meat and I will allow none in my house. I can however offer you all plenty of fresh cream and honey but that is all I can offer.” Thorin shrugged, “If we can eat nothing but vegetables and fish with the elves it would be rude to refuse a meal or insult a host.” Bilbo beamed at Beorn, “Honey and cream would be an interesting meal…” “What are you little one?” the bear-man frowned. “Elves, dwarves and wizards I know but I don’t know you.” Bilbo flushed, leaning more against Fili but looking at their host curiously. “I’m a hobbit but Gandalf and my Khazad friends call me a halfling.” “Nori son of Stor.” Beorn smirked, “odd to see you with company.” Nori coughed, “I wasn’t sure you’d recognise me.” The giant snickered, “Different hair but you still smell the same as that time I had to patch you up after a run in with Moria Orcs.” Nori rolled his eyes, “I managed to not have to pick a fight with them this time. Dwalin on the other hand got himself captured and they tore the shit out of his back. Óin over there conned me into fixing him up.” “Now he won’t talk to me.” Dwalin grumbled. “Nothing to talk about.” Nori retorted coldly. “Well come on then Nori son of Stor. You can lead the rest if they trail behind.” Beorn said with a deep rumbling chuckle. Thorin found himself noticing that familiar great patches of flowers had begun to spring up, all the same kinds growing together as if they had been planted. Especially there was clover, waving patches of cockscomb clover, and purple clover, and wide stretches of short white sweet honey-smelling clover. There was a buzzing and a whirring and a droning in the air. Bees were busy everywhere. They were bigger than hornets. The drones were bigger than your thumb, a good deal, and the bands of yellow on their deep black bodies shone like fiery gold. “We are getting near,” Nori observed dryly. “We are on the edge of his bee-pastures.” After a while they came to a belt of tall and very ancient oaks, and beyond these to a high thorn-hedge through which you could neither see nor scramble over. They soon came to a wooden gate, high and broad, beyond which they could see gardens and a cluster of low wooden buildings, some thatched and made of unshaped logs: barns, stables, sheds, and a long low wooden house. Inside on the southward side of the great hedge were rows and rows of hives with bell-shaped tops made of straw. The noise of the giant bees flying to and fro and crawling in and out filled all the air. Beorn flung open the gates, “Well come in if you wish. Orcs know not to linger too near. I thrash them soundly when they do…” The company followed their host down a wide track towards the house. Some horses, very sleek and well groomed, trotted up across the grass and looked at them intently with very intelligent faces; then off they galloped to the buildings. The company’s ponies and horses were impatient. “Why don’t you unpack and let them roam a bit. My horses will look after them, they will not stray.” Beorn said gruffly. Gandalf and their Elven companions were the first to alit. Thorin followed Beorn and members of his own company through a dark door that opened out of the courtyard into the house. Following him they found themselves in a wide hall with a fireplace in the middle. Though it was summer there was a wood-fire burning and the smoke was rising to the blackened rafters in search of the way out through an opening in the roof. They passed through this dim hall, lit only by the fire and the hole above it, and came through another smaller door into a sort of veranda propped on wooden posts made of single tree-trunks. It faced south and was still warm and filled with the light of the westering sun which slanted into it, and fell golden on the garden full of flowers that came right up to the steps. Inside the hall it was now quite dark. Beorn clapped his hands, and in trotted four beautiful white ponies and several large long-bodied grey dogs. Beorn said something to them in a queer language like animal noises turned into talk. They went out again and soon came back carrying torches in their mouths, which they lit at the fire and stuck in low brackets on the pillars of the hall about the central hearth. The dogs could stand on their hind-legs when they wished, and carry things with their forefeet. Quickly they got out boards and trestles from the sidewalls and set them up near the fire. Then baa, baa, baa was heard, and in came some snow-white sheep led by a large coal-black ram. One bore a white cloth embroidered at the edges with figures of animals; others bore on their broad backs trays with bowls and platters and knives and wooden spoons, which the dogs took and quickly laid on the trestle-tables. These were very low, low enough even for Bilbo to sit at comfortably. Beside them a pony pushed two low-seated benches with wide rush-bottoms and little short thick legs for Gandalf and Thorin, while at the far end he put Beorn’s big black chair of the same sort (in which he sat with his great legs stuck far out under the table). These were all the chairs he had in his hall, and he probably had them low like the tables for the convenience of the wonderful animals that waited on him. What did the rest sit on? They were not forgotten. The other ponies came in rolling round drum-shaped sections of logs, smoothed and polished, and low enough even for Bilbo; so soon they were all seated at Beorn’s table, and the hall had not seen such a gathering for many a year. There they had a supper, or a dinner, such as they had not had since they left the Last Homely House in the West and said good-bye to Elrond. The light of the torches and the fire flickered about them, and on the table were two tall red beeswax candles. Here they sat on wooden benches while Tharkun began a tale, telling a very undetailed description of their travels. Soon dishes of honey and mugs of cream were served. Beorn had very large bowls that he drank out of; slightly smaller versions of his dishes were served to their two Elven companions and Tharkun. It was nice to eat something that wasn’t that Elven travel bread that Tharkun called Lembas There they had a supper, or a dinner, such as they had not had since they left the Last Homely House in the West and said good-bye to Elrond. The light of the torches and the fire flickered about them, and on the table were two tall red beeswax candles. After Tharkun told their tale, Beorn in his deep rolling voice told tales of the wild lands on this side of the mountains, and especially of the dark and dangerous wood, that lay outstretched far to North and South a day’s ride before them, barring their way to the East, the terrible forest of Mirkwood. Mirkwood formerly known as Greenwood the Great Forest, Dwalin knew lay between them and Erebor. Passing through alliance betrayer Thranduil’s territory was unwelcome but it was the shortest way to Erebor… XooooooX After the tales ended, they were dismissed from the dining hall and shown accommodations where they could wash their clothes they’d had dirtied because of the storm a few nights and have those damaged by the goblins repaired if possible. Their shirts were lost causes but the trousers were possible… As a weaver and a trade tinker, Dori had the things needed to fix the clothing and so Dwalin, Bofur and Bomfur had asked Dori to fix what he could. Thorin decided that they were travelling at a fast enough pace that they could rest for a day to recover. That would give Dori time to fix some clothing for Dwalin, Bofur and Bombur. It might also allow Dori to negotiate for stored hair from either Beorn’s dogs or ponies so that he could turn it into thread and build clothes to replace the damaged one or even patch if possible. Besides Dwalin who was the worst beaten needed time to recover and perhaps, Nori would see fit to assist him which would possible prevent Nori from continuing to seek death… Azog would not give up his hunt for them… Between their escape and leading Azog’s Orcs into an ambush by Beorn, it would only infuriate the Great White Orc all the more… They needed as much time to recover as they could spare if only to be all the stronger for when they came upon the filth that had taken Moria from them… He would make those filthy brutes pay for flogging his shield brother Dwalin as well as their non-related company members Bofur and Bombur… XooooooX Smaug was haunted by half-remembered dreams that shifted from what felt like the past to what might be the future. Smaug just wanted to find his heart… It felt closer though he never moved… He slept fitfully since coming to Erebor… Searching always searching… Surely Lùthien hadn’t lied so where was his heart? Was he destined to be alone searching in vain for his salvation? ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 16 Thorin felt the warm embrace of heat… He was a swordsmith but this felt like home… His earliest memory was his grandfather showing him the great forges of Erebor and promising that they would be his one day. It was the Forge that he loved best, better then the treasury or the Arkenstone… “Thorin…” His name was whispered and it smelt of the forge… Thorin felt his body begin to melt in anticipation, his One… “That’s it Thorin, melt for me…” Thorin called for his One in his native tongue… “Aüle knew what he was doing when he forged you for me. So gorgeous…so desirable…so mine…” “I need you…” “Patience my Heart…patience…” “Only you would dare tease a Durin like this…” Thorin fumed. “It would be so boring if I came when I was called. You know that’s not my nature Thorin…” Then he was pounced on… Thorin woke up and punched his pillow. The fire long dead… So close… He could hear his One’s voice, his body and heart ached together. He felt more tugged home, he’d promised Dwalin a day of rest to heal…then they would begin their journey through Mirkwood. Thorin needed to go home… It started for Fili and Kili’s sake but now it was for his own… XooooooX He remembered this place… It was a natural cavern that he discovered with his One, it lay deep in the mountain. Untouched except for their hands alone… Lying on a natural ledge like table lay his One… “Thorin…” he called out in a teasing voice. Thorin’s name was whispered and his mate said that it smelt of the forge… He could see that Thorin’s body begin to melt in anticipation, his One… “That’s it Thorin, melt for me…” He drawled. Thorin called for him in his native tongue… “Aüle knew what he was doing when he forged you for me. So gorgeous…so desirable…so mine…” “I need you…” Thorin begged gruffly. “Patience my Heart…patience…” he snickered. “Only you would dare tease a Durin like this…” Thorin fumed. “It would be so boring if I came when I was called. You know that’s not my nature Thorin…” he called out teasingly. Then he pounced on Thorin… Smaug woke up… His bed in the treasury was cold and hard… Nothing like the one in his dreams… In his dreams he’d been a laughing streak of fire, not this scale-covered fire-breathing dragon… Thorin… Was Thorin his heart? Smaug felt empty and hollow… Lonely… His heart wept, come home, come home to Erebor…I’m waiting… ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 17 Thorin rose early the morning they were to depart Beorn’s Carrack… They dined on fresh cream and honey before packing… Much of their company seemed sleepy given their early start… Thorin was impatient to leave… He was conscious enough to thank their host politely but he was anxious to be going… In fact, they all thanked Beorn before mounting and riding away with the skinshifter following them out of his fenced property and through the small stand of trees upon the carrack. They splashed through the ford and then followed the sons of Elrond. They rode for hours… Elladan rode back through the company offering them lembas so they could continue without stopping for a meal. It was late afternoon when they entered Mirkwood… Elrohir scowled, “The forest feels foul…stick to the path.” Since Bilbo was of course still riding with Fili, though Nori thought they’d gotten in some riding practice on their day of rest, there was little chance of him getting lost. It was a few hours after sunset when Elrohir began talking to Thorin about stopping for the night. Thorin begrudgingly agreed. “A fire is both a hazard and a safeguard here…” Elladan muttered. “A shame that is true but still we need one. Stay close, Elladan and I will fetch firewood.” “The filthy Orcs usually avoid Mirkwood so that isn’t a usual danger…” Elladan sighed. Dwalin scowled, “Then what is?” Elrohir frowned, “You don’t know?” “Why should we?” Thorin grumbled. “We’ve not been in contact with Thranduil the Shirker since he refused to aid us and we’ve spent our years of exile from Erebor living in the ruins of Belegost.” “Spiders, monstrous spiders. Father calls them the spawn of Ungoliant…” Then the Elven twins vanished into the trees… Bilbo and Bombur began to pull out the cooking pot and hardtack. Their flasks were still mostly full. They had gotten a habit of taking a sip or two and passing it on, two types of flasks made no noise: full and empty ones. It was only a precaution… The twins returned with wood… On the back of two of the ponies was a casket of water that the Elladan had negotiated from Beorn during their day of rest. They used some of the water from a casket for when Elrohir and his twin returned, the elf praised them. “The water nearest the Great Forest Road is enchanted, those who drink of it fall into strange dreams. We brought water with us to safeguard us from it.” Thorin knew this naught and the pondering look on Balin proved he did not either. Balin thanked their companions for their foresight. Bombur and Bilbo made a quick meal for them and the weary travellers ate it gladly. Thorin approached Elrohir, “I would like discuss night watch.” “My brother and I need less rest then your Company and we are willing to share watch. Yet we would be glad of the great night vision your people have.” Elladan murmured the tongue of the Khazad, Khazudul with his friend, “Bifur and I will take first watch.” “I will take a second watch,” Elrohir added, “when we travel with our foster brother Estel, his Rangers take four watches to our two. Is it the same with you? We spent much time since our silent leave taking from Imladris ever moving or watched over by Mithrandir whom you call Tharkûn. Night watches are needed here in Mirkwood…” “I will relieve Bifur!” his younger brother Bofur offered. Nori spoke, “Dwalin and I will join Elrohir for the first of his two watches.” Dwalin nodded in silent agreement. Fili talked with Bilbo softly before raising his voice enough to be heard, “We will relieve Nori and Dwalin. Bilbo has offered to prepare breakfast toward the end of our watch so that we can move at first light.” Thorin decided that this was good counsel and agreed, silently retrieving his bedroll and staking claim to a bit of earth near the fire. XooooooX Thorin woke with a start at the sound of a mighty roar from Dwalin, reaching for Orcrist and drawing it forth. “Wake sons of Durin awake!” Dwalin shouted. “To arms! To arms!” The Company awoke drawing their blades. In the dim light of the fire, they soon perceived they were surrounded. Elrohir spat, “Begone unclean spawn of Ungoliant!” Elladan wielded a sword in one hand and a torch in the other. “Show no mercy for you will be shone none! These fell spiders will put you in a death-like sleep and use you for food to feed their foul offspring.” Dwalin raised two of his axes, “Ori use the axe you carry for me!” The spiders had been spotted before they could attack due to the great vigilance of Elrohir, Nori and Dwalin. The alarm was given and despite their exhaustion the thirteen Khazad-dim, one hobbit and two elves fought mightily with steel, iron and fire… The battle raged fiercely and was not yet won when the sun wanly shone through a misty forest. The spiders seemed endless… Then there came the sound of horses… Elrohir and Elladan called out in Sindarin and the cry was answered. The spiders tried to retreat but the appearance of Mirkwood elves turned the tide. A golden haired elf and a fire-haired one dipped their arrows into the flames of their weakening fire and sent them flying into the spiders. The monsters were set aflame and they were slain by their companions. Once the spiders were routed; Elrohir and Elladan greeted the Mirkwood elves. “Legolas and Tauriel, you are very well met.” The blonde male elf embraced them warmly, “What brings you into Mirkwood? And with such company?” “Father asked us to guide them into Mirkwood Legolas, he has put what aid he can into their quest.” Elrohir replied. The elf called Legolas frowned, “Father will be unhappy…he has refused to keep the treaty between himself and those who once lived in Erebor. He will be against disturbing the rest of Smaug for fear that the treatment of Dale would be brought his gates. Although dragon fire might clear the forest of the spiders we have been fighting since the Fall of Erebor and the exile of its refugees. They have grown more numerous of late and we lose more of the forest every day. The Men-I-Naugrim has been overrun many times in recent weeks…” Thorin vaguely felt that this Legolas was familiar, “You are Legolas, youngest son of Thranduil are you not?” “You are Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thor. Grandson of the last King under the Mountain.” Legolas nodded, “You are coming hoping to return…” “You would if it were you would you not? If you were chased from this place you call home and you thought there was a chance to reclaim it would you not try?” Thorin retorted passionately. Legolas was thoughtful when he replied, “I would, I will give you what help I can. Father will be displeased.” “Is it wise to speak so frankly.” Elladan asked warily. “Tauriel and I lead only those who are loyal to us.” Legolas replied with a shrug. “Are you and the lady,” Balin asked curiously. Tauriel laughed even as she spoke for the first time, “We are cousins, our mothers were sisters. We were raised as siblings and such an affection lies between us.” “My cousin’s heart is spoken for, my heart is still mine to call my own.” Legolas said with a shrug. Bilbo seemed excited to meet more elves; Fili had learned to appreciate the sons of Elrond. He wondered if he could do the same for the son and niece of Thranduil the Shirker. Somehow, Elrohir and Elladan’s horses had kept most of their ponies calm but two were lost. They had to rearrange their possessions and supplies but Fili oversaw that while Bilbo saw to breakfast as promised. Using some of the casketed water, Dori made coffee and tea to give them energy despite the disturbed night. They packed and mounted up following the elves of Mirkwood deeper into the forest along the worn road built by the Khazad-dim of Erebor after it’s founding by Thrain I. The exiles from Erebor; Thorin, Balin, Dori, Gloin and Dwalin looked upon Thranduil’s kin with suspicion while Kili, Fili and Nori were willing to treat them with wary friendship. Bilbo was just excited to meet more elves. Amused, Elladan called him and Fili forward, “Legolas and Tauriel, this is Bilbo Baggins of the Shire. He is a Hobbit, perhaps the name Perian is more familiar?” Legolas frowned, “I thought there were mere legend…” “Legends have some element of truth.” Elladan chuckled. Tauriel nodded, “Elladan is wise.” “Your company has been missed Lady Tauriel.” Elrohir commented. “My training was over and my place is here in the service of my Lord Thranduil.” Tauriel shrugged. Silence descended upon the riders. They ate lembas as their midday meal as was custom since leaving Imladris. They camped in a place that was reckoned safe, far safer then their camp the previous night. The elves under the joint leadership of Tauriel and Legolas together with Bombur and Bilbo prepared a meal. Elladan and Elrohir ate with the elves of Mirkwood. Later they in conjunction with Legolas, Tauriel and Thorin arranged for night watches before bedding down for the night. XooooooX It was yet another day’s riding before they would come to the Hall of Thranduil. Legolas counselled Thorin, “Do not let my father suspect that you are travelling to Erebor. He will not take it well. Best to do it and be done with it before he can thwart you in your Quest. Say that your people have become too large for your halls in Ered Lúin and you are investigating mountains untroubled by the Orcs. The Misty Mountains are too dangerous, I doubt he would want you near enough to offer you the Mountains within the Greenwood but above all do not mention Erebor while you are within his Hall.” They had left the road laid by their forefathers and followed the elves of Mirkwood deeper into the forest having passed through the mountains mentioned by Legolas just before setting camp. From there they followed the tributary of the Forest River that emptied into a pool in the embrace of the Mountains within the Forest. Thorin who had no love for Thranduil the Shirker silently acknowledged and accepted this subterfuge. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 18 The Company currently composed of thirteen Khazad-dim and one hobbit had arrived at Erebor on their third day out of Laketown. It was the fourth day by the time they climbed it in search of the hidden door and Gandalf appeared. Yet it was the fifth night out of Laketown, which was Durin’s Day when the moon shone on the door and they found it with the aid of a thrush. Before dawn on the sixth day Bilbo was expected to enter Erebor to search for the dreaded dragon… Using a branch that had burnt enough to be charcoaled they traced the outline of both the door and the key hole for future reference… Thorin had been on edge for weeks but sleep was hard to come by when they were this close. He was conscious of Bilbo leaving camp to enter into Erebor but he did not see Nori follow.Nor was he aware that Fili and Dwalin were awake and anxious… XooooooX Smaug was woken by the sound of stumbling… “I smell a child of Aüle.” He rumbled from his place sleeping in the treasury. The dwarf he smelt stepped forward. “I am Nori son of Stor, brother to a prince-consort of the Line of Durin. I have come on behalf of the Line of Durin to speak with the Great Smaug.” The movement brought the smell of another, an unfamiliar mixture that he could not see. “There is another…he disappeared but I can smell him. He smells of Aüle and Yavanna.” “Pay him no heed.” Nori said dismissively. “He will do nothing I do not say.” “What would the Line of Durin want of me?” Smaug said his eyes glowing like coals. Nori did not look in his eyes; he must have heard the tales told about the danger of looking into a Dragon’s eyes. “There are rumours abroad that the Great Smaug has breathed his last and that the treasure of Erebor is unguarded. Dain, Lord of the Iron Hills covets his treasure. Unfortunately, there is one who according to Khazad law has a greater claim to the treasure.” “Who would that be?” Smaug said with a dangerous voice that was close to a roar. Nori perched on a chest of gold. “Thorin; he was only a young prince, third in line to the Throne of Erebor when you arrived Great Smaug. Curiously, my own brother is betrothed to his youngest nephew. We were interested in an alliance with the Great Smaug. Our people have great skill with stone, jewel and metal. We thought perhaps in exchange for letting us move back to Erebor we might return it to glory so that Great Smaug can be enshrined in it and bask in reflected glory.” “What about my treasure?” Smaug’s voice held a frown. “Half of it would remain yours oh Great Smaug. The other half would be used to make Erebor great. Your domain would be the treasury and you can continue to sleep among our mountain’s shared treasure. One of our Company would gladly serve as a custodian, his name is Gloin Great Smaug. He can with your assistance, for I have heard that dragons possess great memories and know every treasure by sight and smell. Then you can decide how to share the wealth, what you will pay us for rebuilding Erebor. Together we will defend ourselves from the likes of Dain who wishes to take your treasure for himself.” Nori said shaking his head, “Dain is a small Khazad who believes he has the right to claim Erebor when it is already in the hands of someone far stronger.” “I heard a prophecy that I would find my heart in Erebor. I have searched and searched through this place and I have found nothing.” Smaug grumbled. “Perhaps, I could arrange a meeting with our Thorin and Tharkŭn.” Nori offered. “Tharkŭn?” Smaug asked. Nori shrugged, “He is called many names, he is a wizard and I’ve heard that he appeared when Sauron rose to power.” “Sauron, in the tongue of the Nolder it meant the Abhorred or the Abominable which is a far cry from his original name; Mairon the Admirable.” Smaug snorted and there was a flash of fire in the dark. “He was always biding his time. If he could have rose up against Melkor he would have. He was always planning to make himself Lord of Arda but was merely waiting for Melkor to be cast down by the Valar. I like Sauron allowed myself to be convinced to join Melkor and seduced by promises of greatness from the side of Aüle. In return for my treachery I was tortured by Melkor and twisted into a dragon. For Melkor could not truly create unlike Aüle; he could only twist what was already made for evil.” “Would the Great Smaug allow a humble Nori to invite Tharkun and Thorin to a conference? Perhaps, we can negotiate something that would benefit us both? For I doubt that one could truly overcome the Great Smaug.” Nori said appealing to the Dragon’s pride. “I will meet with them. I do not trust one of Durin’s line in my Sanctuary.” Smaug said in a stern voice. “We will talk at the Gate of Erebor. One insult and I will not take it well.” Nori bowed, “I will relay the will of the Great Smaug. Come my friend, we must go tell Thorin and Tharkŭn of our findings. The Great Smaug lives and will have counsel with Durin’s Heir and the Grey Wizard.” Smaug watched and listened. Nori and his invisible friend took nothing from his treasury as they stumbled back in the dark. It was that as well as their willingness to show him their backs that made him trust them… XooooooX Thorin was pacing, Gandalf puffing on his pipe and Balin frowning when Fili led Nori and Bilbo back to where Thorin was waiting irritably.. Thorin glared, “What took you so long?” “Well first we had to find the treasury.” Nori drawled, “Got lost a few times. Then we had to negotiate with Smaug himself.” “He lives?” Thorin swallowed, the surprise of that made him forget the lecture he might have given the nosy Khazad for ignoring Gandalf’s advice. Nori scoffed, “Of course he lives. What did you think? That he was dead and his rotting corpse was stinking up your treasury?” Thorin scowled, “I was hopeful.” “Something is pulling you to Erebor.” Gandalf observed, “It’s making you anxious and temperamental.” “Smaug agreed to meet with you both to discuss terms. He was interested in possibly allowing us to return.” Nori said blandly. “That is if you can avoid insulting him or worse threatening him Thorin.” Thorin glared. “He’s responsible for thousands of deaths.” “Hundreds.” Gandalf corrected. “If he hadn’t come then we wouldn’t have lost so many…Frerin would still be alive as well as others.” “Your grandfather allowed gold to consume him.” Gandalf snapped. “Your father was barely managing to run Erebor as it was. Gold is a weakness in the design, a weakness that Yavanna herself foresaw and Sauron exploited.” He turned to Nori, “What does Smaug want?” “He heard a prophecy that he would find his heart in Erebor but he’s searched and found nothing. He maybe willing to allow us to rebuild, we might only be allowed at most half of its treasure in exchange for rebuilding it.” Nori shrugged. “Half? Only half?” Thorin sputtered. “If you’re lucky, but were you to insult Smaug it might be less.” Nori scowled. “How did you get him to agree to anything?” Gandalf asked. “I stroked his ego; a dragon’s weakness is their pride.” Nori shrugged. “He particularly wishes to see you Tharkûn.” “The origins of Dragons are a source of debate among the White Council.” Gandalf mused. “He claims he was one of Maiar, in the service of Aüle. He called us the children of Aüle, well he called me that but claimed Bilbo whom he could not see was the child of Aüle and Yavanna.”“Many Maiar fell in those dark days…some by choice, others by force.” Gandalf said shaking his head. “Well anyway, Smaug wishes to meet you both at the Gates of Erebor. He says he doesn’t trust a Durin in the Treasury.” Nori shrugged. Thorin’s scowl deepened. “With the history of gold lust it makes sense Uncle.” Fili said gently. “I’m not my grandfather.” Thorin grumbled. “You were named for him.” Balin pointed out. Thorin glared at him. Balin shrugged, “If I can’t join you then I’ll go have tea with Dori.” Nori smirked, “Tell him I’m quite fine.” “Aside from bruises.” Dwalin muttered from behind them, he seemed to have appeared behind Fili, Bilbo and Nori. “From tripping over fallen stone or walking into walls in the dark. Unlike you Dwalin I don’t have excellent night vision from living in a mountain.” Nori retorted, he pulled Dwalin close by his shirt and kissed the burly warrior. “I appreciate that you worry about me.” Dwalin turned red, coughing nervously. “Perhaps, there maybe something about the sons of Stor…” Balin mused, “They seem to be quite intriguing.” “Perhaps it is the line of Durin.” Nori teased, “Your cousin Gloin is with Fili’s elder sister, Kili is with Ori and we’ve captured you two.” “My cousin Ferumbras is quite enamoured with Bofur.” Bilbo grinned. “Bit awkward with you all pairing off.” Thorin grumbled. “Come on Thorin. We have a dragon to talk with.” Gandalf said sharply, “They don’t like to be kept waiting. We must be diplomatic if you ever wish to hold the title of King under the Mountain.” Thorin scowled. “I’ll stay with Fili.” Bilbo said quietly. “I don’t want to be a distraction for you three.” Thorin shrugged. XoooooX Thorin was stiff backed but had an aura of wary interest as he led them to the Gates of Erebor. Nori was overwhelmed by the sheer glory of Smaug in daylight. “Oh Great Smaug,” “You are Olórin, are you the one this son of my master Aüle calls Tharkûn?” Smaug seemed not to hear him and was stunned at the sight of Gandalf. Gandalf seemed to glow with blinding light, “I am, I was once the guest of Lady Neinna, the faithful servant of Manwe and Varda. We were five who were sent to be the hands of the Valars and to combat Mairon when he rose to power.” “I am…I was…” “You were Salmar were you not?” Gandalf barked. “I do not remember how I fell. I was told that I betrayed my master; I believed it until I stood before you both. Now I am not so sure…I…you are whom I have searched for. I find that I am too tormented to look upon you. You must be Thorin, the Rightful King under the Mountain.” Smaug said tiredly. “You are one of the lost spirits of fire?” Gandalf frowned. “Is there a way to see whether I betrayed my master or if I were tricked? My heart is here, like Meilan I would choose to stay yet I am unworthy. I am trapped in this form…” Smaug asked; his clawed feet moving closer to Thorin yet his yellow eyes remained fixed on Gandalf though they tried to look away. “You can submit yourself to Manwe and Varda; perhaps Illuvatar would grant you redemption.” Gandalf nodded. “I will do so. I shall not hide and skulk as Mairon did.” Smaug said quietly. He bowed, “Send for one who can inscribe a contract between us, Thorin.” Nori bowed, “My brother, the prince-consort is the royal scribe, would that be of service Great Smaug?” “Though I do not resemble my former self, my name was Salmar. I would prefer to make that the name that I inscribe this bond between Thorin and myself.” The dragon said sternly. “I am less great then Olórin here, for he is a Maia who serves Manwe and Varda and he has never deviated from his loyalty.” Nori bowed once more and scurried away. “I am the weakest of those sent. Saruman the White as he is called here in Eriador, considers me the weakest even if Radagast the Brown is the weakest in mind. We all had different charges given by our Vala beyond that given to us all…” “Radagast?” the dragon asked. “You knew him in the First Age as Aiwendil.” Gandalf offered. “An odd fellow but likeable.” That was the last Nori probably heard of the conference considering how fast he was running back to camp. XooooooX Thorin was shocked to find himself sexual excited when Smaug roared. Gandalf frowned,. “What was that about?” “Apparently Nori’s brother saw fit to insult me and Nori apologized.” Smaug drawled. Thorin was shifting closer to Smaug but he wasn’t really conscious of it. He hadn’t realised how beautiful the dragon was when he dragged his grandfather out of the treasury that fateful day… To an outsider it would seem that Salmar was standing closer to Thorin and that Thorin seemed to bask in his presence. All of his hatred for Smaug the Abominable was seemingly vanished… “How is Arien?” Salmar asked. “Still piloting the Sun; with Tilion still following ever after.” Gandalf shrugged. “Ah…we were close once, Arien and I. I remember now, we were what the Children of Illuvatar would call siblings. She must be very angry with me...” Salmar frowned. “The contract Salmar?” Gandalf asked gesturing at Ori who had taken out parchment, quill and ink. Ori was perched on a large piece of stone that had been torn off the gate. He was studiously ignoring Nori as he prepared himself to record. “I Salmar, also known as Smaug the Magnificent or Smaug the Terrible do grant to Thorin and his thirteen companions one-half of the treasure of Erebor. The treasure is to be divided by the Khazad Gloin and myself upon my return from the throne of Manwë. At no point is Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain to enter the Treasury until my return.” Ori glared, “Why would you deny our Leader the right to visit the Treasury?” “To protect him from the madness that gold has wrought on the royal lines cause by the Rings of Power.” Gandalf said sharply. Thorin scowled, “I never wore it.” “Never the less it was worn by your sire and grandsire, thus it would have an effect on you.” Gandalf frowned, “It’s the nature of the rings of power touched by Sauron.” Thorin growled, “But Sauron didn’t forge Durin III’s ring!” “He tainted their purpose and his Master ring changed what was meant as a gift into a curse.” Gandalf snapped. “This is Salmar’s attempt to protect you from fallen under the sway of gold as Thror did! Would you doom your people before they returned?” Thorin glared, “Of course not! We’ve suffered enough as it is!” “Then agree to not enter the treasury!” Nori glared, “The Ring of Durin III damned us all! It brought us Durin’s Bane because of his greed we delved too deep and brought a Bal-roq into Khazad-dûm’s hallowed halls. The fame of the Durin folk’s wealth brought Orcs of Angmar to Mount Gundabad our holy site and Smaug to Erebor. Countless have died for greed. Is your pride worth the lives of more? Dain will come, who else? Erebor must stand strong and it is not worth your pride. There are orphans enough among the Khazad-dim!” Thorin sighed, “Agreed. If you will hurry back…” Salmar raised a clawed foot and placed it on Thorin’s shoulder, “I will come back. No matter what I will come back to you. You are my heart, the Heart of the Mountain and the one Illuvatar meant for me. Together we will build a kingdom stronger then Melian and Thingol, our children will be as powerful as Lùthien.” Gandalf stood outside the Gates of Erebor and shouted aloud, “Gwaihir!” At once a great eagle appeared. The great dragon formerly called Smaug fell before the eagle, “Servant of Manwë Súlimo!” Gandalf stroked the eagle’s feathered head, “Cousin, this is a lost fire Maia of Aüle. He wishes to be given over to our Master for judgment. He is unsure of whether he fell by choice or was forced to it. I would take him myself but my task is not complete thus I cannot escort him myself.” “I hear and obey Olórin.” The mighty eagle said inclining his head; “while escorting a dragon is not usually part of my duties I am sure that Manwë will allow me to enter Aman with him. I will leave my brother Landroval and send Meneldor ahead. Doubtless, Tulkas and Eönwë will meet us at the shore of Valinor.” “Tulkas…he will want me chained.” Salmar said shaking slightly. “You do not have to submit yourself for judgment.” Gandalf said quietly. “I will not hide from the Mânawenûz; though no doubt Námo will want to cast judgment on me instead for my deeds which are no doubt recorded by Vairë.” Salmar frowned. “There are things that she understands not even as she weaves them. Like Námo and Manwë, she to will have to ask Illuvatar how to interpret what she has woven.” Gwaihir said with a shrug. “Watch over this one Olórin, I will send one before and ask the other to oversee my people and continue our watch.” Salmar nodded, “I will wait. If I am redeemed and return quickly by your definition, you will wait for me Thorin won’t you?” Thorin flushed, “I waited this long for you, what is more time?” The eagle returned quickly, “I am a servant of Manwë, a Maia as are you. Do not let the form fool you; for it was my father who with Eärendil brought down Ancalagon the Black.” Salmar bowed, “I submit myself for judgement.” “Come, it is a long flight to Valinor and to Mount Taniquetil.” Gwaihir said sharply. “You must go at once before the Necromancer learns and attempts to stop you.” Gandalf counselled. The dragon and the eagle went winging through the sky their faces to the West. Immediately Gandalf forced Thorin to sign the contract with Salmar and Balin to witness along with himself. Then Thorin looked to the Mountain’s broken gates. “Home. I have come home at last. I am Thorin II, King under the Mountain and this is my Hall.” Gandalf held out a hand to Thorin, “I am glad that our mission was an unlooked for success. Be careful Thorin, son of Thrain there is said to be a curse upon a dragon’s horde. It calls to its former owners to challenge its Reclaimer for their share, remember the lesson of Fram, son of Frumgar, Lord of the Éotheod. I must go, for I am needed in Mirkwood.” He whistled and his horse appeared, Gandalf leapt into the saddle and was riding with great speed down the mountain. Nori snatched the contract between Salmar and Thorin, “The Custodian of the treasury is Gloin and he will take possession for he is an honourable sort until Salmar returns. It is the one place no one but Gloin will enter. We can move into the mountain and begin repairs but that is all.” “Who died and made you king?” Ori glared. “King?” Nori scoffed, “I’m just looking out for all of us. If we fall under the sway of the dragon’s horde it will damn us all.” “We should send word to the Thrain that all is in readiness. They will no doubt said their colonists, I believe that Ferumbras said that he would begin the arrangements at once.” Balin offered. “We can send Bilbo but I need Fili here.” Thorin said in a dark voice. “We’ll send word to Dís that she can begin preparations to move our people from the ruins of Norgrod here.” Nori frowned, “Wouldn’t it be wiser to send word by Bofur? He was quite fond of Ferumbras and he would go far more quickly. I believe that Bofur would consider it an honour to be sent.” “The messenger must be Bilbo for he is one of those creatures.” Thorin replied sharply. Nori skulked off with the contract leading them back towards camp… ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 19 It was quickly becoming clear that the longer they were in Erebor, the more affected Thorin’s mind was. If their leader wasn’t brooding in the throne room of Thor, Thorin stood in the top most room of the gatehouse and looked out with mad eyes. The more Thorin pressed to enter the treasury to search for the Arkenstone, the stauncher Gloin appeared. He was entrusted with its protection and the time had not come in which to enter. Thorin’s preoccupation meant he noticed not… Yet while Thorin saw and ate naught, in his name much was begun…. XooooooX Bofur was on watch during a long night when Thorin was in the gatehouse staring seemingly at nothing. He saw looking out towards the ruined city on the edge of the lake. There seemed to be points of light there, like torches or braziers. Who would come there? Their passing had revealed that many of the roofs were rotted so that they had fallen in or blown off. What remained of the gates too had not survived the passage of time well… “Enemies…” Thorin’s voice was rough for he spoke little since the contract was struck between him and Smaug. “Enemies have come to threaten my kingdom.”Bofur knew little about what was arranged between Smaug and Thorin other then that Thorin was not to step into the treasury. Anytime Thorin tried to send them into the treasury to search for the Arkenstone, Balin and Gloin refused to allow it. This reaction was not the Thorin Bofur had come to know during their travels… “Thieves! Enemies to Erebor! Awake! Awake!” Thorin stomped out of the top of the gatehouse, “You there!” he yelled at Bofur, “Awaken our companions! Erebor will be secured before morning!” Bofur was confused; if anyone had come to that city then surely they needed help. Reluctantly, he did as he was bidden and went to find Fili and Balin to whom they had obeyed since Thorin’s illness began. XooooooX What only two? Have you come to argue with me? I am your king! Have you turned against me once I brought us to the home we had lost.” Thorin raged. Fili sighed, “No uncle you are our king, we only wish to offer counsel. Those who come to Dale maybe in need of help, should we not try to help them? To show to the world the greatness of Thorin the Reclaimer?” “I will show them my strength!” Thorin thundered, “I will have Erebor’s gates repaired and barred before dawn!” Balin sighed, “Thorin we lack the skill and the strength to do so.” “Then build me a wall from the rubble!” the maddened king railed. Seeing that their king lost in madness, the company did as they were bidden with sore hearts. XooooooX As the Elven prince and the Lakeman rode towards the barricaded gate of Erebor, Thorin thundered, “Shoot a warning shot Kili.” “Uncle they ride empty-handed!” Fili protested “Fire Kili.” Thorin spoke as if he heard him not. It seemed to his companions that he did not… Kili would not aim to kill and shot so it landed in front of Bard’s horse. Bard’s face was full of betrayal, “Thorin why do you do this? I took you into my home! We shared what we could. We come in need; for Orcs destroyed our town they burnt it to the ground. We have nothing! Once more we are cast out into the world homeless. You promised to repay us for our aid. We ask only for a fair repayment.” “Repayment? When the cost of stabling our ponies bankrupted us?” Thorin sneered. “My people did not have the benefit of a strong leader, we had a corrupt one that we were bound to. He prospered while we starved; while our homes burned he fled with our gold. We don’t even have that to help us rebuild. Winter is coming let us winter with you. We will help rebuilt Erebor, in spring we will move back to Dale. We will pay you the money you give us to help rebuild Dale. We are fishermen, basket weavers and barrel makers; we know nothing of stone. It has been generations since we lived in a city of stone rather then a town made from wood. We are willing to learn, teach us! Let us bring back the golden days of Dale and Erebor together!” Bard begged. “Why does the elf ride with you?” Thorin snorted. “He wished to see for his own eyes that your quest was fulfilled.” Elladan replied. “Thorin please, I wish to have peace between us!” Bard called back. “Begone! We want no beggars here.” Thorin barked. Fili shouted, “Wait! Uncle the Orcs were likely following us. Let me pay them. You promise and I would not have it said that Thorin was not honourable and broke his word.” “What of the Elven soldiers? What does Thranduil come for that he rides as one to war?” Thorin hissed. “He said that there is a piece that he paid for and was not delivered ere the dragon came.” Elladan shrugged as if it mattered not. “If Fili will pay Bard what we owe the people of Laketown, let me pay Thranduil. I am owed one-fourteenth your share of the treasure; I have little need for the riches that would be one - twenty-eighth of the treasury of Erebor. That way there is no need for war.” Bilbo offered immediately. Thorin’s face darkened with rage, “You filthy Shire rat! You have seduced my heir’s allegiance away from me! You have bewitched him with some Elvish magic!” Bilbo stumbled back; “I have done nothing to take Fili from you! I only wish to help…” “We need no help from alien races! Dwalin fling the Shire rat from the ramparts! He shall have no share of my treasure!” Kili shouted, “You can’t kill Bilbo! You’ll damn Fili to death.” “They are not Ones! Mahal would not fashion Ones for his people with alien races.” Thorin yelled in a rage. “If Bilbo is not welcome in Erebor,” Fili thundered, “then neither am I! I will not darken the gates of Erebor, Thorin son of Thrain until you apologize for the rash and cruel words you have spoke this day.” “Traitor!” Thorin’s hand flew out at Fili; it did not hit him or pull a weapon. Instead it tore a cloak broach that bore the crest of Durin. “You are no kin of mine, begone with your hobbit whore! Throw them out of my kingdom! They have no claim on my treasure! They will never see a single coin of it!” “Uncle no!” Kili cried out. “You heard me! I want them gone!” Thorin yelled, “Before I do it myself!” Dwalin’s voice was thick, “Nori…we better do as he says.” Thorin was viciously pleased when Fili and Bilbo were cast out of Erebor like the thieving scum they were. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 20 Just as Salmar expected, Tulkas, the Champion of the Valar and Eönwë, Herald of Manwe and the chief of the Maiar met them. “You dragon why have you come?” Tulkas roared. Salmar knelt down, “To submit myself for judgment. Lùthien, daughter of Melian prophesied that I should find redemption and my Heart in Erebor. I have, standing in the presence of my heart and Olórin I question what Mairon told me. I am not convinced that I fell by choice.” Eönwë turned to Gwaihir; “You are relieved of your prisoner and are sent with thanks from Manwë for your faithful service.” The mighty eagle bowed and then flew back the way they had come having followed the straight road of the Eldar. Salmar was left amid the company of the Herald of Manwë and Tulkas who escorted him to the citadel of Manwë Sulimo on Mount Taniquetil. “The Fallen Maia of Aüle Salmar more recently called Smaug the Terrible has come Mânawenûz to stand before you for judgment.” Eönwë said when they entered the throne room of the Valar. “I have sent Ilmarë to fetch Aüle and Namo.” Manwë thundered. Salmar quaked at the sound of his voice. “If you think it wise.” “Manwë is our Lord of course his decisions are wise.” Tulkas growled. “Peace Tulkas, he has come of his own free will for judgment of deeds done by him.” Manwë corrected. Tulkas scowled but fell silent. When his Vala entered the chamber Salmar knew it and shame filled his being… “Tell me it isn’t true! Salmar wouldn’t have served Melkor! There must be some mistake, Salmar like Arien was one of my most loyal; they were with me since the Ainulindalë. We created many things together.” Aüle said in protest. “He is clearly a dragon Aüle,” Tulkas spat. “He never returned from Middle Earth. Salmar must have joined with him.” Salmar shook his head, “I have no memory of it, and I have always been a loyal servant. I was told when I woke as a dragon that I joined with Melkor who was named Morgoth, the Dark Lord.”“Who woke you?” Manwë asked. “Mairon but he claimed he went by Sauron. This was a long time ago.” Salmar shrugged his wings. “We often said that dragons and Bal-roqs were likely twisted servants of Aüle and Melkor. Ungoliant was one of Melkor’s as we all know.” Varda said speaking for the first time in a silvery voice. “Perhaps, Bal-rogs fell willingly and dragons did not…” “Your own eagles brought tales of the destructions the dragons wrought!” Tulkas said sternly, “What proof have we that this one has not done as they did?”“I mostly slept the long centuries.” Salmar shrugged, “I fought in no battles. My only interaction with the children of Illuvatar was when I attacked and entered Erebor. I believe some died at that time. For which I feel shame, I wish they had not.” “You say you met Lùthien? When?” Varda asked frowning.“Just before she destroyed Tol-in-Gaurhoth,” Salmar shrugged, “I am sure that she could be questioned.” Manwë shook his head, “She lies in the Halls of Man, not with the Elves. We could not reach her if we wished.” “I will speak for the child.” Salmar felt even more shamed, his maker… “Thou art Salmar, mate of Durin the First, Hand of Aüle, Sharer of Knowledge, Flame of Mahal. Stolen by Mairon and twisted into a dragon.”The Valar and the Maiar bowed low before the voice and breath of Eru. “Your good upon Arda and your loyalty to Aüle wins you pardon. You will return and help the children of your master rebuild. Your redemption will be painful my child do you wish to be redeemed?” “I would be grateful for redemption, he is my Heart and to leave him was painful but I was unworthy to even look at him in this accursed form.” Salmar said stiffly.“Come then my child.” Salmar was taken in Illuvatar’s mighty hand, when it opened it was intensely hot. He glanced around, “Where are we Illuvatar?” “The core of Arda my child.” Illuvatar told him “First you must undress.” Scratching and clawing himself, Salmar desperately tried to shed his scales like a snakeskin. After three times through this ordeal, he began to fear that he would never be rid of the scales. Illuvatar's voice told him, "You will have to let me undress you," and he tore the skin from Salmar, picked him up, and dropped him into the molten heart of Arda. As Salmar washed in the lava, he realized that his soul was no longer was in pain because he had turned back into a fire Maia. “Come to me my child.”Salmar approached his creator as a spirit of pure flame, “What wilt thou my Lord?” “You know there were thirteen children of Aüle. You Salmar were the mate of Durin the Blessed. Your children filled those halls first and you were the hands of Aüle to watch over the children of Durin until the loss of your Durin. Then you were captured on your way back to Aule’s Forge in Valinor, after meeting Mairon who gifted you a bracelet of gold to welcome you home. Durin’s spirit has been reforged and lives in Thorin, he is waiting for you Salmar…go to him…”
1069273	The New Arrivals	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "SilverHawks", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by phantomchajo", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-12-04T00:00:00", "words": "3,306", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": null, "Character": "Original Characters", "Relationships": null, "Series": "SilverHawks: Beta-Verse", "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 New Arrivals ‘6 months. Gotta be a record for me,’ she thought to herself as she trekked across the massive campus grounds. ‘6 months, 4 instructors, a hand full of classes, as much time in the flight sims as possible, and 3 tracking devices later… and I’m still here. Damn him for being stubborn old goat.’ She had arrived at her destination and found that the person she was told to retrieve was not there. She looked all over the area and couldn’t find a trace of the fellow. With an annoyed growl she pulled her sunglasses up so they rested on her head and tracked down someone that worked in the area. “Hey, you seen a fellow about yea tall, green skin,” glancing at the crumpled paper in hand, “yellow eyes and as bald as a baby’s butt around here anywhere?” The person was a Naval Ensign that had been assigned to the Academy a few months ago. Turning to look at who was speaking to him, his eyes roamed over the woman a moment. ‘Air Force… Pilot…..’ He spotted her rank tab, ‘Captain….and a SilverHawk Academy Cadet’ He saluted her. “Ma’am? Not for some time Captain…. Wolfst-..!!” his eyes got big at her name badge, completion going pale. “W-w-wolfst-st-storm??!!??” The stories of this rather infamous person had circulated around campus and added to then re-circulated again. Zan curled her lip back in a snarl-like sneer. ‘God, he’s older than me but acts like he’s just meet his worst nightmare.’ She blew out a snort before replying. “Yes, that is my name. Wolfstorm. You got a problem with that?” “n-n-no ma’am!” The Ensign replied quickly, beads of sweet forming on his brow. “SO was he here or not?” “Y-y-yyes Ma’am! He was. He left several hours ago, didn’t specify where he was going,” the Ensign pointed in the direction the fellow had left. She growled softly under her breath as she let out a sign then gave the Ensign a tight lipped not to happy looking smile and patted him on the cheek. “Thanks,” was all she said as she turned and left in search of the person she was suppose to meet. A soft thud of a body hitting the floor gave her pause long enough to look over her shoulder. Rolling her eyes she continued on in her mission. After spening 15 minutes staring at a useless campus map, Keedra decided to try to locate the Wolfstorm person that was supposed to be guiding him. He didn’t have to look far because he heard an annoyed human female voice calling him. "Hey you! Jolly Grean Giant! Your name Fasir?" Keeedra slowly looked up and saw the manifestation of his earlier precog vision standing before him looking none too pleased. "Uh...yes, that is me. Are you...Wolfstorm?" They said it was nearly impossible to tell the body was human. Then the DNA results came back--- it was Rei. Even thought it had been in letter form Midori could hear he uncle\'s voice. She still found herself asking why she wasn’t fighting the bad crowd on Earth. The best answer was Midori wanted to do the most good. Limbo Galaxy needed people like her, so here she was... Looking over her classes and campus map. ‘They should try color coding this thing.’ Taking a look away from the papers showed her that most of the people at the academy towered over Midori. One particularly tall person stood out--he was a Martian. She knew that the natives of Mars were allied with Earth, but didn’t know they send someone for the Silverhawk program. He was talking to a woman who did look to happy to see him. Midori shrugged and turned her attentions back to the map. 'Rawlings tossed a folder across the desk to his assistant. “Have a look at this one.” The colonel, a career man by the name of Dixon, flipped it open, passing a cursory glance over the photo before going on to read the details. “Air Force, ROTC, good marks. Bachelors in administration. Not bad. Where are you looking to put her?” “I’m breaking her in on Wolfstorm,” Rawlings said. “‘Break’ is the operative word. You want to wash her out or something? She looks to be a good candidate.” “It’s not a permanent assignment. I figure if she lasts a week with that walking disaster, she can take anything they throw at her in Limbo.” Dixon snorted. “Shock therapy, huh? Gonna warn her first?” “No. What would be the point?” Rawlings asked. “If I told her just the basics, I’d be lying, and if I told her everything, she’d never believe me. Nah. She’ll sink or swim on her own.” Dixon nodded in thoughtful agreement. “You’re going to have to do something permanent about Wolfstorm eventually. She’s dangerous.” “She also represents a damned big investment on our part. We’d be foolish not to try and recoup at least some of it before throwing in the towel,” Rawlings rationalized. “That’s true,” Dixon allowed, “but I don’t think her purpose was to break in new SilverHawks candidates.” “Her purpose is dead,” Rawlings snorted. “She was just too stubborn to die with it.” He activated the intercom. “Master Sergeant, send in Lieutenant Buchanan please.” There was a crisp “Yes, sir,” and the intercom clicked off. A moment later, there was a tap at the door. “Enter,” Rawlings barked. The door opened, and the lieutenant came in. She was about average height with a light build, brown eyes, and dark hair that swung perhaps an inch below her chin. Her cover was tucked carefully under one arm, and she crossed the room quickly, stopping in front of the wide desk. “Lieutenant Buchanan reporting as ordered, sir,” she snapped, saluting crisply. Rawlings returned it, then gestured to Dixon. “My executive officer, Colonel Dixon.” They exchanged salutes as well, and Rawlings gestured to an unoccupied chair. “Have a seat Lieutenant.” He picked up the file that Dixon had set down and flipped it open. “Second Lieutenant Aurora Buchanan. Graduate of Montana State University. Majored in Administration, with a minor in Computer Science. Joined AFROTC your freshman year, took the Professional Officers Course. Good but not excellent high school grades. Found yourself at college?” “Yes, sir. I saw the cadets drilling at Orientation and something just went off in my head. I knew it was where I belonged.” Rawlings looked her over, comparing her to the image presented in her file. She sat at attention on the edge of the chair, shoulders down, head up, eyes alert, ready to take on anything. “All right, Lieutenant. For the next academic year, you will be temporarily reduced in rank to cadet. We’ll put you through a series of lecture and practical courses, and if you pass the exams, you’ll graduate with a promotion to First Lieutenant, and we’ll see about hooking you up with an initial placement with a team. Sound good?” “Yes, sir. It sounds very good. Thank you, sir.” Rawlings made a notation in her file. “All right. The sergeant out at the desk will have your dorm assignment and class schedule in a few minutes. Good luck, Cadet. Dismissed.” She stood and saluted again. “Thank you, sir.” With another salute to Dixon, she turned and left. “You’re tapping her to lead the next team, out of 200,000 recruits?” Dixon shook his head. “Wolfstorm is going to eat her for lunch.” “We’ll have to wait and see, Colonel. We’ll just have to wait and see.” She crossed her arms and snorted slightly. "That’s my name. Got a problem with it?” "Uh... no..?" he replied unsure of what else to say. "Good. Come on then. You missed Admin by a mile and late to boot." Turning on her heel, she stalked (No other way to term the way she walked) off in the direction of Admissions. Muttering. "6 freaking months at this damned base and the old goat has yet to make a move on getting rid of me.... grrrrr......" Keedra followed quietly for a few feet before he gained the courage to speak again. "I apologize for being late and getting lost. This is a totally new environment for me. My first time on planet Earth, you see..." His voice trailed off when he realized the human wasn’t paying much attention to him. They finally stopped on a walk way. As they stood in silence for a few minutes’, a transport vehicle came to a stop in front of them. "Get on," the human barked without even turning her head. Keedra hung his head slightly and got on after her. It was his first time on the planet and he’d already offended at least one human. He hoped his day wouldn’t get any worse. 'She slouched in the seat of the transport, on booted foot resting on the back of the seat in front of her. Arms crossed and glaring at nothing in general as she chewed on her bottom lip. Yeah, she was a bit harsh on Greenie back there but it was just the way she was. Since she had been found wondering in the desert several years previous, it was like everything that happened before that was just... meaningless. As meaningless as her time is now. Why bother striving to be the best at something when all it causes is more problems than rewards. Blinking she realized they had reached their destination. The Admissions Building. Uncurling from the seat she got out. "Come on before the Admin officers decide it’s time to cut out early and go home for the weekend. If that happens then you are screwed ‘cause you won't be getting your room assignment or class schedules.” Keedra was quick to follow. He didn't want to anger the human any further. From the look on her face it seemed that she was liable to bite his head off. "Lead the way and I shall follow," Keedra replied simply. He figured the less he said the smoother things would go. Aurora stood nervously in the outer office, trying to keep out of the way of the various soldiers moving crisply in and out of offices. "Lieutenant Buchanan!" She turned to see the Master Sergeant waving her over. Neatly stepping around an airman carrying yet another stack of files, she approached the desk. "Didn't you hear me calling you, Lieutenant?" "No, Master Sergeant. I'm sorry. I didn't. The General said I would be temporarily reassigned as a cadet..." "That's just for the officers to worry about. As far as enlisted and pay grade goes, you're still a Second Lieutenant. Don\'t let the worker bees push you around, got it?" "Yes, Master Sergeant. I understand." "Good. Here's your paperwork to start off." He began piling folders into her hands. "Your dorm assignment, class schedules, the activities you've been registered for, according to your interest-matching survey, and your first assignment." "Assignment? Master Sergeant, I just got here, I don't really know the base. How can I have an assignment already?" "Relax, Lieutenant. It's just something quick, to see how you manage. Think of it as one last turn around the block with training wheels." The Master Sergeant glanced from side to side, as if looking for eavesdroppers. "You ever babysit, Lieutenant?" Aurora looked confused. "Um, yeah. When I wanted a little spare cash in high school. Sure." "No problem, then. You can use that small conference room over there to get familiar with the file and meet the subject. Good luck, Lieutenant." He offered her a salute which she returned reflexively, then she made her way to the conference room, gratified to find it empty. Sitting down at the table, she got to work. 'She opened the door to Admissions and walked in. Those officers and cadets that were there all stopped what they were doing to stare a moment. Everyone found some type excuse to look elsewhere, or be busy with something. She scowled silently and waited for the Martian to catch up to her. "If you have your papers, grab a number and stand in line." 'Keedra sighed and took his seat. From the line he could tell he had a long wait. He decided to go into his meditation state until his turn came. "I hope my stay here gets a lot more interesting than this soon," he thought to himself. "Now that human was kind of interesting. A little scary but interesting." Keedra secretly hoped he would cross paths with her again soon. His brother had told him that humans were unpredictable and often guided by their passions and emotions. This Wolfstorm would make an interesting case to observe..... As she was about to turn around and leave the Master Sergeant Stopped Wolfstorm at the door. "Report to the small conference room over there, Captain Wolfstorm." She snorted and Stared at the Master Sergeant. "Why should I?" He rolled his eyes slightly. "Just do it Wolfstorm." "Fine, whatever," She growled out and turned towards the room. "You’re on your own from here Greenie." She then vanished into the small conference room. Aurora regarded her reluctant charge. "They tell me you're dangerous," she began, studying the sprawled form, feet propped on the table, in front of her. "Are they right?" "Depends." "Mmmm. According to the paperwork they gave me, I have an armed guard at my disposal to 'assist' me in escorting you. I don't intend to call on them unless you make it necessary." Zan smirked. "Oh really? They must be getting desperate then if they offer armed guards to help watch me." "It's an option at this point,” Aurora pointed out, “not a requirement. I'm giving you all the rope I can spare. I don't recommend using it to hang yourself." Zan responded with a snort. "As long as you stay out of my personal space, private affairs, and back off when I warn you, then we'll get along just peachy." She dropped her feet to the ground with a soft thud, standing up. "I take it you're ready to go, then?” Aurora asked blandly. “I'm apparently to accompany you when you\'re walking from the dorms to meals, classes, any other locations, and then back to the dorms in the evening. So, at the risk of sounding nosy, what are your plans now?" Looking over the top of her sunglasses, Zan’s eyes shifted slightly in color from a bluish green to a more greenish blue. "Then you’re gonna be doing a lot of walking and neglecting of your own classes and in general going places that will bore you out of that pretty little head." She adjusted her jacket so that the collar brushes the back of her head more snugly. Aurora's bland look remained steady. "General Rawlins' office gave me these for you," she said, handing Zan a revised class and activities schedule. "Pfssff..Old goat. Don't know when to just give up and let things go." She growled softly. "Fine. Whatever." She wadded it up and thrust it into her pocket without a glance. "So," Aurora tilted her head, "where to?" Zan stormed across the compound, and Aurora trailed a few steps behind. It wasn’t all that large a base, and they were in the middle of the desert, more or less. There just wasn’t anywhere for Zan to break and run to, Aurora reasoned. She heard it the minute they stepped out the doors, of course. There were whispers, questions, fingers pointed, and a few troops very obviously turned away when Zan passed. Some went so far as to change the direction they were walking to avoid crossing the pilot’s path. “Monster!” “Animal!” “Should keep that thing on a leash before she kills someone!” Aurora grimaced, but would have let it go, until the rock flew past, missing her and glancing off Zan’s arm. The pilot froze for an instant, then started to turn, and Aurora saw her eyes fade even bluer than before. Scrambling forward, she caught Zan’s other arm and hustled her the remaining few steps to the dorm, opening the door and sending Zan stumbling inside. “Stay in there,” Aurora directed, shutting the door in her face. She turned back to face the gathering crowd. “Who threw that?” she demanded, glaring at the group of silent troops. “You’re disgraceful, every one of you,” she said after a few tense moments. “You’re like something out of a bad creature-feature, the bumbling townspeople chasing around the countryside with burning torches and setting each other on fire. The next person who throws something will be up on charges for assaulting an officer, and I’ll go after the gossip-mongers for conduct unbecoming. If you can’t be civil, your continuing silence will be perfectly acceptable.” She glared once more over the crowd. “Dismissed.” "Hey, are you lost?" Midori looked up, blinking in puzzlement. "Excuse me?" "Are you lost? You looked kinda out of it, for a second." The new girl was taller than Midori, no surprise there, with wavy brown hair, blue eyes, and an infectious smile. "I think so, yes. This thing is a little confusing," she said, indicating her map. "They always are," the other girl assured her. "Where are you heading? You've got your schedule, so I guess you've been to Administration already?" Midori nodded. "I'm supposed to find my dorm room. But I can't figure out which building..." "...Is the dorm? Doesn't help much when they're all just numbered and there's nothing to explain it, huh? It's that one, right over there," she said, pointing across the dusty open square where cadets milled in small groups. "The one behind us has the classrooms," she went on, "and you've found Admin already. The track is right behind Admin, and anything else, they'll escort you to." She looked down at her watch, wrinkling her nose. "Darn it. Running late again. Good luck!" She hurried away, heading for the Admin building. When Aurora turned back to the door and opened it, Zan stood there glaring at her with a scowl on her face. “I could have handled it myself." "That's what gets you into trouble in the first place, 'Handling' things on your own," Aurora shot back. Zan snarled again and brushed past Aurora with enough force to cause the smaller woman to take a couple of steps to the side or else be knocked down. Aurora frowned, 'First assignment and it's already going downhill. How could anyone let this get so bad?' She quickly turned and followed the angry pilot. "Where are you going?" "To my dorm. What do you think?" Zan snapped back. Long stomping strides as she walked towards one of the other buildings. "I thought..." looking back at the building they just came from. Stopping she turned around enough to see two other identical buildings. Low, two-story affairs that had evenly spaced windows along the top and bottom floors. There was only the one door facing the dusty square. Turning back around she caught sight of Zan entering the building on the far left of the trio that stood opposite of the ones she came from. Jogging the rest of the way she entered the same building. It was much cooler inside then outside. The floors carpeted with standard commercial grade high traffic, low maintenance carpet. Eight doors, evenly spaced along the hall, faced each other. And at the end was a desk with a cadet seated behind it. The second cadet was probably somewhere on the other side of the door. Firewatcher duty. As she passed the doors on her way to the end, she glanced in through the window and saw several classes taking place. Not catching site of Zan she continued on to the Cadet at the Desk. "ID Badge please." The cadet said.
1041709	Excuses	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Robin Scherbatsky, Barney Stinson", "Fandom": "How I Met Your Mother", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by firstbreaths", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-11-12T00:00:00", "words": "499", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Robin Scherbatsky/Barney Stinson", "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 }	Barney Stinson is determined to make Robin Scherbatsky believe in magic.She watches him now, twirling a wand between his fingers, hopeful and jaded all at the same time. Robin gets that, she thinks -– there’s a certain kind of desperation, sometimes unrecognised, in constantly having to come up with new illusions, new tricks. Robin’s seen enough of his tricks to know how this works, not least his sleight of hand which ended up with her skin sliding beneath his fingers and the lapels of his suit jacket caught up in her fists.There’s a girl at the bar who screams stupid! and naive! and it goes like this; one beer, two coins appearing behind the girl’s ears and the inevitable plethora of Harry Potter innuendos Barney will have thought up by the following morning. (Last time, he’d started with “what’s up? My wand” and she’d found herself easing into the laughter, her cheeks flushing as Barney hi-fived her, secretly wishing there was a spell to help heal aching hearts).Honestly, if you asked Robin why she doesn’t believe in magic, she’d scoff and say that it’s because she’s been heartbroken too many times before and even if Ron got Hermione, Peter Pan was stuck in his youth forever and for all Merlin’s wisdom, he never stopped Lancelot and Guinevere fucking each other over, but Robin Scherbatsky –- she’s not the type to make excuses. (And even if she was -– which she isn’t , okay -– she wouldn’t make metaphors about love and magic when Barney’s nearby, anyway).“You can’t seriously think that’s going to work on anyone, can you Barney?” she says now as he brandishes the firecracker with an exaggerated twirl and already she can sense his reply -– challenge accep-Ted. It’d have more weight if Ted was actually in the room, but Barney’s Barney and he’s never going to let a few trivialities get in the way of these things.Never has let a few trivialities get in the way of things, actually. Like the fact that he’s waxing poetic in front of his ex-girlfriend about how the girl he’s about to bang is totally a Slytherin because she’s bad, Robin, get it? It’s enough to make her not want to believe in anything, ever again, least of all magic.But when Barney wraps his arm around Robin’s after a laser tag competition and his hand is warm on her shoulder, when their fingers brush as they reach for the scotch, lost in argument about Ted’s latest girlfriend and whether or not New York could survive the zombie apocalypse, there’s that swoop of her stomach and that shudder down her spine that makes her want to press her mouth against his and fall for all his tricks again. It’s a different kind of magic than rabbits in top hats and card decks, for sure – but it’s magic, nonetheless.Oh crap, she thinks. Barney’s Stinson’s got Robin Scherbatsky under his spell.(And like it or not, she’s got no excuses for that.)
1032734	1 She Heard Laughter	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Jane Rizzoli, Maura Isles", "Fandom": "Rizzoli & Isles", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by aolurker", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-11-05T00:00:00", "words": "709", "Additional Tags": "Fluff", "Relationship": "Maura Isles/Jane Rizzoli", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "A Collection of Short Stories", "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 }	Title: She Heard LaughterFandom: Rizzoli & Isles, Jane/MauraRating: PGNotes/Summary: This is written for a fanfic challenge on Tumblr. This challenge was 'Laughter'.Notes 2: Cross posted to Tumblr and FF.net.Notes 3: So....I've decided to start posting her at AO3. :) She Heard Laughter Constance awoke and, glancing at the bedside clock, was surprised at how well she had slept and even more surprised at how late she had slept. Rising, she grabbed and pulled on her robe, then exited her daughter's guest bedroom. As she quietly made her way down the short hall towards the bathroom and kitchen, she heard voices. Actually, she heard laughter. Maura's laughter. And actually, it was more like giggling. She slowed to a silent stop just before rounding the corner into the kitchen, and just listened. "Jane!" her daughter's voice reached her ears, "Jane, stop it!" But the directive was accompanied by another soft giggle, telling the older woman that whatever Jane was doing, Maura was at least partially enjoying it, despite her request for it to stop. Constance couldn't hear what Jane said in return, the detective's voice too low in both volume and pitch to be made out, but whatever it was it caused Maura to admonish the brunette once again with an obviously only half-hearted, "Jane! I'm trying to make coffee!" as a soft steam hiss also could be heard. "Shhh," this time she could hear Jane fairly clearly, "You'll wake our guest." "That is exactly what I'm afraid of!" she heard Maura's light-hearted loudly whispered reply. A picture of what was going on in the kitchen became clearer in Constance's mind. Maura was probably at the island, stamping out beans in an attempt to brew a fresh cup of java and Jane was probably standing behind her, probably very close behind her, probably flush with the doctor, hands probably wandering to places Constance would rather not imagine, and probably whispering inappropriate suggestions in Maura's ear. A small squeak? A soft yelp? The older woman wasn't sure how to describe the sound she heard. But she knew it was a sound Maura made and it was quickly followed by another bout of giggling and another admonished, "Jane!" Maura's mom strained to hear Jane's side of the conversation. She thought she heard something about the two of them having their own Roman coffee orgy but surely that wasn't what she said, was it? Well, whatever it was, Maura's response was to laugh as she replied, "You are so incorrigible!" Constance also thought she hear a slap, imagining Maura was shoeing away those wandering hands of the detective's. Constance then heard a muffled chuckled reply from Jane, and a final hiss of steam before the kitchen fell mostly silent. The older woman could only assume Jane had finally convinced Maura to at least give her a kiss. And that's when Constance found her eyes stinging. Because, while she'd admit that she was a little taken off guard when she found out Jane and Maura were more than just friends, and while she'd admit that she wasn't initially pleased by it, she also would now admit that Jane's presence in Maura's life had changed her daughter. Changed her for the better. But she hadn't been able to really pinpoint what that change was until this moment. Of all the people who had come and gone from Maura's life, of all the people who had come and stayed, including Maura's father, including she herself, no one before had ever made Maura's eyes light up so bright, no one had ever made Maura smile so much. No one had ever made her laugh so easily. No one before. No one until Jane. In short, no one had ever made Maura so happy. And there was simply no way she could ever be displeased about that. Constance blinked back the tears before they could fall, and retreated silently to the bathroom, purposely closing the door with a loud click when she got there, purposely alerting the two lovebirds that she was awake, and giving them time to compose themselves before she made her way to the kitchen. Neither of the two younger women the wiser that Constance had heard their laughter.
1039138	A Thousand Miles	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Alexandra Garcia, Araki Masako", "Fandom": "Kuroko no Basuke \| Kuroko's Basketball", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by masi", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-11-10T00:00:00", "words": "884", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Alexandra Garcia/Araki Masako", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Short Stories for BPS", "Collections": "basketball poet's society", "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 }	Alex loves visiting Masako (in fact, she keeps a duffel bag packed and ready in her coat closet at all times), but she really doesn’t like Akita. It is a horrible place to visit in the winter. There isn’t much to do inside Masako’s freezing apartment besides layering on all the sweaters, pants, and gloves she can find and then curling up next to the space heater. Even breathing becomes an arduous task. Masako takes pity on Alex on their third anniversary of being a couple and gifts her with a plane ticket to Hong Kong. “We’ll spend the rest of your vacation there,” Masako says. “Since you’re too weak to handle the cold.” “I love you too,” Alex says, and then jumps up with the intention to smother Masako with kisses. Her knee hits the kotatsu. The pot of beautifully steaming yudofu tilts over, spilling tofu and sauce and vegetables all over the table and floor. The rest of the evening is spent sweeping and mopping while Masako lies tucked underneath a gigantic fleece blanket on the couch and watches Triad. Alex has a hard time falling asleep that night, even after she snuggles into Masako’s side. Their upcoming trip will be the first time she and Masako travel together to a place outside of Japan. It is going to be a good trial run for them, a way to see how long they can get along when Masako is out of her element. Maybe Masako will be willing to visit L.A. afterwards, instead of always making Alex come out here. Alex finds flying kind of exhausting. It was a necessity when she played for the WNBA, and nowadays it gets her to the people she wants to see, but she has absolutely no aspirations to be a jet-setter, doesn’t want to do the grand tour of Europe, isn’t an avid fan of the Travel Channel, or anything like that. Flying involves things like long lines at various check-in counters, tedious layovers, stinky toilets, seat-mates who spend the entirety of the flight checking out her boobs, neck pains, leg cramps, greasy hair, panicky thoughts about how far removed she is from solid ground every single time the airplane lurches. Plus, traveling is expensive. She is trying to scrape by with the last of the money she has left from playing professional basketball, that hasn’t gone into paying off the medical bills incurred during the treatment of her eye disease. Freelance coaching is fun and rewarding but barely covers the airfare for the annual trip to Masako’s apartment. The trip to Hong Kong promises to be painful for her bank account, but she can’t wait to go, to ditch her coat and boots. Can’t wait to wear nothing more than a T-shirt and shorts in the hotel room, and that’s only when she is opening the door for room service. She hopes Masako follows her lead. ***After reaching the airport, Masako takes care of the luggage. Then, while they wait for the plane, she goes over their itinerary. Alex rolls the sleeves of her sweatshirt up, paints over the chipped orange polish on her fingernails. When the polish has dried, she runs her fingers up Masako’s leg, slides them underneath the boring black skirt. Masako abandons the itinerary in favor of cussing her out, Yakuza-style, and Alex tests the words out on her tongue, adds them to her vocabulary. Skype calls are never this entertaining, and they always end up with Alex kissing the screen of her laptop while Masako rolls her eyes and calls her an idiot. “I can’t wait for you to come to L.A.,” Alex says, as they are queueing up at the gate to board their airplane. “I can’t wait to show you my new kids. They’re such sweethearts.” She receives a noncommittal “hm” in return. Masako edges ahead of Alex, presents their boarding tickets to the dapper steward. Masako’s dark hair hangs in straight sheets, touching the small of her back, and her heels are gleaming. She looks like a cool, elegant businesswoman, very different from her years in the Japanese National Team. It had taken a moment for Alex to make the connection when Tatsuya first introduced her to his “Coach Araki.” She was less surprised when Masako began brandishing her shinai at her boys and yelling at Tatsuya for telling Alex that Masako used to belong to a biker gang. Maybe that was when Alex realized Masako was the woman for her. Definitely by their third game in Yosen’s gym. They board the plane and find their seats. Masako takes the window seat and spends the entire take-off staring outside, even when the ground drops away and the airplane enters the clouds. But when Alex rests her head against Masako’s shoulder, Masako twines their fingers together. Alex takes her glasses off and puts them in Masako’s lap. Alex is shaken awake only after she drools on Masako’s shoulder. Masako scowls as she cleans the drool off with Alex’s scarf and says, “I’ll have to remember to send the dry-cleaning bill to you. Hey, don’t go back to sleep!” She brushes Alex’s bangs back. “The dinner cart is coming.” She pulls Alex’s tray down. Alex has a feeling that this trip is going to be great.
1082894	Fan Service	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Misha Collins, Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by orphan_account", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-12-14T00:00:00", "words": "4,113", "Additional Tags": "The French Mistake Verse, Episode: s06e15 The French Mistake, convention fun", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "The French Mistake Verse", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Supernatural, Supernatural RPF", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	“You sure about this, Dean?” Sam asked for the umpteenth time.Dean gave a frustrated huff. Sam was either being annoying on purpose or he just had a fucking death wish. Either way Dean was pretty sure he was one step away from strangling the crap out of him, little brother or not. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he ground out. He put in all the stuff they needed for the spell and quickly drew out the sigil. “There. That should do it.” When he was finished, Dean stepped back to admire his handiwork.It had been Bobby’s idea. After Cas walked into the lake and proceeded to combust like some whacked up angel blow up doll, leaving only a fucking trench coat to remind the brothers of his annoying angelic existence, Bobby decided they could all use a break. Balthazar was dead, and so was Raphael. Pretty much all the angels that mattered were gone, blown sky high or backstabbed. Whatever terminology you wanted to use, as long as it equated to dead. So spirits had been pretty damn low lately. Sam and Dean were arguing more. Sam claimed Dean was the one being moody, but the fucking princess, ‘cos that was exactly what Sam was, was the one acting like a bitch. Not Dean, no sir. Bobby had as much as he could stand, which had been a lot, Dean had to give the guy a little bit of credit at least. He pushed them out the door after a week of nonstop bickering.“Why don’t you boys take a break for a little while?” Which actually meant far from me as possible. “Come back with your heads on straight.” Again maybe when you come back you won’t act like an old married couple, something else had been implied. Dean still stood firm that it was Sam’s fault, the bitch. Sam, at the time, had asked, “A break where exactly?”There’d been a long pause, then the magic, last words, “Your actor buddies. Why don’t you boys pay them a visit?”Now here they were at some lousy motel in a backwater town in Idaho. “Alright. So this is it I guess,” Dean said, rubbing his hands together and looking at his brother anxiously.“Yeah. Think they’ll be surprised to see us again?”Dean laughed. “Oh they’ll definitely be surprised all right.” With a final look, they leapt through the window. NOW “Damn it! Sam? Where’d you go now?” Looking back on it now, Dean should have realized by now what seemed like a perfectly good idea was usually only a perfectly good idea if your last name wasn’t Winchester and your first name wasn’t either Sam or Dean because when did anything go their way…ever? He shouldn’t have come here. To this place. Whatever it was. Jensen Ackles said something about a ‘convention’, something like that. But damn had Dean been curious. Sam had been too, actually probably more so than Dean because the little fucker pulled his ‘puppy dog eyes’ out when Dean hesitated. Dean had been on the verge of losing his mind when Jared Padalecki waltz right in, took one look at the scene, demanded to know what the hell was going on, then once gotten filled in by Jensen ‘Traitor’ Ackles proceeded to raise the ‘puppy dog eyes’ megawatts into a full blown supernova. Dean didn’t stand a freaking chance.Clone-Dean, a brilliant nickname Dean came up with upon eying the scrawny kid with the cool hairdo and leather jacket, walked past Dean for a third time eying him like some cool new toy, one of those awesome model cars maybe. It was getting annoying because Dean was as good as lost, this place was jammed pack and Sam was nowhere to be seen, and dammit if the guy wanted to talk to Dean, just fucking do it already. Dean had only been to one ‘Supernatural’ convention in his lifetime, and that was with Chuck and it was definitely different, there were a hell of a lot more chicks here. And people apparently didn’t just dress up as him or Sam or hell Bobby or Cas.Dean could have sworn he saw Darth Vader pass by. Bizarre. “Oh thank god, Jensen? I been looking all over for you.” Oh god they were looking for his shitty doppelganger? Maybe if he ignored the guy…a beefy hand lay on his shoulder. Fuck.Dean spun around, a fake smile plastered on his face. “How can I help you...uh, Cliff?”“You’re up with Misha. Remember?”“Am I?” Misha the Cas wannabe. Oh he definitely remembered the prick, could hardly forget the dude who messed up the interrogation. They always did say payback was a bitch, not as much as Fate but pretty dang close if you asked Dean. “Never mind. I just remembered. Lead the way, big guy.”Cliff gave him an odd look, then headed to the back. He paused at the double doors as Dean weaved through the crowd, nearly tripping on a few guys on the way. “Fucking watch it, man,” he grumbled as he caught himself on some jackass’ cape. The guy just stared at him like it was his fault it was flapping a few feet behind the guy waiting for people to trip over it. Lousiest ‘Batman’ he ever seen anyway, he wasn’t even wearing the mask.“You feeling okay, Jensen?” Cliff asked as he approached.Dean gritted his teeth and nodded. The walked down the hall and turned the corner. Cliff opened the nearest door and Dean stepped into a large auditorium. Chairs lined up in rows in front of a large stage. Misha was already there with a few other people. Dean squinted and felt his eyes nearly pop. Was that…Balthazar? Or the actor or whatever.Misha looked up. “Oh dude, hey!” He motioned for Dean to join the men on stage.With some reluctance, Dean jogged over. The guy who played Bobby Singer was lounging on the farthest chair, next to him sat, oh god, was that Lucifer? Balthazar’s actor stood next to Misha with a crooked grin. Jesus. Dean was way out of his depths here.“Thought it was just us,” he said to Misha. All four pairs of eyes looked up at him, Dean gulped. “Uh, Mish, can I talk to you over there…privately?”Misha furrowed his brows together, shrugged, and Dean took that as a ‘yes’, quickly dragging the guy to the darkest corner he could find. He let go and wiped his suddenly sweaty hands on his jeans. Misha looked at him for a moment before understanding dawned on him. “You’re not Jensen, are you?”Dean shook his head trying to keep himself together, not a time to freak. “My dop…actor, uh, he said he wanted me to cover him for the first half, then we’d switch, said he’d watch over Sammy for me in the meantime. Him and Jared that is. Atleast that’s what he said. They were just with me but then I lost them in the crowd. Fuck.”Misha held out his hands in a placating gesture. “Chill. I’m sure Sam’s fine. Jensen and Jared, they may act a lot like oversized children sometimes, but they’re responsible…kinda. Just. Man. What are we gonna do about this though?” He let out a small sigh as he considered their current situation. Dean had no idea why Ackles wanted to play hooky. It couldn’t be as bad as the time at Chuck’s. Actually so far as Dean has seen, it was a ton better. The place was crawling with geeks and chicks, hot chicks in skimpy outfits or with cat ears and tails like in those sick anime pornos Dean sometimes liked to watch. Dude it was a guy’s wet dream come true. Paradise on earth at last.A couple people came into the auditorium as Misha went over the rules to Dean. It seemed easy enough, he didn’t get why Misha was so worried about Dean screwing it to hell, wasn’t like he was some kind of idiot. “Look, just…act natural. No wait, god, I don’t know, man. Be yourself, or opposite of yourself. Yeah Jensen’s like the opposite of you, so just be the opposite of you.” Oh come on. Dean waved him off. He got this. Got this in the damn bag. They walked back to the center of the stage as the room started to fill. Dean was impressed, apparently ‘Supernatural’ was more popular here, the chairs filled real quick.“Leave the questions to me or them,” Misha whispered into his ear.Dean had no intentions on obeying that particular rule and if Misha didn’t like it, well, fucking tough. He marched over to grab a mic and faced the audience with a brilliant smile. He could see fucking swoons in the crowd of females already. God Dean was good. He cleared his throat into the silence and said, “Hello ladies and…gent! Welcome to the 2013 Supernatural convention here in Chicago. My name is D-Jensen Ackles but you already know that.” He paused, hearing some chuckles in the crowd. Dean was on fire, on a freaking roll. “Haha, what are you? Some talk show host?” Misha asked from behind him. He got laughs from the crowd as Dean froze. He turned to see Misha with the mic pressed to his lips, a smirk on his lips, eyes daring him to take up on the challenge. “Come on, man, it’s a convention. Relax. So how’ve you fans been? Enjoying yourselves tonight?” A roar of applause and shouts and whistles from the audience. Dean heard a high pitched, “I’d enjoy myself better if you two would just kiss already!” from the far back. He looked around in confusion as a few people shouted their agreements. Which two did they want kissing? A somewhat awkward silence descended after those comments and it suddenly dawned on Dean when he noticed a few women in the front row look expectantly at him and Misha. He stumbled a step back as Balthazar’s actor came up to stand beside him. He slung an arm around Dean and smiled lazily at the crowd.“Please, why would you want those amateurs when you have real stars like me and Mark here? We all know people come to watch for Balthazar and good ol’ Luci, am I right?” Balthazar’s actor said gaining a ripple of laughter and cheers. Dean never realized how easy it was to appease the crowd. Wow he bet he could say anything and they would still cheer like it was the best thing on the entire planet.They continued to joke and take ribs at each other for the audience’s benefit for another few minutes, then Misha announced with some reluctance they had to start on questions or they would never get there. It seemed at least a quarter of the population holed up in the room wanted the joking to continue on, maybe last until the end of the panel. Dean wasn’t sure to be relieved or not when people lined up to the mics. It was weird standing up here with not only Misha but also Balthazar, no wait, his actor, and Lucifer...er, that guy’s actor too. Not actual angels.Dean had come to learn quite a few things so far in this experience. One was that Misha was crazy. Two, Balthazar’s actor was way too flirty. Three, Lucifer’s actor definitely didn’t act like Lucifer, in fact he must be the polar opposite and Dean wasn’t sure how he even landed the part. Four, Jim Beaver was probably the most normal person on stage. And last but definitely not least, Supernatural fans were crazier than Misha. Dean was way out of his element here, he’d realized about fifteen minutes in.“I have a question for Jensen,” a woman said from the right. Dean had to keep reminding himself to answer to his actor’s name. He zoned out the first time and people gave him weird looks for it. God, he was painting Ackles out to be a stoner or something at this rate. “What do you think about your relationship with Cas?” And fuck, how many times has he already answered that question by now? This was almost as worse as finding out the fans shipped ‘Wincest’—according to Sam, that was pairing him and Dean up in a romantic relationship. Now he was getting asked about him and Cas AND him and Sam. It was getting ridiculous now and he intended to ignore it but apparently that was considered rude and every time he tried to, Misha would try to butt in with his own answer, all casual and a gleam in his eyes Dean didn’t quite trust.“Uh, what do you mean ‘relationship’? He’s an angel, you know? He rebelled against heaven for us…I mean, for humanity, for Dean and Sam.” Dean thought that was a good enough answer.“I mean, not like angel to human. What if he, you know, lost his grace?”“Come again?”“If he was human, how do you think it will affect his relationship with Dean?”Dean frowned as he thought of it. Cas was dead already so it didn’t matter but apparently the show wasn’t there quite yet, or at least it didn’t air and so the fans didn’t know. “Like he turned full on human?”The woman at the mic nodded. “Yeah.”Well he’d be pretty damn useless then. If he was still alive and had no mojo or whatever. “I dunno, I guess nothing would really change except he’d be kinda useless or whatever, I…Dean would probably think of him more as a baby in a trench coat. I mean angel mojo’s pretty useful stuff.” That should satisfy the fans. Dean was pleased with the answer because it was completely true. But the woman just nodded thanks and left, kind of glum. Dean frowned, resisting the urge to scowl. Because seriously, what was with these people? THEN “You good and packed yet, Padalecki?” Jensen shouted from the stairs. “Come on! Cliff’s waiting for us outside.”“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming. Gotta wait for Gen to pack her stuff, man. You know how these things work.”Jensen rolled his eyes even though he knew Jared couldn’t see it. A moment later Jared appeared at the top of the stairs holding two suitcases, one in each hands. Jesus with the way the guy was packing it was like they were going on vacation instead of an annual convention. He took out a pair of shades and put them on, posing like he was James Bond as he grinned down at Jensen. “Let’s go,” Jared said. “Gen’s gonna meet up with us later.”Jensen said nothing as he followed out to the van. As they got into the backseat, Cliff revving the engine, the luggage all in the back, Jensen said, “That Gen’s stuff back there?”Jared nodded as he took off the shades and put them into the front pocket of his navy blue fleece jacket. He wore a simple button up underneath and regular jeans. Jared liked going to these things casual unlike Jensen in his collar button up and neck tie. “Just about. I only brought a couple change of clothes but god, it’s like women just like to bring the whole fucking wardrobe with them, you know?”Jensen nodded solemnly, figuring for a change he could actually relate with Padalecki. “I get you. Danni tends to pack a whole bunch of makeup stuff no matter where we go,” he said as he leaned back comfortably in his seat. They got to the airport in only a few hours and from Vancouver, they flew down to Chicago, Illinois. Jensen slept pretty much the whole trip.“Dude, come on. Wake up. It’s time to get off now,” Jared hissed into his ear.Jensen groaned and shrugged him off. He opened a groggy eye to see Jared looming over him. “We there yet?”Jared nodded.“Okay, okay. Up. I’m getting up.”“Good.” Jared watched as he fumbled for the seatbelt and helped him stand up. Jensen stretched, hearing his bones creak. Wincing, the two men were the last to leave the plane. They quickly made their way through the airport and caught up with Cliff to claim their bags.The drive to the hotel was long and silent and Jensen found himself slumping against the passenger window taking in blurred buildings and lights and cars. Another boring event, he found himself thinking. It wasn’t that Jensen disliked conventions, in fact he loved them. It was fun talking with the fans, seeing them in awesome getups he wouldn’t normally see just walking down a street in any normal circumstance. It was just…what was the word? It just got old after a while. Sometimes he found himself wishing he could walk in drunk so he didn’t have to fidget in the chairs and wait for the session to be over. Actually, he did do a panel drunk before. Couldn’t remember much of the detail now but he did remember the manager that set it up getting mad at him when he tried to kiss one of the fans in the audience. He thought she was that one chick from the bar that had just been right across the street. Turned out alcohol makes a person not just numb and forgetful, but also completely stupid.So okay getting drunk would be a dumb idea. But Jensen couldn’t help it if he found the conventions a little on the…boring side. Getting asked the same questions by different people all time, there was only so much a man could take before he completely combusted.It came to no surprise that they were staying at a high quality hotel. Fame did come with its benefits, one being money. Unlike the Winchester brothers they played on TV, Jared and Jensen didn’t need to worry about finances. Jensen flopped backwards on the king size bed. The sheets were white and clean, the mattress comfortable, thought a little on the bouncy side. Jared opened the mini fridge in the kitchen and took out a couple bottles of Bud Light, tossed one over to Jensen before settling on the edge of the second bed.“So,” Jared started, opening the bottle easily. “What’s up with you lately?”Jensen shrugged as he chugged half the bottle in one sitting. “Nothing. Why?”“Well I mean…something must be going on. Last convention we were at? Dude you were freaking drunk.”Jensen shrugged again, setting the beer on the floor. “So what? We get drunk all the time.”“No, man, I mean you came into the convention drunk. And then you tried to make out with a fan, who happened to be sixteen,” Jared said.Jesus Christ. He definitely didn’t remember that. She was sixteen? No wonder that one guy had gotten furious with him, the older 'boyfriend' actually being the 'father' made a hell of a lot more sense now. He swallowed. “Was she?”“Yeah. You’re lucky Cliff got him to somehow back off with the charge. He also gotten a hold of all the videos people took of the incident so it didn’t circulate the web. Dude, you’ve been off your game for a while now,” Jared pressed looking slightly worried.Jensen ran a shaky hand through his hair and huffed out a frustrated sigh. “Dude, I dunno. It’s just…these conventions, have they been fun to you lately?”Jared raised an eyebrow. “Uh, dude, yeah. I mean, come on, we’re hanging with our fans. And you and me, we’ve been kinda on a roll. I got this email, like, a week ago, claimed it was from someone who went to our last convention and she said…well she said that we seem closer, and it shows, like we talk and joke and smile with each other more and apparently that’s more appealing for the fans to watch than just us answering their questions.”“Huh.” Jensen tried to digest the new information. He never thought much of his new relationship with Jared. It had just happened…since that night they decided to get drunk. He swallowed again, trying to erase that one stray thought. “Well glad the fans are finally happy,” he muttered and took another swig of beer.Jared eyed him cautiously. “Think one bottle will do it for today. I’m tired, man. Might go to bed early today.”“Yeah. Okay,” Jensen said as he got up to go to the bathroom. He locked the door behind him and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He looked tired, bags under his eyes like he hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in a while, which he hadn’t, not really. Jensen rubbed a hand over his face. He reached to turn the faucet. Then out of nowhere, a bright light emitted from the mirror. Jensen had just enough time to squeeze his eyes closed as two grown men tumbled out to land on top of him.“Shit. Sammy, you okay?”“Ow. Ow. That’s my arm, Dean.” NOW Sam had to admit, this was a lot more fun than he thought it would be. He thought it would be like the time with Chuck and his books, the one where they had been tricked to attend by none other than Becky whom had this huge crush on Sam. It had been annoying back then because Chuck had been writing their life story without their permission, and plus in Dean and Sam’s world, they couldn’t exactly afford for the truth, even if it was written to be fiction, to get out. Here, here it was different. It was Jensen and Jared’s life, their story, their show. They lived in a world with no monsters, or at least the ones he and Dean hunted. While it annoyed Sam still to be thought of as fiction, he couldn’t bring himself to fully hate a world like this. And to be honest, it was a nice break away from a dead Cas, and Leviathans running rampant.Currently he was standing in the back of the line. He blamed Jared and Jensen, the two tag teamed into what he was about to do. He looked over to the stage as his brother seemed to struggle with another question. This time it was about what his take was on Wincest. Sam rolled his eyes; so original, these people. It seemed the more serious questions were always to the other actors like Jim or the guy who played Lucifer, Misha called him Mark or something. And apparently Balthazar’s actor was named Sebastian. Sam wrinkled his nose. It was weird to hear angels with such…well regular names. Sam snuck behind some people and managed to weasel his way to the front. Dean’s eyes bulged when he saw him, but Misha just grinned looking like he wanted to burst into laughter.Sam licked his lips, then looked down at the piece of paper he had clutched in his hands. “So, Jensen, in the episode ‘The French Mistake’, what do you think happened to Jensen and Jared?”“Uhhh.”“Like where do you think they went?” Sam pressed, biting his lip to keep from laughing. There were some murmurs in the crowd, fans had probably wondered about that episode since it had first been released. It was funny that only a select people actually knew the truth, Sam mused quietly to himself.Dean cleared his throat and squinted down at him. “I, uh, I’m not sure. I guess it’s left to the fans’ interpretation.” He gave a nonchalant shrug as he headed down the stairs, the panel coming to a close already. “You know, we only got to see one side of the story. For all we know, maybe they’d been dragged off into the Winchesters’ world.”Sam thought about that and nodded as they headed out together, leaving a somewhat flummoxed audience. “Dude, seriously, Sammy? You got to ask your big brother any question in the world and you came up with that?”Sam shrugged. “Hey. You should’ve seen Misha’s face. He looked like the world was gonna end.”Dean smirked and nudged Sam in the rib. “Dude, we should go to more conventions.” He looked over at a girl in a rather skimpy swimsuit and whistled appreciatively. Sam cuffed him on the back of the head. “Ow!”“Didn’t know these were your kind of thing, Dean,” Sam said.Dean grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “Hot chicks are my thing, and have you seen this place? Crawling with hot chicks.”
1043916	Crash and Burn	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Bård Ylvisåker, Vegard Ylvisåker", "Fandom": "Ylvis", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by QueensJenn (rocketxsurgeon)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-11-14T00:00:00", "words": "1,316", "Additional Tags": "Panic Attacks, Anxiety, Pranks, Brotherly feels", "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 }	Bård thinks the crash of the 15 million NOK sculpture falling to the floor will haunt his nightmares for the rest of his life. It only takes few seconds, but it feels like a million years; the statue falls then there’s nothing, nothing they can do, it’s done, it’s over, it’s too late, everything is ruined. He doesn’t remember being rushed backstage, but suddenly he’s there, and everyone is talking in hushed, tense voices, and he doesn’t know what to do. “-who the fuck joked with the strings--” “--have to do something--” “-oh fuck it’s the artist--” He presses himself flat against the wall and tries his best to look calm; like if they can’t see how fast and shallow his breath is or how hard his hands are shaking, they’ll get through this somehow. He catches Vegard’s eye and then looks away. For once, this isn’t something his big brother can fix. (Besides, Vegard looks like he’s about to throw up and fucking hell that’s the last thing they need, but he’s prone to it, he’s never handled stress well, so it could happen and--) “You need to go out there and say something. Entertain the people while we figure something out.” Fuck. He thinks he’d rather throw himself off the platform. (You wanted this, the little voice inside his head reminds him. You wanted this life). Bård swallows. “Do we play this as serious, or a joke or what?” “It’s not a joke!” roars the artist, his howl of anguish cutting through Bård’s already-raw nerves like a fucking chainsaw. “It’s not a joke!” And now he does look to Vegard, mouthing help me. Vegard only nods toward the stage, his expression impassive, and it takes everything Bård has to climb the steps. “Just say something,” Vegard mutters. You say something, Bård wants to shoot back but it’s not the time, they’re already on stage and everyone is staring at them, a mixture of confusion and embarrassment and (he’s quite sure) hate in their eyes. The broken pieces of the sculpture are still lying sadly on the floor. They could have at least swept it up, he thinks wildly. “S-sometimes, things don’t always go as planned.” Is he speaking? He thinks he’s speaking, but he doesn’t recognize his own voice. “We’ll be back in two minutes.” Then it’s back offstage again, and he doesn’t know how he’s going to get back out again, but Vegard is already calling for the guitar, and shoves it roughly over Bård’s shoulders. “Sondre Lerche,” he says. “What?” “We’re doing Sondre Lerche. Get out there.” Bård wants to protest, wants to say that he can’t sing, that he can’t possibly play because his hands are fucking numb but this is showbiz, this is what they chose, there’s no way out. (Except there is, it’s all over now, they’re the laughing stock, there’s no coming back from this) Vegard is doing the introduction, and for a moment, Bård hates him. Somehow his hands are on the guitar and they find the chords by muscle memory alone because he can’t even remember how the song starts, and then there’s a commotion and all he can think is oh fuck, not again before suddenly they’re being hugged and everyone is laughing and why is everyone laughing? A prank. It was all a prank. Someone is shoving flowers into his hand and he pastes a grin on his face (he’s sure it must look a little manic; he thinks his face might crack and break). He forces himself to laugh, yes, yes, very funny, you got us good. A prank. ~~~ Bård doesn’t remember the rest of the show. He thinks it went well. It probably did. It’s over and he’s sitting in the dressing room, and he knows he needs to get changed and get out to the lobby, but undressing is too much work and standing up is too much work and even thinking is too much work, so he’ll just sit here forever, thank you very much. Crash. The 15 million NOK sculpture falls to the floor, shattering into a million pieces. “Bård?” Crash. The audience goes silent, staring up at them in shock “Bård? You in here?” Crash. The artist runs onto the stage in hysterics “Bård?” Crash. It’s over, it’s all over, they’re done --” “Bård!” He blinks. Vegard is standing in front of him, eyebrow raised. “Crash?” he whispers, and throws his arms around his brother’s waist, resting his head on his stomach. He’s shaking now, all over, and there’s something bubbling up in the back of his throat that might be a scream or it might be tears, he doesn’t even know anymore. Vegard sighs. “It’s okay. It was just a prank. Everything’s okay.” “It wasn’t funny,” Bård whispers, and oh fuck, those are tears, and suddenly he’s sobbing into his brother’s chest like a baby and no matter what he does, he can’t seem to stop. “It wasn’t funny,” he repeats, over and over, as if that makes it any better. “I know it wasn’t.” He can feel Vegard’s hands smoothing and stroking his hair, and somehow that makes it worse. “It was fucking stupid, and cruel, and unfunny. But we have to get dressed, they’re expecting us out there. We have to go out there and laugh as if it’s the funniest thing that’s ever happened to us.” The sound Bård makes as all the air rushes out of his lungs is somewhere between a squeak and a sob and under different circumstances, it really would be funny. “No, no no,” he begs. “I can’t go out there, don’t make me go out there.” Vegard crouches down and just lets Bård cling to him as tight as he can, like a drowning man clinging to a life preserver as he shakes and cries and nearly hyperventilates, making soft, soothing noises and rubbing his back in slow, wide circles until the quiet chant of “no, no, no,” tapers off and he goes limp. “It’s okay,” Vegard says at last. “It’s over now. It was just a prank.” “It wasn’t funny.” “I know.” “I don’t want to do this anymore.” Bård’s voice is so soft, Vegard has to strain to hear it. “I’m tired, Vegard. I’m so tired.” At this, he pulls away and Vegard is struck by how haggard he looks. They’ve been working almost non-stop for years, clawing their way to the top by sheer volume; he can’t remember a time went they weren’t filming or touring or performing. They’ve taken more than their fair share of hits for what they have, both professionally and personally. Tonight, they’d almost seen it all come crashing down. Literally. The prank was meant to humiliate them. It was so much worse. But maybe it threw some things into sharp relief as well. “We’ll take a break,” Vegard says. “Okay? We’ll take a holiday. We’ll go away somewhere no one knows who we are.” Bård sniffs. “Where’s that?” “Pretty much anywhere that isn’t Norway,” Vegard answers, laughing slightly. Fuck, it feels good to laugh. “Canada. America. Fucking New Zealand, it doesn’t matter. How does that sound?” Bård sits back. Sniffs again. Nods. “Good. Now get dressed. Wash your face.” He brushes a few stray tears off Bård’s face with his thumb. “Don’t let them see you cry.” “I won’t. Vegard?” “Hm?” “Thanks.” He hugs him again and he can’t remember the last time they hugged, that they acted as brothers and not just colleagues, and he wishes it would happen more often but not like this, never like this. “And sorry.” “Sorry?”“For...freaking out.” “If you can’t freak out in front of me, who can you freak out in front of, hm?” Vegard chuckles softly. He stands up, and presses a gentle kiss to Bård’s forehead. “I’ll wait for you outside. Get changed.” And after a few minutes, he does.
1007190	Dream Genie	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, Tobias Budge, Franklyn Froideveaux, Beverly Katz, Winston", "Fandom": "Hannibal (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by extremelyperturbed", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-10-17T00:00:00", "words": "3,587", "Additional Tags": "Horror, Romance comedy tropes, canonical character deaths, alternative universe, black magic", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Tobias Budge & Hannibal Lecter, Franklyn Froideveaux & Tobias Budge, Alana Bloom & Will Graham", "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 }	“Oh, hey, Winston, what did you dig up?” said Will as he saw Winston on the porch with dirt on his paws and what appeared to be gravy boat with a lid on it next to him. Will picked it up and took it inside. He took a dish towel and wiped it clean. As he did so, smoke poured out of it. He tried to plug it up with his towel but it was in vain.The smoke settled and solidified into the form of a man. “I am Hannibal, genie of the magic lamp. I am here to serve you.” Hannibal appeared to be a tall, well-dressed man with a vaguely European accent.Will pulled out a gun then said, “Who are you really?” Hannibal looked rather disappointed at his disbelief. “I can prove that I am a genie. Make a wish, any wish.”Will looked rather skeptical and said, “I’d like breakfast.”“I was expecting something a trifle more ambitious but . . .“ Hannibal snapped his fingers. There was a place setting as well as a glass of orange juice, a square of coffee cake with streusel topping and coffee on Will‘s dining table. Will blinked, put his gun away then sat down at the table. “Is there something else that you would like instead?” said Hannibal. “Aren’t you going to sit down and have some as well?” Will motioned for him to sit down opposite him. Hannibal looked surprised in a pleased way. “I will if it makes you feel better.” Hannibal created a place setting for himself as well as giving himself an identical breakfast. “So, you’re a genie?” said Will.“How astute of you to notice.”“Very funny. For all I know, you’re just a very good magician,” said Will before he cautiously took a bite then smiled. “And a very good cook.”“I assure you that I am what I say I am.” “How many wishes do I have?”“You are not limited to three. I am able to grant a countless number of wishes, however . . .”“However?”“There are limits to my powers. Anything requiring changing the entire world is beyond me. I can not, for example, make you ruler of the world. I can give you the tools necessary to become one. I can make you wealthier, stronger, more charismatic. If you are suffering a fatal illness or progressively debilitating condition, I can cure you of that. If there is someone you want to suffer, nothing is off the table.” He did not tell Will, however, that certain wishes required payment of a sort.“Wow, that’s a lot.”“So, what do you wish?” Hannibal smiled, anticipating something selfish.“What do you think I should wish?”Hannibal found himself at a loss for words. “You are asking for my advice?” All of his previous masters had just launched into a long laundry list of wants and desires to be sated.“You must have had other masters, who wished all sorts of things. A lot of those wishes must have been terrible so I’d like to know what I shouldn’t wish for.”“It’s not really my place to advise.”“I don’t have to wish right away, do I?”“No, you don’t.”After they had breakfast and Hannibal had the dirty plates disappear, Will said, “Do you live in your lamp or do you want to use the guest room?”“I can stay in the guest room but I remain connected to the lamp. When you need me, rub it and I will appear.”* Sitting in the guest room he had made over to his liking, Hannibal frowned. Something must have gone wrong. The lamp was supposed to be attracted to a soul with a core of darkness, someone that would instantly wish for selfish and cruel things that would allow him to latch onto their soul and consume it piece by piece. A request for breakfast would merely make his master want to take a short nap without tapping into his life reserves, at most.His thoughts were interrupted by a groan coming from his master’s room. He quietly padded in and found Will to be asleep but seemingly wrapped up in a nightmare. He put his hand on Will’s forehead and saw images of mutilated bodies, blood spray and Will committing the murders. Delicious, thought Hannibal. He quietly took the dream, turned it into a small chocolate truffle and savored it. * “Hannibal.”“Tobias,” said Hannibal as he met an old acquaintance for high tea at a tea shop in downtown Baltimore. They sat down in a corner they had reserved.“You have acquired a new target?”“Yes, and you?”“I have,” said Tobias with a smile. “He’s a weak, neurotic man with little to recommend him but I believe that I can jolly him into shape before I consume his soul and take his place, unbound by commands. I’ve already granted his wish of becoming wealthy and entering high society. I am sure that at any moment, he will ask for another wish like beauty or some skill that he currently lacks.” “Mine dreams of murder and violence. His dreams are the best I’ve ever tasted.”“I’m intrigued. What has he wished for?”“Nothing much as of yet. When he first saw me, he treated me with much suspicion, even pointed a weapon at me.” “Sounds entertaining. I‘m afraid the only enjoyment I will get from Franklyn will be when I reveal myself shortly before his inevitable doom. I know, at least, that he will be utterly terrified. That should be good for a few chuckles.”* As they sat at a dinner that he conjured up, Hannibal said to Will, “I hope you know that you don’t need to keep any secrets from me. I have heard and seen everything. You needn’t be shy about asking for anything. What are your hobbies?”Will shrugged. “I fish and take in strays.”Hannibal found those two activities rather unpromising as avenues to self-destruction. Will did not have a Captain Ahab type obsession and being a pet owner was usually a life affirming activity. “Your work?”“I usually teach at the FBI academy but sometimes I go to murder scenes, look at the evidence and do some profiling.”Ah, thought Hannibal. “Profiling?”“I get a mental image of what the murderer might be like. I put myself in their place and am able to get a feel for what they’re thinking and feeling. It‘s a very exhausting process.”“I sometimes hear you say unusual things while sleeping.”“I hope I wasn’t disturbing you.” “I was a little alarmed.”“My work sometimes give me nightmares but ever since you’ve been here, I’ve had less of them. Is that your doing?”“Yes.”Will smiled at him in a way that made Hannibal feel something he found hard to recognize. “Thank you.”“You’re most welcome.“ Hannibal decided not to tell Will that he had done it for selfish reasons but basked in his gratitude. * “I have to go on a trip,” said Will as he packed his briefcase. “Another murder?” said Hannibal.Will made a face. “Yeah, another murder. I can’t really discuss specifics. But while I’m gone, can you make sure the dogs are fed and taken care of?”“Of course.”“Are you going to be OK?”“I am a powerful genie,” said Hannibal.“Yeah, that’s right.”Once Will had driven off, Hannibal scowled. How was he going to take over Will and eat his soul if he couldn’t tempt him to wish for something horrible? While there was darkness inside of Will, his soul acted like a containment field that kept it from corrupting the rest of him. At least, I’ll have some tasty dreams to eat when he comes back, he thought grumpily. * “Tobias,” said Hannibal as they met for lunch at a steakhouse.“Hannibal,” said Tobias as he sat down. “How are things going?”“I have fulfilled another wish. Franklyn is now four inches taller and a lot more muscular. He’s taken another step towards his doom. And how about your project?”“He has not made a wish yet,” said Hannibal.Tobias chuckled, which made Hannibal grind his teeth. “You have to get a bit more creative. If he’s not ambitious nor greedy, there must be something he wants more than anything else in the world. Is there a woman perhaps? Or a man?”“I haven’t heard him talk of anybody but I will ask him if there is someone he feels is out of reach.” For some reason, this idea did not make him happy and not simply because Tobias had been the one to come up with it. Tobias scowled. “I’m sorry but Franklyn is summoning me . . . again.”“I wish you luck.” Not really, thought Hannibal as Tobias discreetly disappeared.* Will came back home after being gone for ten days. “How was your trip?” said Hannibal.“Horrible,” said Will. “You can‘t resurrect the dead, can you?”“No, that’s something I can’t do. Unfortunately, that‘s a power that God kept for himself.”“Just thought I’d ask.”Hannibal put his hand on Will’s shoulder, then pulled him in for a hug. “You know that I am always here for you.” He was surprised when Will wrapped his arms around him in return and that he liked it. “Is there anything you want to tell me about it?”“It’s not the type of thing I want to share with people.”“I’m not a person. I’m your genie.” “Not right now but thank you.”* “You killed a man,” said Hannibal over breakfast. He had sat next to Will’s bed during the night, put his hand on his forehead and seen a dream where a man was shot repeatedly and stags were impaling people on their horns and tornadoes made of blood erupted from the ground. He had never had a master with that kind of imagination. Most masters has the usual anxiety dreams of having to take a test while naked or being late to an interview or self-indulgent harem orgy dreams. These were things suffused with dread and surrealistic imagery and he enjoyed them immensely.“You got that from my dreams?” said Will, putting down his fork.“Yes . . . And from that crime titillation website by your most loathed nemesis . . .” Hannibal said, referring to Freddie Lounds’ tabloid news site.“Oh, her,” groaned Will. Hannibal had often heard Will grumbling about her and her disdain for both privacy and keeping crime scenes clean of contamination. “I could make her disappear. Poof!”Will laughed. “So very tempting but no.”“How about your boss, Jack? I could seal his mouth.”Will hesitated but shook his head. “He’s an asshole but I don’t want to do anything to him.”“What’s the point of having me around if you don’t want to use me!”Will blinked at the vehemence in Hannibal’s voice. “Do you want to leave? Do you want me to set you free?”Ah, thought Hannibal, now I have to backpedal. “No, it’s just that I don’t know how I can be of service to you if you won’t allow me to help you.” “You’re helping just by being here. Now if you want someone who‘ll wish to his heart‘s content, Jack is your guy. He‘d love to have someone he could wish would solve all his problem cases for him and make him look good. Do you want me to introduce you to him?”Jack Crawford did sound like a much more straight forward person that he could easily toy with. And Jack already had a position of power and respect . . . All he’d have to do is ask Will to hand Jack his lamp and then . . . be bored and resentful as he was treated like a tool or a weapon. Hannibal put his hand on top of Will’s. “No, I have no desire to meet him nor to leave you. I want to be of use to you.”Will sighed before he said, “The man I killed was trying to kill his daughter so I shot him. Even though I had to, it still felt like the worst thing in the world . . . I’m just not in the mood to do anything to anybody else right now.”“I apologize.”* “I’m going on a date next Saturday.”“A date?” said Hannibal as he was about to go to the matinee showing of Lucia di Lammermoor at the Lyric Opera House in Baltimore. Unlike other masters, Will didn’t care what Hannibal did during his free time. Other masters had demanded that he be constantly available to prop up their ego and put out fires they themselves created or go on paranoid rants if he didn‘t instantly appear when summoned. “Why so surprised?” Will pouted. “I have never heard you mention a word about your romantic life.”“That’s because it’s been non-existent for the past year. So I‘m hoping this one works out.”Hannibal was about to snap his fingers to go to his opera when he paused and said, “I don’t understand why you would have any problems in that regard. You’re an attractive man in many ways.” He was not being disingenuous. He felt Will was a handsome man with a fascinating mind even if he was unpolished in some ways. Will ducked his head in embarrassment at the compliment. “My job is not exactly a fount of pleasant conversation material. Being an owner of six dogs isn’t exactly date magnet material either. I’m not a social person so I wouldn’t be good for someone who loves parties and being with friends. Being with me has some major drawbacks.”“You sound lonely.”Will gave him a smile. “Not so much, now that you’re here. I’m keeping you from your opera. You should go.”At the opera, Hannibal found himself distracted. Perhaps, he thought, I should have invited him to go with me.*Hannibal briefly considered helping Will prepare for the date but decided not to even though he thought what Will planned to wear was inappropriate. He also listened quietly to Will describe Alana but offered no advice in regards to what he should do to impress her. After hearing Will chatter excitedly about actually going on a date for the rest of the week, Hannibal was extremely aggravated by the time Will drove off to pick her up for an afternoon of miniature golf and dinner at a Italian restaurant. His aggravation was only slightly lessened when Will came back later that night, looking rather disappointed. “My date with Alana didn’t go so well.”“How so?”“She finds me cute but a little unstable for her tastes. She said she was afraid that she‘d end up analyzing me.”“Isn’t that a bit rude?” said Hannibal.Will shrugged unhappily. “She’s a psychology professor and a consultant.”“You shouldn’t latch on to her simply because she’s the first person in a while to show interest.”“It’s been a long while.”“Do you want to talk about it?”Will shook his head. “I’ll just turn in early. Goodnight.”“Goodnight, Will.”* “I want to ask your advice about a wish,” said Will as they had Sunday brunch. “Oh?” Instead of joy, Hannibal felt a strange sense of dread. He had come to enjoy this routine and whatever this was that he had with Will. While he had known Tobias a long time, their acquaintance had none of the warmth and intimacy between him and Will. “I told you about how Alana turned me down.”“You want to make her like you.” A common enough wish, he thought. “No, I was wondering if you could make me into someone she’d like.”This was precisely the kind of wish Hannibal could use to utterly consume him but he hesitated. “You don’t know what she likes. She may like a type you can’t stand. You may lose your gift. Even if I make you her type, she may still reject you for a myriad of reasons. At least let me find out what she likes before I do something that I might not be able to reverse.”“All right.”* “It’s been a while,” said Tobias as Hannibal met him in a pub. “I suppose it has been.” He hadn’t felt in the mood to listen to Tobias gloating over Franklyn’s downward spiral or his smugness that Will was not in the same kind of tailspin. He had lost his appetite for that kind of conversation.“Franklyn is now feeling as if he has almost everything but now I have to make him worried that he may lose everything if he doesn’t grant me one request.”“So it seems that your project is close to fruition. Though it must be at a steep cost of your power.”“I will get it back and more once he falls completely,” said Tobias. “How about yours?”“I may have found a way. He is interested in a woman who does not want him as he is.”“That makes everything simple.” Tobias frowned. “You do not appear happy about this.”“It’s a stupid, trifling wish,” said Hannibal. “All the more reason he should be destroyed,” sniffed Tobias.Hannibal stood up. “I’m being summoned. I have to go. Enjoy your beer.” In truth, he had not been summoned but he knew the longer he stayed, the more his mood would worsen.* “So, is she hot for Ryan Gosling?” said Will, giving Hannibal a crooked smile, then turned his attention back to the fire in the fireplace. “I neither expected nor wanted the result of my investigation,” said Hannibal as he sat next to Will in front of the fire. “You should know that even if she likes this type of man now, her tastes may change later.”“Just show me.”Hannibal sighed. It had been a long, long time since he had been this embarrassed. “The man she wants is confident, more polished, more of an alpha male. He is worldly, extremely well-educated and has a way with words. He also looks like this.” Hannibal created a holographic model of Alana’s dream man that was a foot tall.Will looked at the model then at Hannibal then back at the model. “He looks a lot like you.”“I know. I am as surprised as you are.” Hannibal made the model disappear.“I can see why she’d prefer you to me,” said Will.Hannibal’s heart skipped a beat at that statement. “Why would you say that?”“I’d choose you in a second.” Then realizing what he had said, Will said, “I mean . . .”“I’m not interested in her, Will. I’m not interested in her at all.” He turned to Will, who for once was looking at him steadily. He slowly leaned over and kissed him. After seeing that Will enjoyed the kiss, he kissed him again and pulled him on his lap. “Are there any genie rules against this?” said Will.“None, whatsoever,” said Hannibal as he began unbuttoning Will's shirt. * Hannibal was at home, waiting for Will to show up when he heard the phone ring. He picked it up. “Hello?”“Is Hannibal there?” said a voice he didn’t recognize.“This is he.”“My name is Beverly Katz and I’m a friend of Will Graham. He’s been shot. It looks like someone mugged him.”“What?” said Hannibal. “Where is he right now?”“He’s at the hospital. Let me give you the address . . .”“You attacked Will,” said Hannibal after he appeared in Franklyn Froideveaux‘s living room, interrupting Tobias and Franklyn‘s argument. He had checked on Will’s condition and once he was sure that he was out of danger, he instantly suspected Tobias of being behind it.“Franklyn attacked Will and he did a piss poor job of it,” sniffed Tobias as he glared at his prey. Despite having been transformed into a tall and muscular man, Franklyn still radiated a sad weakness. “I know you sent him after Will. Why?”“Franklyn wanted me to sleep with him. I only agreed if he would do this for me. As for why I requested this, you are an old friend of mine. I couldn’t bear seeing you become an actual servant to that man! So, I thought, two birds, one stone.”“Tobias Budge, you are not my friend.” Hannibal glared at Franklyn. “As for you . . .” He walked over, put his hands on both sides of the man’s head and twisted his neck then let go so Franklyn fell on the ground dead.Tobias’ nostrils flared. “Do you know how much work and effort and power I put into him? I’m going to kill you.” “Try it.” Tobias tried to summon his power but found only a spark or two. He looked horrified. Hannibal smiled. “Will has asked nothing of me so I still have all my powers. Meanwhile you put most of your powers in an investment that is no longer at your disposal. I‘m afraid that this will be my last lunch with you.“Tobias screamed. ** “Will?” said Hannibal as he sat next to the hospital bed. “Hannibal?” Will opened his eyes. He felt a lot better. The pain medication really works, he thought. “I’ve healed you enough so that you can check out and I’ll finish healing you after we leave the hospital. I just don‘t want you to have to deal with too many questions.” “You look a little shaken up. ”“I had an old friend for lunch but he didn‘t agree with me. However, now that I have processed everything, I feel much better. Now, how about we go home?”The End
1093934	Wish You Were Here	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Katniss Everdeen, Peeta Mellark, Annie Cresta", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by WhatBecomesOfYou", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-12-22T00:00:00", "words": "8,594", "Additional Tags": "Mountains, Snowed In, Huddling For Warmth, Alternate Universe - Outdoors, Vacation, Hunters & Hunting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting", "Relationship": "Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "Hunger Games Holiday Exchange 2013, Everlark", "Fandoms": "Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games (2012), Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Katniss felt the rhythm of the streets traverse her spine as she strode along the sidewalk. She was awash in a sea of black and white and every shade of gray in between.Sometimes, she really hated being an ad executive in the big city. It was as dull and gray as her walking companions' suits. She slung her red messenger bag over her shoulder – the one that held her entire life in the city in it. It had her laptop, and her cell phone, and a change of shoes. Walking in heels to work was a death sentence for her feet, after all. She much preferred her running shoes. But company dress code dictated something else, so she compromised best she could.Besides, who would tell her boss? Annie, one of her best friends? She highly doubted Annie cared that much. Annie was always off thinking about her next great adventure with her boyfriend Finnick, also one of their co-workers – which the depth to which their relationship went was a secret Katniss was helping Annie to hide from Human Resources.Another reason why she doubted Annie would tell a soul about her shoe switcheroo.She looked in the windows of the shops as she passed them by. Oh, how she desired to break free of her monotonous life. She saw sparkly gems and fine electronics for sale, and passed them all by without blinking. These would not help her escape from it all. Maybe she just needed a weekend out of the city.Yes. Maybe she could take all that vacation time she had accrued over the years – where else did she have to go, anyway? She had about three weeks saved up, so she could make a real vacation out of the deal.She was musing about where to go – Finnick would advocate the beach, but he was a swimmer by nature. How he had ended up in a landlocked city like here was something she had never quite understood. But she didn't have a deep desire to tan for three weeks. Or, in her case, burn a deep, scarlet red like the boiled lobsters she apparently shared genetic material with.It was after moments of musing on the affordability of high-end sunscreen in January that she looked up at the next window, and saw a beacon in front of her instead of just a mere display. It was a travel agency, with a display of snow-capped mountains and happy skiers.Of course. The mountains. She could find some cute little cabin to rent for three weeks. It had been quite some time since she'd been to the mountains, probably since before Prim left school. And that had been a while...could it have been when her father was – yeah, that was it. She didn't want to finish that sentence, or have the need to. It had been with her father. That was all there was to that.She thought about the feasibility of it all as she made her way back home.Three weeks in a cozy little mountain cabin? Maybe do a little skiing, or rest in front of a roaring fire as snow melted off her boots?It all sounded so nice.And yet, attainable. “You're doing what?” Annie asked, in a degree of shock. “I – you've never taken a day of vacation in the whole time I've known you. And that's been five years. And I doubt you were living it up in the sun before I got here.”“Maybe that's why I need to start now,” Katniss said. “I've been working so long that I've forgotten how to relax.”“Well -” Annie held out the word longer than was strictly necessary. “Where did you say you were going, again?”“I found a cabin for rent in the mountains,” Katniss said. “They had a last-minute cancellation, so I got it. Lucky me.”“Lucky you indeed. Three weeks in a cabin all by yourself...sure you're not going to find some flannel-and-jeans lumberjack or a fluffy little ski bunny to warm you up at night?” Annie's eyebrows waggled at the suggestion.Katniss let out an audible groan. “You never know. But I'm not going there to find sex, if that's what you're implying. If that was what I wanted, I'd let Finnick hook me up with one of his friends.”Annie nodded and sipped at her water through a straw. “Just throwing out there as a suggestion.”“Suggestion noted.” Annie's “suggestion” rang in her ears as she drove up an inclined road. Driving was something she rarely did, living in the center of the city as she did, so it was a different sensation to be behind the wheel instead of propelling herself on foot. The trees were getting closer together the further she drove, and they were beginning to hang over the road like a canopy. She could barely even see the sun anymore. Was it still out? She couldn't tell. One thing she could tell was that, thanks to the beams on her headlights being extra bright, snow was increasingly accumulating by the side of the road.She gulped and pressed her foot on the accelerator. If she remembered the map she'd printed out right, Cozy Snow Mountain Rentals should be just a little bit further ahead. She didn't dare take her hands off the wheel to check even for a moment, though. She was afraid that if she did, she might lose control and then everything would be horrible.And then she felt her engine just...stop.She pushed the accelerator harder. Nothing. She got out of the car and inspected the wheels. Nothing, but then again, she was so inexperienced with her car that she didn't know what she was looking for. She slid back into the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition.Still nothing.She pounded her fist on the steering wheel, and a piercing blare from her horn sliced through the crisp air.Great. She was stranded with enough provisions to last a day, tops – that's what she got for living in the city and taking advantage of a restaurant or grocery store on almost every corner. Maybe she could fix crackers and cheese into a feast meant for...well, not royalty, but at least for someone to subside on.Maybe she could figure out a way to kill small animals with her car keys if it came down to it. She dimly remembered her father's lessons on building a fire without matches, and once she managed to do that, then she could melt snow and stave off dehydration.She tentatively honked her horn again. Maybe someone would hear her.Throughout the night, she barely slept, but occasionally pressed the horn again.It was roundabout sunrise, although it was difficult for her to see the sun through the thick blanket of trees, when she heard a sharp tap-tap-tap at her window.She tried to push the window down, but it wouldn't go – probably related to whatever caused her car to die – so she opened the door instead. “Hi?” she asked. The tapper was tall, blond, and dressed in a parka and blue jeans.He cleared his throat and looked at her pointedly. “So, you're the person who has been disturbing my peace tonight,” he said. “It's people like you that made me leave the city. Too much noise.”“I, uh...sorry? Yes, that's me, but, uh, my car died. I'm not from here.” She felt the words jumble around in her mouth, almost as though she was completely tongue-tied. She hadn't really expected that.“That much is obvious,” he said. “What are you doing here? You look a little out of place.”“I'm looking for Cozy Snow Mountain Rentals,” she said. She felt her defensive ire building up inside her. How dare he say she looked out of place – even though it was probably true? That was for her to judge. Not someone who hadn't even met her five minutes before.He let out a hollow laugh. “You've been going five miles in the wrong direction.” “Crap.” She bit her lip. She didn't want to show emotion in front of him. If he would just leave her alone, she could wallow alone in her car. But if he left her alone, she might never see another human being again. She looked up at him. “Is there cell phone reception anywhere nearby?”He laughed again. “You're asking the wrong person. I wouldn't know,” he said. “But look where you are. Do you really think so?”She gave a cursory glance of her surroundings. Trees, trees, oh yeah, more trees. And snow. And him. “Not really, no.” God, she felt defeated and deflated, and it probably showed.He softened a bit. “Look, I don't know anything about cars. But I can take you back to my cabin. Maybe later today I can help you back to the main road and find someone who can really help you, maybe call a tow truck or whatever.”“You'd really do that for me?” she asked. Narrowing her eyes, she continued by saying, “Where I'm from, those would be the last words I ever heard.”“We're not in some faceless big city. Out here, we live by a different set of rules. Everyone looks out for each other.”She considered the alternatives to what he was saying. She could stay here and be a wintertime horror story on the news. She could go out to the road herself, and risk getting hopelessly lost, and potentially still a wintertime horror story. Or she could put her trust into a complete stranger and maybe live to laugh about the sotry with Annie over margaritas in a few weeks.She knew which one sounded the most palatable. “You got yourself a deal.”“Grab your stuff and let's go, then,” he said.She grabbed her red messenger bag from the seat next to her and slung it low over her shoulder. Taking her keys out of the ignition, she turned to him. “Okay, ready.”“Before we go,” he said, “I want to be able to put a name to your face. If you're going to be in my cabin, and all.”“Katniss,” she said. “And you are?”“A unique name,” he said. “Peeta. Nice to meet you, Katniss.” He extended his hand to hers and took it within his grasp. Even though he was wearing knit gloves, she could feel a warmth exuding from his touch.“Talk about a unique name,” she said, willing herself not to visibly react to his touch in any way.“Shall we?” he asked, jerking his thumb in a vaguely righthand direction. “My cabin's that way.”She nodded. “Yeah. Show me the way.”Tiny flakes of snow began to fall as they started their trek to his cabin. His cabin was small and sturdy, she observed. It looked a lot like a nicer version of the Lincoln logs cabins that she used to build with Prim. There was a neat white roof – although that may have been because the snow was deeper here than out at the road, obscuring its real colorAs he moved around the tiny kitchen – or, to be more accurate, a small metal oven and a table with two rough-hewn chairs, she looked at the rest of the cabin. Tucked in the corner were pots of various sizes, and she wondered if that was what functioned as his bathroom. On the other side of the cabin was a bed with flannel blankets covering it. An easel stood next to the bed in the corner with a partially-finished painting of an owl in flight on it.He put a small plate in front of her with a generously-portioned slice of bread on it. “You're probably hungry,” he said. “Eat that. Get your energy back.”She bit into the bread and had to bite back a moan at how good it was. There was an explosion of tastes in her mouth – she tasted the faint traces of what might have been walnut, laced with something dimly fruity. “Oh my God, this is amazing,” she said. “Where did you – did you -”“Yeah, that was all me,” he said, shrugging his shoulders and offering her a tentative grin. “My folks owned a bakery when I was a child. They taught me a few things.”“Clearly they taught you well,” she said. “So why do you live out here by yourself if you could be taking the baking world by storm?”“Asking the tough questions, I see,” he said, laughing as he sat down in the chair next to her. “I like that I can hear myself think out here. Well, except when I get interrupted by car horns in the middle of the night.” His tone was not vicious, but instead light, and almost teasing. “Not that I'm complaining. Much.”Neither was she, come to think of it. Yeah, her plans for a relaxing vacation with a roaring fire were likely dashed, but Peeta seemed nice enough, so it wasn't a complete wash.“So what about you?” he asked. “What's a city girl like you doing in the middle of nowhere like this?”She swallowed another bite of bread and focused her gaze on him. “I,” she started to say, “decided that I wanted a break from a city life. At least for a few weeks. Learn to relax.”“And you never anticipated your car dying on you?”“No.” She had to laugh. “I walk everywhere in the city, so I never drive.”“And you don't do things like this often.”Vacations, or trusting people? “Not really,” she said. “This is my first time.”“That makes two of us.”She finished off the slice of bread and looked over at him. “I didn't get much sleep last night,” she said sheepishly. “It's kind of hard to sleep sitting up in my driver's seat.”“My bed's all yours,” Peeta said. “You can rest while I go hunting, maybe catch us dinner.”She nodded and crossed the room to his bed. “Thanks, Peeta,” she said as she laid down and folded the blankets over herself. It felt warm in there, and smelled faintly of musk – which, come to think of it, was something she had caught a whiff of from the man himself.She was asleep before her head hit the pillow. Katniss had never been one of those people with a very good internal clock. So she wasn't sure exactly how much time elapsed while she was asleep. Just that some had, for she woke up and saw Peeta's face looking back at her from across the room. “Good. You're awake,” he said. “I didn't want to disturb you.”“Is something wrong?” She bolted straight up and stared at him wide-eyed. Panic coursed through her veins.“Depends on your definition of 'wrong,'” he said. “Uh, before you say anything else, you should probably look outside.”She went to the door and peeked out. A fresh blanket of snow covered everything. She gingerly put her leg out, only to find that the snow swallowed it almost to her kneecap. “So, what you're saying is that we are pretty much stuck here in your cabin,” she said.“Until the snow melts some, yeah, I wouldn't recommend trekking into town,” he said. “I hope you don't have someone back home waiting for you.”“Not for three more weeks.” Or not at all, depending on how she interpreted his question. “I take it you don't have one of those awesome snowmobiles that can just shoot over the snow?”“I'm very much like you,” he said. “I walk everywhere.”“Even to town?”“Yeah. There's a small town near your mountain rental place. Fisher's Creek. Not much to it, really, but I go in about once a month to restock what I can't get myself.”“Oh.”“It's mostly things to make my breads,” he continued. “I catch my own meat. Which reminds me, I put dinner in the oven before you woke up. Hope roast squirrel sounds good.”Her eyes about welled up with tears at the mention of squirrel. “I haven't had squirrel in a really long time,” she said.“I hope it lives up to your memories then.”She wasn't convinced, and the twisted expression on her face probably gave that away to him, but if he noticed, he didn't say a word about it. He just went back to the stove and tended to something, while she watched aimlessly.A little while later, after she had eaten the last bite of squirrel and finished off the slice of sourdough bread he had given her, she could safely say that she was convinced. It more than lived up to the memory of her father's squirrel. “Very good” she said. “So, what does one do to pass the time up here?”“Generally, I paint after a long day,” he said. “What would you do back in the city?”“I'd work late, or if I wasn't, which is rare, I would go out with my best friend Annie and her boyfriend Finnick.”“Tell me about this Annie and Finnick,” he said. “They sound important.”“Well, we all work at the same advertising agency, Capitol Advertising,” Katniss started. “Annie and I are junior executives, while Finnick's in sales. He's able to sell vodka to a Russian.”“Or bread to a Peeta?”“Or bread to a Peeta,” she said with a laugh. “They're good people, Annie and Finnick. The boss doesn't know they're dating, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him.”He nodded. “Is there anyone else in your life?” he asked.“Well, I'm friends with the girl next door in apartment 11, Rue, but my job keeps me so busy that I don't get to socialize much.”He pursed his lips together. “Okay.” He stayed like that for a moment, almost as if he was pondering her words over, before he snapped out of it. “Well, uh, the bed is yours for whenever you want to sleep.”“I'm not going to kick you out of your own bed! It's big enough for two! Where would you sleep, anyway?” She looked around the cabin, trying to see if there was any hidden bed – which there wasn't anything apparent, anyway.“One of the chairs?” He shrugged.“No. I'm not going to make you give up your soft, warm bed on my account. We can share. I promise I'm warm and don't steal the covers.”“You're not going to stop until I agree, are you?”“You're already going out of your way by letting me stay here in the first place. It's the least I can offer in return.”“Well, okay, if you insist...” It had been a few days since her arrival at the cabin. And Katniss had to admit, she was getting used to the routine. Especially when part of that routine involved waking up next to Peeta every morning.She usually awoke first, being a creature of habit who was devoted to her job: early mornings and late nights meant that she could subside on little sleep. He would still be asleep, of course, dark eyelashes fluttering against his fair skin. His soft, even breathing, as if he had not a care in the world. Sometimes in their sleep, they would have inched perilously closer together, and then Katniss could feel his skin brush against hers. Teasing hers.She had never experienced anything like it before. Some crazy part of her wanted to wake him up one morning with a press of her lips to his.Bet he'd wake up fast that way.But she didn't dare. Who said he was even interested in her?She couldn't explain why her heart constricted like a vise at that thought. She had been there almost a week when she was awoken early one morning by something unusual. It was the sound of his voice, thick and slurred by sleep, but still decipherable. “Katniss,” he said, caught somewhere between a whimper and a moan.She laid there, not even moving a muscle. Maybe she was hearing things. That would be a rational explanation. Maybe she was dreaming. Maybe – and then she heard him say her name again, in a low groan, “Katniss.” There was no mistaking that for anything. She laid there, barely flinching a muscle, as she stared up at the ceiling. She had to weigh the consequences of her potential actions. She could lean into his touch, press her body against his. She could whisper his name - “Peeta,” she mouthed, as if to test it out. His name felt full and vibrant on her lips, but to voice it would be to confirm the reality of what had just happened.She finally decided. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and walked quietly across the cabin floor to where her shoes sat by the door. It would be easier to think about things rationally when she wasn't mere inches from his arms. She shoved her shoes on her feet, not bothering to tie the laces, slipped her coat around her shoulders, and made her way out to the front porch.There was a tree stump in the middle of what she considered to be his front yard, and she brushed the freshly-fallen night snow off from the top of it so she could sit down. The first rays of sunlight were just beginning to brush over the landscape, illuminating it in shades of ethereal gold. This was the kind of thing she missed out on living in the city. It was one thing to watch the sun rise over a field of undisturbed snow, and it was another entirely to watch it from between two big city high-rises.She sat out there for a while. A bird twittered merrily somewhere nearby. It was peaceful and quiet, and everything that she had been searching for when she decided to come out here in the first place.And then, inside the cabin, was what her friend had taunted her about beforehand but probably never dreamed would actually come true. Except Peeta wasn't – but he was, or at least she featured in his dream life, which said a lot, considering they'd known each other for about the length of a trip to Mexico over spring break.She exhaled sharply and watched her breath fog in front of her face.“Katniss?” His voice was questioning. She turned to face him; he leaned against the door frame and looked out at her. He looked like he was still half-asleep. “You weren't in bed when I woke up. I – I thought maybe you had decided to leave, or something. Go back to your car and go home, or something.”“No,” she said. She couldn't think too hard about the concern that emanated from his voice, for what it implied, and for what it left out at the same time. “I – I wanted to watch the sunrise.”“If you had told me, I would have woken up for it and watched it with you,” he said.“I didn't want to wake you.” It was simple, and honest, and to the point: she didn't want to wake him, because waking him would mean facing what existed between them. And what did exist? That was the question singeing the edges of her lips with the possibilities.“Oh.” He sounded a little disappointed, almost. “Well, uh, I put some eggs on the stove, if you want to come in for breakfast.”“Sure.” She dragged her foot through the snow. “I – just give me a moment, okay?”“Sure,” he said, echoing her earlier words. “Take all the time you need.”As he walked back into the cabin, she stared out at the snow drifts. What was she going to do? That night, she sat with her legs hanging over the back of the chair as she watched Peeta paint. It appeared to be the painting of a silhouette against a white backdrop. “What made you start painting?” she asked. “You're really good at it, by the way.”“Thanks,” he said. “It seemed like a natural transition from pastry-making, I guess. I can admire this work for months and years, instead of the minutes or hours it takes before I devour a beautifully-frosted cookie.”“That makes sense. Some permanency.”He nodded and dabbed his brush at the corner of the silhouette's face, refining the features somewhat. “You're leaving in a couple weeks, aren't you?” he asked. “Unless you're planning on leaving before then, if the snow melts.”She bit her lip. “That's what my plans are, yes.”“And can your plans change?” His voice sounded – dare she say it? Almost hopeful.“Do you want them to change?”“I'm not forcing you to stay here. You can leave any time you want. It might be easier to get back to the main road if you wait until the snow clears, but you're free to do whatever you want.”“Do you,” she said, standing up and crossing her arms over her chest, “want my plans to change? It's a yes or no question.”“And I'm not the person who should be making that decision,” Peeta said, putting his brush down and turning to face her. “If you want to stay – stay with me until the conditions improve, then you should make that decision because it's what you want to do. Not because you think it's what I want.”“I like it here.”“Fantastic. So do I. It's my home, after all.” He paused for a moment and flicked his eyes back over to his painting, before refocusing on her. “It's my home, and in this past week, you've made a lonely guy not so lonely. I have someone to talk to. Someone to show off my bread-making skills for.”She smiled. “And you do a really good job of it, I have to say.”“I don't want you to leave. I'll be really sad when you go back to your life in the city.” He exhaled, and his shoulders slumped forward. “I admitted it, okay? I like having you around.”“I know.”Confusion flickered across his face. “Wait – what?”“This morning. I wasn't wanting to see the sun rise. I woke up when you called my name in your sleep, and I went outside to think.” One honesty deserved another.His shoulders slumped even further forward, and his back hunched under his touch. “Oh. That. I – I didn't know -”“It's okay,” she said, attempting to laugh. “It was unexpected, but it's okay.”He crossed the room and stood in front of her, so close that she could reach out her hand just barely and brush it against his arm. “Katniss,” he said, mimicking the tone from his dream – half-whisper, half-moan, entirely something indescribable that sent shivers dancing in cascades down her spine. “Just this once, please -”He leaned forward. His lips grazed against hers, tentative, unsure – asking the silent question, “is this okay?”Yes. She sealed her lips over his, pushing back against him. He let out a short gasp at the feeling – had he not been expecting her to reciprocate? His arm looped around her back and pulled her closer to him, seeking the curves of her body flush against his. Her hand found its way to the back of his head and rested there, playing with the ends of his hair.He abruptly broke off the kiss and stared at her. His thumb hooked under a lock of hair and he pushed it back to rest on her forehead. “Katniss,” he said again.She could never tire of hearing him say her name. Awake, asleep, it didn't matter. She craved hearing his voice form the K around his lips, carrying the S through to the end. “Peeta.” It was no longer just her mouthing the words to a silent pantomime audience, but vocalizing it aloud. That kiss – that kiss was all the confirmation she needed. For everything.“I'm tired,” he said, yawning softly. “I'm going to go to bed – I don't know what you're going to do. It's up to you.” He walked across the cabin and slipped into bed.“Be right there.” This was clearly the invitation to something greater than just sharing a bed. They could no longer just share a bed as if nothing had happened – something had.As Katniss slid into bed next to him, he folded the blankets over her and drew her closer to him. “Hey,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the spot where her jaw met her neck.She wrapped her arm around his side and laid against him flat. There had been so many nights of the two of them in this bed, sleeping peacefully, and now she was thinking back on all of those nights and realizing what undercurrents could have been running the whole time. He felt warm. Warmth radiated off him in waves.His lips sought out her own, questing to touch her. And she allowed him entrance to her mouth. His tongue skirted the edge of her lip, dancing along and tracing patterns with the tip. She burrowed closer to him, seeking as much closeness and warmth as she could take.If she'd realized just how warm he was a week ago, maybe she would have fallen asleep in his arms long before now. They were strong and warm, and she felt warm and protected. Things hadn't worked out the way she'd thought – in fact, it was closer to how Annie had portrayed things.She felt Peeta's touch linger at her back, and then she felt his hand slid up her back to caress at her shoulder blades. She laid there and let him touch her, run his hands over her, and she arched into his touch.Infuriatingly, he was only touching her over her clothes. His hand was touching more of the fabric than he was of her, and she wasn't going to stand for that. Not when she wanted more. She wanted to feel him over her, and inside her, and every other way of being in contact with her. She reached for the hem of her shirt and tugged it up, exposing her stomach to him. “Peeta,” she said, her breath catching. “Please. Touch me.”He cocked his head as if he was trying to listen to her more intently. “If you insist,” he said, brushing his lips along hers as he ran his hand up her stomach, swirling his finger inside her navel.It was so – she moved her hands over him, and felt his muscles tense and release under her touch. She exhaled.And then his hands moved upward and brushed at the swell of her breasts, and his face showed the marvel of what he was feeling. His finger traced her pert nipple, tantalizing her with his touch. If she had a favorite trait of Peeta's right now, it was definitely his hands. Or his lips. Or the way that his thigh was grazing against hers, and she could feel his erection straining through his pants.With a devilish grin, she reached her hand down to cup at him. She felt his hardness in her grasp – she wanted to feel more. It wasn't enough to feel him through fabric. She needed the skin-on-skin contact. She needed to feel him. More. That was the word that kept running through her mind.He gasped at her touch, and moved to palm her breasts in reply, each hand holding a breast in rapt attention. “Katniss,” he said, “oh, you don't know what you're doing.”“I don't?” she asked, arching an eyebrow as she unfastened his jeans and attempted to push them down his legs. Through his briefs, she felt him twitch, and she bit back a grin. “I think I know exactly what I'm doing.”He moved over her, as to where he was laying on top of her, instead of being curled into her side as he had been. “No, you really don't,” he said. He took his hand and moved it in a blaze of molten fire to her waist, where he confidently undid the clasp of her jeans and thrust it inside. His fingers flattened her hairs and tangled inside them, and she felt her hips buck up into his touch. She wanted him to continue his adventure, go even further down – and then, she felt his finger part her folds and hook inside her. It was almost as if he could read her most craven desires as if they were a book. His finger pumped in and out of her, picking up the tempo as he did so.Were fingers considered separate from hands? Because if so, his fingers deserved a credit all their own. He slammed his finger into her, hitting her sweet spot repeatedly, and she let out a low moan. At least if he made her scream, there would be no one around for miles to hear her. Back home, her neighbors would either knowingly wink at each other or think she was being murdered, depending on how paranoid they were. And she figured the old lady above her would think the latter.She curled her body into his touch and pressed her legs together to keep his hand right where it was – between her legs, inside her.With his other hand, he pushed at her pants, trying to push them off her in a frantic haze. She acquiesced by parting her legs ever-so-slightly, to aide in the dispersion of her pants. She wanted them nowhere near her. And if it meant that Peeta would be able to better bring her pleasure with his ministrations, so much the better.She looked at him, and saw a mixture of lust and something more subdued lurking just below the surface reflected in his eyes – his pupils were dilated and round, and it sent a shiver down her spine.Her pants pooled around her ankles, she then made kicking motions to discard them. As she did so, Peeta ran the palm of his hand flat over her breasts. He continued to pump at her, and she lolled her head back, as if she was boneless and assuming any form that suited her desires.She felt her juices cascade over Peeta's hand and trickle down the insides of her thighs, and she let out a gasp. “Oh.”Peeta grinned. He wiggled his hand out from inside her – which led Katniss to let out a short mewl of consternation. “Glad to hear it,” he said, taking the hand that had been on her breasts and sliding his hand behind her neck, pulling her forward for another kiss. “And now you see why you didn't know what you were doing.”“I – I stand by the fact that I did, if that was what happened as a result,” she said. She struggled to catch her breath, as she leaned her head back into his touch.He leaned forward, and she felt his erection pressing against her. She knew what was coming – and she itched to release him from his prison. Feel him against her, have the friction of skin on skin contact. Feel him inside her again, but this time, not with the tease of his fingers. With one hand, she cupped at him, and with the other, she undid the clasp of his pants. She allowed the fabric to fall against her hand, and he writhed under her touch.Once the pants were finally – blessedly – off, along with the underwear he wore as well, she took in the sight of him. Impressively sized, she had to say. The torrid thought of her moving down his body and taking all of him inside her mouth ran through her mind. How would he react if she did that? She could practically hear him hiss her name in pleasure, the little surprised gasp that would emit from his lips when he realized what she was doing.She was about to react, bring the fantasy version of Peeta to life in front of her, when he reacted first. One of his arms wrapped around her stomach, the other grasped the back of her neck, and he turned her from his side so that she was underneath him. “Katniss,” he said, propping himself up on top of her and positioning himself against her thigh, tantalizingly just below her lips. “If you don't want this -”“I do,” she said, leaning up to kiss him. His scruff brushed against her chin, and it tickled, and she breathed in deeply. Could he stop tormenting her any time now?His face lightened considerably at her words, and he pushed forward so that he was inside her. She felt the pressure of him filling her, and she desired more. More of him, because he was so good at what he did. He had only just begun, and she felt a little tingle at the bottom of her spine.Gradually, he began to rock inside her – at first, it was slow and tantalizing, giving her little hints of what was to come. She writhed underneath him, hitching her ankles behind his calves, drawing him in closer to her. And then, almost as if her motion had granted him a measure of confidence – after all, he wasn't doing anything to her that she didn't want to be done – his tempo picked up, and she angled her hips so that he had a more desirable angle from which to hit the spots that brought her the most pleasure.He buried himself deep inside her, and pressed open-mouthed kisses to the base of her neck, grazing at the neckline of her shirt. Somehow, she had forgotten that it was still there, pushing up and exposing all but the stripe of skin between her breasts and her neck, but it was. His lip caught on the fabric, and she reached for the shirt. She tugged it above her head and threw it onto the pillow, and then leaned up so that her breasts grazed along Peeta's chest. Her nipples dragged against the fabric of his shirt – wait, he was still wearing his shirt too.How had he made her feel so good when there were still so many layers of clothing on them?She blamed the cold wind that she could distantly hear howling through the nearby trees for the layers. But Peeta was all she needed to keep her warm. He had been doing that for a week now, in a purely platonic sense, and now that he was doing it in a decidedly less-so manner, she couldn't imagine having it any other way.As she refocused on what he was doing, she noticed that he had apparently mastered the art of taking off his shirt without her realizing it. He was completely multi-talented, or so it seemed to her at that moment. He could bake, and paint, and take care of himself off the land and monthly trips into the tiny town nearby, and, perhaps most importantly at that moment, knew just how to slam into her at an angle that made her toes curl and a short hiss escape from her mouth. And his chest – she splayed her hand out and brushed her hand against a nipple.He let out a groan. She bit back a smirk. So two could play at this game. He could make her feel good, and she could still tantalize him with the very best.She felt tension coil in her stomach, and she stared straight ahead. His eyes shone brightly in the dim light of the nearby lantern that lit their movements. She knew that she had to be close, or else she wouldn't be feeling this way – feeling as if some intangible part of her was going to explode with the mere touch of a finger.It wasn't very much longer – although in her heightened sense of arousal, time-telling wasn't her strongest suit, so it could have been seconds or minutes or hours and she wouldn't have known – before white-hot sparks and stars shot before her eyes, as she felt her stomach uncoil and the tension release in a torrent. “Peeta,” she said, almost in a scream. She held out the name; she wanted to feel nothing but his name on her lips.With a grunt, he came inside her, and he kissed her, long and hard, as if to reclaim his name from her. He gradually slid out of her, almost reluctantly, and then laid down next to her. He pulled his arms around her and pulled the blanket over them. “You were – that was -”“That was amazing, was what that was,” she said. She could still feel the throbbing between her legs, the burning desire that had not abated, even after everything. She probably wouldn't be able to walk for a while, but that wasn't a problem. After all, the only place that she really wanted to be was here, in his bed, in his arms. She laid her head against his shoulder, her hair brushing the top of his arm. “You – you know just how to make me feel good.”“I'm glad.”She closed her eyes and snuggled into his neck further. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”“Anything.”“Why do you have two chairs at your table? You've always lived alone, or so you said, and I know you said you made those yourself.”“Call it optimism.” He laughed under his breath and kissed the top of her head. “Good night, Katniss. Sweet dreams.”They'll all be sweet, because you're the only thing I can think about right now. “'Night.” She awoke one morning in the middle of the next week and burrowed her head into his shoulder. They had had another marathon session of sex the night before – the tingling between her legs wouldn't stop, not for anything. Not that she wanted it to. But she always felt warmer on these mornings after they had had sex, because the warmth that emanated from him was enough to warm even the chilliest of hearts. And she didn't just mean the fact that he was physically warm.She knew that the snowdrifts were still piled up around her – his, she mentally amended, although she was beginning to think of it as home, just a little – cabin, and she loosely wondered about what would happen if she had to stay past the three weeks. She hadn't even thought about her car in a while. It'd probably been towed off to some car lot in the next major town, possibly sold for scrap metal. Not that she'd particularly miss it. Not that she even particularly used it, so it wouldn't affect her daily life back home.She looked outside, through the window that was just over Peeta's shoulder. Lazy white snowflakes fell from the sky. It was a sight to which she had grown very accustomed in a short amount of time.“You're awake,” he said, his voice thick with sleep and a hint of arousal. “I didn't know you were awake.”“I didn't want to wake you,” she said, kissing him softly.“Best way to wake up, ever.”She tilted her head to the side. “No, I think that would be you inside me.”“You're right. Your wish is my command.” He embraced her, and then turned himself so that he was hovering over her instead of laying next to her, and the tip of his erection slid against the inside of her thigh. She smiled wide as he slid inside and began to thrust inside her.It really was the best way to wake up. The next day, he took her outside during a lull in the snow. “I only have so much meat on hand,” he said, “and we're about to run out of it, and I don't want to make us live on bread alone.”“I think I could live on just your bread though,” Katniss said, as she walked along and examined the knife that Peeta had handed her. It was long and sharp, and appeared to be quite lethal for whatever animal was unlucky enough to cross her path.He got down on his knees to examine a trap that he had set. “Damn. I was hoping that a rabbit had hopped on through and gotten stuck. I have a rabbit dish that I've been wanting to make for you.”She turned away from him, distracted by something passing through the trees nearby. “Shh,” she admonished, pulling out the knife and angling the blade. “There's a deer. I think I can get it.”“Venison would be -”“Shh!” She positioned the knife, and with a flick of her wrist, she sent the knife spiraling through the air in the direction of the deer. It made contact.She ran over to it. “I got it!” she exclaimed.He followed her footsteps over to her and knelt down next to her, in order to examine what she had done. “Way to go,” he said, kissing her cheek. “You're officially a nature girl now. You're a natural at it, you really are.”“Thanks.” She kissed him back and hefted the deer onto her shoulders. “Mind helping me carry this back to the cabin? I think we're going to be eating well.”“I agree,” he said, as he took the other side of the deer. They retraced their steps that they had previously tread, and snowflakes began to fall as they walked, obscuring the path. But Peeta knew the way back – of course he knew the way, he knew this area like the back of his hand, because he was the one who had settled this land and tamed it for his own purposes.As they set the deer down on the porch, they exchanged looks, and Katniss had a sudden wave of panic rush over her head. Can I really leave him in a little over a week? Can I really go back to my old life and pretend that nothing happened here? Can I? She willed herself not to think about it, lest she start to cry. And then she'd have to explain her tears, and she didn't want to make Peeta endure all that. She was beginning to acclimate out here, but at the same time, the city was where her home was.No matter what she did, it wasn't going to be easy. She watched him paint, again, a few days later. The silhouette painting sat propped against the wall, and now he was working on a painting of two figures. “So, what are you painting?” she asked, dropping her hand against the back of the chair.He dabbed a square of red on the one figure. “I paint what I see,” he said, his voice faint and mysterious.“You started with owls, as I remember.”“Yes. That was part of my 'animals I hear at night' collection. You can see the whole gallery if you'd just ask.” He filled in the square with careful brush strokes of deep scarlet red. “And now I've moved on.”“Oh?”He gestured to the silhouette. “That's you in the snowstorm.” He stood back, so that she could see his newest work in progress. “And that's us. Together.”“And the red thing?” She had to ignore the feelings that bubbled in her chest at his declaration.“That's the messenger bag you brought with you,” he said, gesturing to where it laid on the floor by the bed. “Because it makes you stand out. Even though you do that entirely by yourself.”She had to fight back tears at that point, and she bit her lip. He was too sweet. Too perfect. She'd found a soft-hearted mountain man with a heart of gold, and she didn't want to let him go, but they were expecting her back in the city any day now.“Katniss,” he said, putting down his palette and walking over to her. “What's wrong?”“I -” she paused, and tried to find the right words, even though the right words were always missing. She never knew how to put things elegantly, so that people would listen to her. “My vacation's over in a few days. I need to go back to the city.”His face was thunderstruck. “Do you really have to leave?” he asked, his voice wavering. “Or – Katniss -” It was him begging her to stay, without saying the words aloud. He turned back to face the painting, and his voice was choked up as he spoke, “I was hoping you would stay. At least a while longer.”“I've already stayed longer than I intended,” she said. “I thought that I was just going to get something quick to eat and then you'd help me contact AAA and I'd be back on the road to Cozy Snow Mountain Rentals before noon.”“And things didn't turn out that way.” He fidgeted back and forth, pacing between the bed, the easel, and the other, unoccupied chair. “But you've enjoyed yourself.”“I have.”“You only checked your cell phone once, and that was that first day.”“And there was no reception. I bet my voicemail inbox is full of concerned messages from Annie and Rue,” she said. “But I haven't really had the motivation to check. I – I've enjoyed spending the time with you instead of checking my phone for messages every five minutes.”“Is there anything I can do to convince you to stay?” He plopped down on the bed and looked at her, imploring her with his expression. He looked like Prim's old cat Buttercup when he wanted food, and she half-expected him to start meowing at any moment.She thought for a moment, giving it careful consideration. “I can think of one way...” she said, and she crossed the room and grasped the back of his neck, pulling him in for a passionate kiss.Sometimes, it was better to let the heart do the talking, because her brain would have never gotten her into this situation to begin with. A few weeks later, Annie walked in the door of her apartment building from another long day at the office. She flicked her eyes down to her phone. There was still no sign of Katniss, no sign of contact from her since the day she drove out there. Annie wasn't a person who dealt in negativities, so she wanted to think as positively as she could about the lack of communication.She was doing good. She was doing well. She'd fallen in love with her ski instructor and ran off and was planning on having his babies.Or something.She turned the key in her mailbox, and pulled out the small stack of mail that waited for her. Bill, bill, catalog...postcard? It showed a gorgeous mountain landscape, all snow-capped and pristine. The text on the card said “Greetings from Fisher's Creek!”She flipped the card over. In Katniss's distinctive handwriting, she saw the words “wish you were here” scrawled across the back. At the bottom, it was signed “Katniss,” and then a strange handwriting with the name “Peeta.”Peeta. Damnit, she had gone ahead and done it. It had been a joke, a lark, a commentary on the fact that Katniss didn't do the whole dating scene. And she'd risen to the occasion. Above it, even.“You won, Katniss,” Annie said, as she walked up the stairs to her apartment, a grin crossing her face as she looked down at the card again. “You won.”-fini-
1030056	Hellboy meets Torchwood	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Jack Harkness, Hellboy, Abe Sapien, Liz Sherman, Trevor Bruttenholm", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Jania28", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-11-03T00:00:00", "words": "970", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Hellboy (Movies), Torchwood", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Meetings One: England 1944Jack hated working in the field, but when your bosses regularly threatened you with experimentation if you didn’t do what they said, he went into the field whenever they asked. Not that being off the front lines was a bad thing; Jack just didn’t see any point in helping some professor stop the Nazis from getting their hands on some occult something or other, when he knew how the war turned out. Then he met Trevor Bruttenholm and his whole view of the situation changed. The man was intelligent and treated Jack’s squad like they knew what they were doing, rather than taking the whole “I’m the brains and you are the hired muscle” approach so many bookish types did when confronted with career soldiers like Jack and his men. Trevor also seemed to sense there was something different about Jack, he never pressed for details or assumed Jack was an open book, but the captain often caught the younger man watching him when Broom thought Jack wasn’t looking. Maybe the field wasn’t so bad after all; Jack thought was he caught Trevor stealing another glance his way. Meetings Two: England 1944A baby demon, in his long life Jack had never considered that the occult could be real. He’d always chalked up those reports as alien tech or some species playing a joke on the human race. But as he watched Trevor lure the scared child down from his perch with a Baby Ruth, he began to understand that there might be something bigger than himself or even the Doctor out there. That night with the curious Hellboy sitting on his shoulder curling his tail around Jack’s neck, the immortal captain confessed his secret to Bruttenholm and a lifelong friendship was born. Tails: New Mexico: 1956Jack didn’t know why Broom had insisted on stealing him away from Torchwood for six months of every year. Not that he minded the break of course, but still he had told Trevor time and time again that he belonged in Cardiff, though he never explained why. Still coming back on base was always a joy and Hellboy seemed to explode with childlike enthusiasm whenever he saw Jack coming. For at least two days after he arrived, the demon boy would sit on the captain’s left shoulder, his tail curled around Jack’s neck. When he got too big for that, Jack would hide treats and small toys in his pockets for Hellboy to discover. It always amused anyone entering his office to see the captain working on a file as a small red tail snaked its way into a pocket and back out again, while Jack pretended to be none the wiser. Meetings Three: Kansas City: 1973Once B.P.R.D. moved to Connecticut, Jack wasn’t as involved with the organization as he had been in the early days. However, the immortal always made time from Broom and any request he might have. Currently he stood outside what was once a residential area, and was now a flaming mass of wood, brick and stone. “I wouldn’t go in there sir,” the agent he’d handed his coat to, warned. Jack smiled and shook his head. “I’ll be alright,” he told the woman and jogged across the street and into the first house before he could lose his nerve. He found her hidden in a corner crying, the burned bodies of her family around her. He knelt and spoke to her using a soft slow tone Hellboy had nicknamed Jack’s ‘hypno voice’“It’s alright sweetheart,” he soothed the dark haired girl as she slowly crawled out of her hiding place and into his arms, “I promise nothing bad will happen to you ever again.” Waterlogged: New York City, 1997Tramping around a damp warehouse was not Jack’s idea of a good time; especially not while babysitting a fire girl, an eight foot tall demon and a fish man who could read your mind just by touching you. Trevor was going to owe him big time for this little favor, he thought to himself as he walked along not paying attention to his surroundings. As such, Jack soon found himself soaking wet, sputtering and annoyed as an amused Abe Saipan pulled him out of the tank he’d fallen into. Jack denied having anything to do with the month long prank war that started the next day, but everyone knew he was the one who hid Abe’s Rubrics Cube in one of Hellboy’s litter boxes. Parting: Valiant 2009They were dead…all of them were dead. Jack was glad he was too weak to stand or he would have made a grab for the Master to break his neck. Instead he could only watch in horror as the bodies of his second family were dragged away. Clever Trevor with his arguments, chess games and late night cups of coffee even though he preferred tea. Good natured Abe, who always greeted Jack with a request for news from the outside world. Sweet fiery Liz, who had followed him around like a puppy for most of her young life, which Jack had submitted to with much teasing from both Clay and Hellboy, all of them were gone. And Hellboy, the one being who understood Jack better than anyone he had ever known had gone down fighting with everything he’d had, even the Doctor now bowed his head in respect to such passion and fury. A little piece of Jack had died when Torchwood Three had fallen and another piece of him died today. He stared to the Master with a gaze so dark that the Time Lord had him shot in the head to make it stop. But he saw that gaze in every time he closed his eyes until the day he died.
1053198	Bang Bang Bang Bang	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "John Watson, Sherlock Holmes, Jim Moriarty, Sebastian Moran, Molly Hooper, Mike Stamford, Sarah Sawyer", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by cheshirecat101", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-11-21T00:00:00", "words": "8,761", "Additional Tags": "Teenlock, Alternate Universe - High School, School Shootings, Angst, Dark fic, Teenagers, Gun Violence, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Revenge, Minor Character Death, Mass Death, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Jim Moriarty/John Watson", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & 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 }	“Ohhh Johnny boy! Come out come out wherever you are!” John didn’t move, even his breathing quiet where he hid behind the library shelves, crouched down with Sherlock right next to him as they held their breath with their bodies tensed to move between the shelves as needed. They’d already been slipping between them, moving when Jim wasn’t looking to the places he’d already looked over. Jim wasn’t the problem at the moment; Sebastian was, because they had no idea where the fuck he was and there was no way they’d be able to hide with both of them sweeping the library. From his vantage point John could see the body of a boy about a year younger than him on the floor, covered by the body of another dead student. But there, the boy’s chest was moving just slightly, and John realized with an exhale of relief that he was just playing dead, blood soaking his shirt to add to the illusion. Smart kid, and thank god for that. “Oh, don’t tell me you don’t want to play, love,” Jim called, his voice ringing through the quite literally dead empty library. He sighed dramatically. “Then I suppose I’ll have to give you a little incentive.” There were a few sounds and then a female cry. “Come out, or I’m going to shoot this lovely girl in the head. Sarah, isn’t it? Aren’t you two friends?” John instantly moved to get up, looking stricken, and Sherlock pulled him right back, wrapping his arm tightly around John’s chest and arms, his other hand going to cover John’s mouth. “He’s going to kill her anyway, John, he’s killing everyone he finds,” he breathed in John’s ear, and John shook his head and tried to move again and Sherlock held him in place until they heard a gunshot. John instantly went limp in his arms, something breaking inside of him as he leaned back against Sherlock, who moved his hand to pet his hair softly. His hand was shaking slightly. John was perfectly still, his body calm under the adrenaline. Calm was a relative term when his heart was currently being strangled by fear, already broken pieces being ground into a fine powder by the pressure of his terror. “John, we have to find a way to get out. He’s going to find us eventually, and when he does he’s going to kill me and do much worse to you,” Sherlock said, his voice lower than even a whisper. Each word came out with an exhale, the rhythm of his words in time with the rhythm of his breathing. “Johnny, I never thought you could be so cold. I must admit, I rather like it. Survival of the fittest, isn’t it?” He paused, and John could nearly feel his eyes sweeping the library, brushing over their hiding place. He held his breath even though he knew it was ridiculous and only let it go when he felt Jim’s eyes were away again. “Though I’m sure if it had been dear Sherlock I was threatening, you would have changed your tune. Does that sound about right, dearest?” John shivered against Sherlock as Sherlock’s arm tightened around him, an automatic stress response. If Jim was going to shoot them, he hoped it would be like this, so he could at least die in Sherlock’s arms. But god did he know that Jim would never give them that gift. “He would deserve it, though…” the voice continued, turning into something slick and dangerous. John tried to focus on Sherlock’s voice in his ear instead as the baritone softly commanded, “The windows in the computer lab are big enough for us to slip through but we can only move so far without him noticing us. Now—” “You BETRAYED me!” Both of them flinched back at the sudden shout, and John could have sworn he saw the boy playing dead on the floor twitch. The room held its breath, and after a minute there was a low, mournful voice. “Johnny…I just want to see you again…I just want to fix things…” “We’ll have to run the last part,” Sherlock was continuing as if John wasn’t a step away from crying, his lips a feather light brush against John’s ear. “And slipping out the window while he’s shooting at us won’t be easy. The best thing to do would be to—” Sherlock’s voice abruptly cut off, and before John could look to see why he heard a deep voice saying, “On your feet, Holmes, and let go of the boy.” His blood froze on the spot, recognizing that voice instantly, and Sherlock’s arms slid away from him as he stood. “John, I think it would be best for both you and Holmes here if you walked out to say hello to Jim,” the deep voice continued, and John nodded, putting his hands up as he walked forward, Sherlock following after him. He glanced back and yes, there was Sherlock with his hands up and his head slightly bowed, Sebastian Moran holding a gun to the back of his head. Sebastian’s eyes were dark and John found himself so chilled by them that he turned his head forward again, in time to emerge from behind the shelves and see Jim. He wasn’t sure which was worse; the way Jim’s eyes lit up when he saw him or the way the other teen already looked. Because Jim…god, Jim. The first, most obvious detail was the gun in Jim’s hand, a sleek black handgun like the one Seb was holding to the back of Sherlock’s head. More shocking, however, was the red spray of blood over Jim’s white t-shirt and part of his face, varying from flecks on his neck and chest to near splotches on his left arm, his left hand the one that held the gun. His shoes, too, Converse, had their white edges tainted with crimson, and John realized that his legs were trembling as he walked. “Johnny boy,” Jim purred, taking a step towards him as John continued forward, as much as his instincts were screaming for him to run. “I’ve been looking for you.” * Sherlock was in the lab when the firing started. John was halfway across the school in the library, and the sounds hadn’t quite reached yet, but on his side, it was quick and unexpected; five shots in quick succession, and then the screaming started and the firing didn’t stop. He was up from his microscope in a second and by the door in another, keeping it closed and pressing his back against it before moving just slightly to peer out of it. The chaos hadn’t reached them yet which meant that the other part of the school hadn’t been hit. They’d started with the cafeteria, clever, there were no security measures in place and anyone had to run out the exits to get into the halls, probably hoping for a classroom if they couldn’t reach the doors to the school. It was going to be murder on a mass scale, Sherlock already knew who was responsible for this and they would certainly be well prepared for it. “Sherlock, what is it?” Molly asked, her voice frightfully small. She and Mike had frozen on their stools when it started and were waiting breathlessly now, knowing they had a better chance of survival if they waited for the help of the genius in the room. “Hide,” he said after a moment, and then turned pale mint green eyes on them. “Go underneath the lab benches, they won’t be able to see you from the other side of the door. Turn off all the lights and lock all the doors, and whatever you do, don’t let them in.” “What are you going to do?” Mike asked, his voice not much bigger than Molly’s had been. Sherlock’s hand pushed down the handle to open the door, and he didn’t even look back as he said, “I have to find John.” Then he slipped out the door, and heard the click of the lock as Molly, always a good girl, followed his directions. He didn’t bother to look in the direction the shooting was coming from, knowing he didn’t want to see what was happening and couldn’t help anyway. Even if he shouted at everyone that there was no use in trying the exits because they had to all be blocked, they wouldn’t listen. They were all in panic mode, and most would run and few would manage to find places to hide. Luckily the classrooms this way were unaffected and Sherlock stopped everyone he could manage to quickly tell them to get in a classroom, lock the door, turn off the lights, and hide out of sight. He didn’t have much time, though, and thanked god for his height and resulting long legs as he mostly ran to the library, flinging the doors wide when he reached it. The sound of shots must have gotten closer because everyone was scrambling for a place to hide and there was John, trying to figure out a way to get a back door open with a few other students. “Sherlock,” he breathed with absolute relief when he saw the other teen, and Sherlock instantly said to everyone in their vicinity, “The doors are all blocked, find a place to hide and do it quickly,” before rushing over to John and pulling him back behind the shelves, only barely managing to get behind them before the doors burst open and the sound of quick, successive shots rang out. They both dropped into a crouch at the sound, hiding as best they could against the nearest shelf. After a few minutes the firing was over, and Sherlock tightly held onto John’s hand, managing to move them both at the exact moments needed to escape the gaze of the boy who was so softly, so sweetly calling, “Oh, Johnny boy…Daddy just wants to have a talk…” * They’d planned it out perfectly. Of course, that was because Jim was a genius and Seb wanted to go into the military—just like John, just like fucking beautiful wonderful awful heart tearing out John—but when it was finished, it was beautiful. Bolt all the doors from the outside except the office one, go back in through that one, shoot the administrators and guidance counselors, then head to the cafeteria and start shooting. From there they could work their way outwards, Seb taking one route and Jim taking the other. That way Seb could take care of other important matters while Jim made his slow, bloody way to the most important item on the agenda; John. Well, Sherlock was important too, but he knew that the raven haired teen would immediately go to help John no matter how far away they were from each other when the firing started. The thought actually made him slightly sick and definitely angry when he really considered it, but at the moment it was just a tactical advantage. The easiest way to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. And Sherlock, at least, had to die. This was his fault. This was entirely his fault, and he was going to BURN for it. John…well, Johnny boy could be reclaimed. Johnny was a good boy, a smart boy, and he just needed a little reminder of who he belonged with (to) and how this all worked. Who had had him first, who was the real genius, who he really wanted, who fucking DESERVED him. And with Sherlock out of the way, it would be easy for him to reclaim what was his. It was so good that he had Sebby on his side, because he was the most valuable asset Jim had in this plan. Seb was cold and cool and tactical and enjoyed bloodshed. More than that, he was willing to go down with Jim’s ship or even sacrifice himself so Jim didn’t have to. Perfect, just perfect. If only John could be that devoted to him. Well, he almost had been—but Jim shut that thought down, knowing he had to stay focused for this. So when all the doors were prepped and they stood outside the last one, ready to break in and kickstart this whole affair, he grinned at Seb, gun in hand, and Seb gave a small smile back, which amounted to about ten of Jim’s grins. “Let’s have some fun, Sebby,” Jim whispered, and then they kicked the door open and started firing. * “This is because of him, isn’t it?” Jim asked, eyes dark, and John instantly jumped into a defense, shaking his head. “No, Jim, it isn’t,” he said, though they both knew damn well that it was. But Jim was volatile and he didn’t want to risk Sherlock getting hurt in the fallout. “I just…it’s not working.” “It was working perfectly fine until Sherlock Holmes showed up,” Jim said, his face calm in a way that was scaring John. He licked his lips nervously, Jim’s eyes darting to the motion, and tried again. “Okay, yes, it is. But this is my choice, Jim, he’s not forcing me into anything. It’s not fair of me to keep seeing you if I have feelings for someone else. I’m not going to cheat on you and I’m not going to stay if I’m only leading you on. And I…I’m sorry. Because I really did mean everything I said to you. But it’s just not working. And I’m—” his breath caught because god, he didn’t want to say this, he didn’t want to hurt Jim but no matter what he did it would hurt him “—I’m in love with him.” His blue eyes stayed fixed on his hands as they nervously picked at his nails, a habit that he knew Jim hated—Sherlock did too, actually, because of the symbolism of it, same reason Jim did—but that he couldn’t stop at the moment. It had to stop, however, when pale, slim hands slid over his own, Jim gently prying apart his fingers to keep him from hurting himself. John’s eyes rose to meet Jim’s warm chocolate brown ones, and thank god, somehow the other student didn’t seem furious. He just seemed a touch sad. And still calm. And the calm was really what was worrying John. John’s entire face softened at the sight of the other boy, and he was having a hard time resisting the urge to cry just because he hated hurting Jim and he knew what this was going to do to him and everything was so new with Sherlock and he wasn’t sure what he was doing— His thoughts cut off as Jim lifted first one hand, then the other, to lay a soft kiss to the back of each, making sure to maintain eye contact with John. John’s heart seemed to stutter to a stop, more so when Jim gently pulled him into a hug, arms wrapped around the slightly smaller blonde. “Johnny boy,” he breathed against John’s ear, and John had to repress a slight shiver because he’d heard that whispered nickname in so many other situations, “it’s alright. Holding on to you would only hurt you, and I would never do that.” John nearly collapsed against him, sure that the other teen could feel the enormous amount of tension he’d been holding and just how hard this was for him. He didn’t want to let Jim go. He had actually loved Jim. But Sherlock...the way he felt about Sherlock was on an entirely different level. And he couldn’t resist that pull even if he tried. “I’m so sorry, Jim,” he said shakily against Jim’s shoulder. “I never meant to hurt you.” “Shhh, Johnny boy, let me fix it for you,” Jim had murmured back, and had continued to pet John’s golden hair as they made their peace and said their goodbyes. John was still shaky when he left, still upset about the entire thing, but he felt a little better since Jim seemed to take it so well. But that worried him. Because even as he walked away, he could still feel Jim’s dark eyes on him, and he knew that it was unlike Jim to give up on something so easily. Especially on John, because Jim had nearly worshiped him. Jim’s love was a strong, dark love that bordered on obsession and John knew that it couldn’t be this easy. Well, maybe something else was waiting in the wings. Maybe Jim would show up at his window in a few days and beg and plead and scream. Maybe he’d try to hurt Sherlock. Whatever it was, John knew he could handle it. * “I’m in love with you.” The words were blurted out in a rush, Sherlock nearly tripping over them in his haste to get them out. John just stared up at him for a minute, the book in his hands entirely forgotten. “What?” he asked after a minute. “Please don’t make me repeat it, John,” Sherlock said, his tone as pleading as it could possibly get. John looked at him for a minute before slowly nodding, then gestured to the seat next to him at the library table, which Sherlock took. “So,” he said after another minute of nervous silence. “You’re in love with me.” Sherlock nodded, his entire body thrumming with a nervous energy that made every word John said sharp and clear. Everything was heightened like this, every sense on edge as he waited, desperately, to hear what John would say. “And you know I have a boyfriend,” John said, and Sherlock’s heart sank as he nodded at the same time as something with angry fangs reared its head in the back of his mind. Jim Moriarty should not have been John’s boyfriend. Jim didn’t deserve him in the slightest, and Jim was extremely, extremely dangerous. He just hid it very well. And of course, John, sweet as he was, always tried to see the best in people. And Jim was nothing if not doting; Sherlock had seen them together plenty of times and Jim nearly oozed affection, constantly using pet names and seeming unable to keep his hands off John, always holding hands with him or kissing his cheek or lips or whatever he could reach, at least if John wasn’t just completely enveloped in his arms like he quite often was. Jim worshipped John with love and affection, and Sherlock felt sick at the thought of him doing the same in private, worshipping every inch of John’s skin with lips and teeth and tongue and— Even if he’d been able to stop that thought before its eventual conclusion, Jim wouldn’t have let him. Because Jim hated him, they’d both hated each other since Sherlock had stepped foot into this school, even before Sherlock had met John and realized that yes, this was it, this was the exact person that he needed. That John was what was missing in his life. And sure, Sherlock and Jim could play games with each other on an entirely different level from anything else either of them had experienced, but they were quite firmly on opposite sides of the board. Sherlock, for all his faults, still represented the light, while Jim, as always, preferred to play in the dark. But John, dear, darling John couldn’t see that. He’d known Jim far before Sherlock came along, and Jim didn’t show any intention of letting him go. Instead, he made sure Sherlock knew exactly who John belonged to, making sure Sherlock saw plenty of long kisses and not quite but close to inappropriate touches and the easy, general air of affection they had together that was unfortunately reciprocated by John, the blonde easily, almost unconsciously slipping his hand into Jim’s in the hallway or giving him a goodbye kiss with that brilliant smile John had when he was truly happy. It killed Sherlock. So he’d confessed. John was looking at the library table now instead of staring at Sherlock, and Sherlock wasn’t sure if that was better or worse. The silence dragged on, and finally Sherlock just had to say, “I know you’re dating Jim. I’m not expecting reciprocation. I just had to tell you.” John’s cerulean eyes returned to his, and for all his deductive powers Sherlock couldn’t figure out what on earth the other teen was thinking at the moment. “Why?” he asked. “I—because I—because—” He stopped, words, always a strong suit, failing him. “Because it drives me insane when I see you with him and I can’t be friends with you anymore without losing my sanity.” He came to an abrupt stop there, eyes on the table for a moment before flashing back to John’s, his cheeks slightly flushed. Facts were so much easier to deal with than emotions. And who the hell decided that the two could be combined? He found himself unable to look away from John’s gaze, the other teen looking at him evenly for a minute before looking at his nails as he began to pick at them, nervous habit that Sherlock had noted since the very first time they met. It had added to some of the more…unfortunate deductions on his part. “Okay,” John said after a moment, and Sherlock realized his heart had stopped beating. “So you’re in love with me.” “Yes,” Sherlock said. How many more times was he going to have to repeat it? John continued to pick at his nails and suddenly Sherlock couldn’t stand it anymore, reaching out with long, elegant fingers to clamp down on John’s hands and get him to stop. John’s eyes lifted to meet his, and then the most wonderful words Sherlock had ever heard came out of his mouth; “I’m in love with you too.” Sherlock nearly choked on his words when he tried to speak and gave up before he asphyxiated. That was good, because he needed the oxygen to keep his heart going when John said, “But I also love Jim, and I am still dating him. So I don’t know what I can do, Sherlock.” Leave the psychopath and be with me, Sherlock’s mind whispered, but he shoved the words back down, seeing from the look in John’s eyes that he was already too torn up about this, had been for some time. “You don’t have to do anything now,” he said, proud of how smooth his voice was. “Take your time. I won’t bother you about it.” “Of course,” John said, and offered him a slight smile that, although it was somewhat sad, gave Sherlock something to cling to on top of John’s words. It made it a little easier to leave John that day, though he knew so very much was weighing on the other student and a good portion of that was Sherlock’s heart, the fragile organ left in John’s care because he was the only person who could possibly be trusted with it. And it would break irreparably if John chose Jim in this instance, but Sherlock had had to risk it. He had to at least try with John, even if nothing came of it. * “I met that bloke today. The new one everyone keeps talking about,” John said. He and Jim were sitting against one of the trees in the courtyard, John between Jim’s legs with his back to Jim’s chest, Jim’s arms around his waist. Jim was playing with the fingers on one of John’s hands, using his own to spread them wide, slip between them, bend them with slight pressure on his palm, whatever he felt like because John was just letting him as usual and he loved the minute details that made up John as much as he loved John allowing him free reign over his body, mind, and heart. “Sherlock Holmes?” he asked, knowing that that was who John meant before he even said, “Yes, that’s the one! He was in my English class.” “Really?” Jim murmured into John’s blonde hair, his attention seemingly focused on the contact between the pads of their fingers when in actuality he was hanging onto John’s every word. Sherlock Holmes was a danger to him, he could already feel it in his bones. Sherlock was far too intelligent and far too observant and far too similar to yet different from Jim. They hadn’t officially met yet, but no doubt Sherlock had heard as much about him as he’d heard about Sherlock, if not more. An insidious, twisting thought rose in his mind as he contemplated John’s meeting with Sherlock, and he asked nearly innocently, “How did that happen?” “Well, basically Mike knew him already and he introduced us,” John said, his eyes on their hands as Jim’s motions slowly continued. He shifted for a moment before settling completely back against Jim again, his body automatically relaxing and molding itself to Jim’s. It was so wonderful that it almost made up for John running across Sherlock Holmes. “Then he basically ran down my entire life for me in a few sentences and seemed surprised when I told him it was brilliant. Then I told him that of course I thought it was brilliant, my boyfriend can do the same thing, and he asked about you.” Good, his John had been good and immediately marked himself as Jim’s. It always sent a thrill through Jim whenever John referred to him as his boyfriend so naturally, like it was just a normal, obvious fact in his life. “What did you tell him?” Jim asked. From his position with John’s head back against his shoulder he could see John’s smile before he turned those pretty blue eyes on Jim. “Worried about what I say about you when you’re not there?” he asked with a slightly teasing tone, then turned his attention back to Jim’s hand, using both of his own to play with it and slide his fingertips up Jim’s palm. “I told him that you’re brilliant and fantastic and amazing and I think he’d love you if he met you.” He picked up Jim’s hand, kissing the tip of each finger before turning to smile at him again. “Not as much as I do, of course, but that’s kind of hard to beat.” And Jim kissed him, something swelling in his chest at the thought that this, this was all his for the taking and John was offering it freely to him, wanted him just as much as Jim wanted him. Well, maybe not quite that much. Jim felt a dangerous combination of love, obsession, and desire for John, and he knew that it was darker and stronger than what John felt for him. But when they broke apart and Jim said, “I love you,” John said back with one of his more brilliant smiles, “I love you too,” and Jim knew that once again, still, as always, John was his. “So are you going to try to be friends with him?” Jim asked after a few minutes of contented silence, and John shrugged. “I don’t see why not,” he said. “Most people don’t seem to really like him because they’re idiots, and he just seems really…lonely, I guess. I think it’d be good. Besides, he seems off-putting at first, but once you talk to him a bit you see he’s not actually that bad.” He turned to smile at Jim again. “Though I don’t know if I can handle two geniuses, mine is already a handful.” Jim slipped his hand to John’s side to tickle him slightly, smiling as John giggled and begged him to stop. He did after a minute, laying a kiss on John’s temple as his arms wrapped securely around John again and John leaned back against him. “Just be careful,” he murmured against John’s fine blonde hair. John’s brow furrowed, lips pursing slightly in that adorable way he had. “Why do you say that?” Jim thought for a moment, carefully choosing his words. John always wanted to see the best in people, and he’d dismiss anything Jim said if he didn’t see it as good enough of a reason. He was eager to make friends, and while it was what had drawn them together in the first place it was also a constant source of jealousy to Jim whenever John threw himself into friendly exchanges with everyone around himself. So the best way to go about this would probably be to give at least a little bit of the truth, appeal to John’s boundless emotional side. “Because you don’t know anything about him. And if one genius already fell for you, why couldn’t two?” he said, and after a moment John slipped out of his arms to face him completely, kneeling between Jim’s legs and putting his hands on his chest. “I already have everything I want right here, why would I go looking for it somewhere else?” he asked, and offered Jim a genuine smile before kissing him again, Jim’s heart fluttering in his chest. John, lovely John, his John, always knew how to reassure him. And that was good, because he didn’t know what he’d do if he lost him. * John was the loveliest obsession he’d ever had. Usually Jim’s brain latched onto darker concepts like explosives and serial killers and the best methods for disposing of a body, but John was the opposite. He was sheer light, clean and pure and powerful and wonderful. He was beautiful. And Jim wasn’t sure if he’d ever wanted anything more in his life. John Watson had started as an infection and turned into a fever that inflamed his entire body, mind, and heart. His time alone at home, which had consisted before of planning the best ways to kill the people he didn’t like, was now devoted to John, formulating plans and theories and just thinking about that soft blonde hair and those bright blue eyes. He wanted John so much that it almost hurt, and it was why he found himself sneaking into John’s house on a day he was sure it was empty. It was far too easy to get in, and John’s room was left unlocked, though the door was closed. The room itself was pretty small, though sunny, and had room for his bed, a desk with a rolling chair, a closet and a dresser. Oh god. This was so lovely, and almost too much. The entire room breathed John. It was so obviously, so entirely a place that belonged solely to him, and Jim felt a thrill at secretly being here, of violating John’s territory like this without his knowledge. John, John, John, John. God. Jim let his fingers run across the items on John’s desk, pencils and pens and knick knacks and books alike. Just touching things that he knew John had touched, that he spent time with, was intoxicating. Jim’s high was only enhanced by sitting on John’s bed, smoothing the comforter down with his hands as he imagined what John would look like when he was sleeping. What else John did in this bed. What John would look like when his eyes slipped shut, hand sliding down underneath his pants as he gasped and moaned quietly, trying to make as little noise as possible. What Jim could do to John in this bed. Ohh, a shudder wracked through him at the thought, and he had to stand up again before the temptation became too great. As aroused as he was by the thought of pleasuring himself in the very same bed that John slept in every night, he absolutely could not leave any evidence behind that he’d been here and if things went well, he wouldn’t have to imagine what he’d do to John in that bed anymore. He crossed to the dresser, opening each drawer and touching all of John’s clothes, delighted when he could pick out the items he’d seen on John before. He lingered over his pants drawer, admiring the bright colors that John evidently hid under his jeans. Did it give John a thrill, to walk around wearing something that could be considered exotic when no one else knew he had it on? He had to pull himself away, resisting the urge to take a pair as a souvenir, and closed the drawer again before finding the one temptation he couldn’t resist. There was a hamper of dirty clothes next to the dresser, and in it was one of John’s jumpers, a lovely one that Jim had seen him in several times. He’d only intended to look at it when he picked it up, but wound up pressing it to his nose and huffing it like an addict because god, it was absolutely saturated with John’s scent. No, this was it. He had to take this. He had to at least have something to show for this visit, and this was it. He needed it. Later that day found him curled up in his bed with his headphones on, John’s jumper bunched up in his arms with his nose pressed into it, the scent having managed to lull him to sleep. John would undoubtedly notice it was missing, but that was alright. He’d assume it somehow got lost in the washing, or he left it at school, or that it was somewhere in his room and he just couldn’t find it. He would never think that Jim had snuck into his house and stolen it, because that seemed crazy. Jim was a nice kid, a genius, a friend, why would he do something like that? Never mind the fact that Jim spent a good chunk of his time now getting high off of John’s scent while thinking about John, his brain circling around and around as he tried to gather the courage to make a move. Finally, it was the jumper that did it. It had started to lose its scent, away from its lovely owner for too long, and Jim simply couldn’t go without John’s scent and couldn’t steal another one. He needed more of it, needed more of John, needed all of him. And now. It was the push he needed to finally, finally ask John, “Will you go out with me?” And John had smiled, and said almost instantly, “I’d love to. * “Johnny boy,” Jim purred, taking a step towards him as John continued forward, as much as his instincts were screaming for him to run. “I’ve been looking for you.” His gaze stayed fixed on John even as he asked Seb, “Where were you?” “Finishing off the last of the teachers,” Sebastian answered, positioning himself off to the side with Sherlock in front of him, the gun still firmly pressed to the back of the other teen’s nest of raven curls. The corners of Jim’s mouth lifted into something terrifying that John loathed to consider a smile. His steps to Jim faltered slightly and the smile-grimace-whatever-it-was disappeared instantly, Jim’s gaze turning darker. “John,” he said, just a slight warning, and John somehow managed to close the last of the distance between them. Instantly Jim’s demeanor changed, a pleased, nearly delighted smile popping back onto his lips as he stepped close to John, his hand slowly going to John’s hip as he gently nuzzled the blonde’s neck, as if he was afraid of scaring him away. And meanwhile, the gun in his hand was fully within John’s line of sight, close enough for him to reach even though he didn’t dare. “Oh, Johnny boy,” Jim breathed, breath ghosting along John’s collarbone and leaving goosebumps in its wake. He made a happy noise, breathing in deeply at the juncture between John’s neck and shoulder. “I missed you.” His fingertips slipped under the edge of John’s t-shirt, cold fingers pressing lightly against his warm skin. Suddenly he pulled entirely away from John, commanding, “Turn around.” John obeyed, turning so that once again he could see Sherlock, pinned in place by Seb’s gun and staring intently at the scene before him. The scene in which Jim was currently wrapping his free arm around John’s waist, pulling the teen backwards, flush against him. John winced slightly at the contact, his eyes staying locked on Sherlock’s, an anchor for his heart in the flood that was about to come. Jim’s lips traveled up the back of his neck before his entire body molded against John’s, chest pressed to his back, arm tightly around his waist and his hips pressed completely against him. He could feel Jim’s breath along his neck and shoulders and then his ear as the brunette whispered, “You’ve been bad, Johnny boy.” He shivered at that, and Jim’s arm around his waist tightened slightly. “You hurt me. Abandoned me for Sherrrrlock.” The ‘ck’ was pronounced and then Jim’s chin was on John’s shoulder as he looked at Sherlock. “How should we kill him, love? Quick bullet to the head? Or let him bleed out and suffer?” His voice was loud enough for Sherlock to hear, now, and though the other teen was doing a good job of hiding it John could see the fear that had set itself in his pale jade irises. John nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt the cold touch of metal against his side, Jim’s gun slipping underneath his shirt to glide along his hip and waist. “Come on, talk to me,” Jim murmured, his voice dropped into an almost soothing tone, a madman’s hush. “Let me hear that pretty voice, John.” It took John a few minutes to find his voice, having to first coax it down from the deeply hidden place it’d flown to in terror. Finally, he managed to get out, “J-Jim…” “Oh I love it when you say my name, John,” Jim groaned softly, pressing a kiss to the shell of John’s ear. “Keep going, come on, for Daddy.” John closed his eyes for a second, taking in a shuddering breath before opening them again to reconnect with Sherlock’s gaze. Sherlock’s beautiful, heartbreaking, all important gaze. “Please tell me…” Jim waited patiently, silent while John strung words together though the muzzle of his gun was tracing circles on John’s side “…that you didn’t do this for me.” The giggle from Jim in response made his eyes slip shut again leadenly. Oh god. “I wouldn’t say it was for you, Johnny boy. More that you were the inspiration. My muse.” He kissed John’s cheek. “My beautiful muse.” He hummed happily for a moment, nuzzling John’s neck and breathing in his scent deeply, waiting for John’s eyes to open again before saying, “You never answered my question, pet. How should we kill him?” “Please, Jim…” “Now now, no need for theatrics, love. It’s quite simple. He stole from me. He’s going to die for it.” A hint of something far too clever entered his voice. “However…” John found his hands being manipulated and before he knew it, his fingers were wrapped around the gun and Jim was holding his hands in place with his own, carefully controlling John’s grip on the gun so there would be no firing unless he said so and no way John could break away with it. Jim pressed up against him again, and John could feel the other teen’s arousal. God, of course he was getting off on this, the danger and sadism and being pressed this close to John all creating a cocktail somewhere between lust and adrenaline. “You kill him,” Jim breathed in his ear, and his heart stopped, Sherlock’s eyes going wide. “Kill him, Johnny boy, and you can make it out of here alive, without even a single scratch on you.” “And what’s my other option?” John asked immediately, his hands shaking on the gun slightly. Jim giggled. “Well, dearest, then I can take every single one of your transgressions out on that pretty flesh of yours however I feel like taking it. And right now I’m feeling especially creative. And Sherlock will die anyway. Maybe I’ll drag it out. It’s no fun when they die instantly, is it Seb?” Seb shook his head with the hint of a smile drawing up a corner of his lip. “So what’ll it be, Johnny?” “Do it, John,” Sherlock said instantly, and John was amazed that he managed to keep his voice flat, even. “He’s going to kill me anyway and this way you’ll get out of here alive.” John shook his head slightly. “You don’t know that,” he said, something raw scratching at his throat. “He could be lying, and then I’ll have your blood on my hands for nothing.” “When have I ever lied to you, Johnny boy?” Jim asked, a touch of a pout in his voice. “Oh, I know what I’ll do,” he said in a suddenly much more pleased tone. “I’ll make him watch. As I take you apart, tear you down to your very bones. As I mark every single tiny inch of your flesh as mine again. As I make sure that no one ever touches what’s mine again.” His lips trailed up the shell of John’s ear, curved up into a smile, and he raised his voice slightly. “Doesn’t that sound like fun, Sherlock?” “John,” Sherlock said, drawing all of John’s focus back to him in a second, and John’s heart nearly gave up entirely when he saw the slightest hints of pleading in his otherwise passive expression. “Do it. You’re only delaying the inevitable.” John bit his lip to keep himself from crying, shaking his head slightly. “Sherlock, I—” He broke off, shaking his head again as a few tears started to fall. “Need a decision, dear,” Jim said lightly, one of his thumbs stroking the back of his hand, and after a tense minute of silence John shook his head, lowering his arms as best he could. “No,” he said. “I can’t. I won’t.” Sherlock’s eyes slipped shut at the same time as Jim kissed John’s cheek enthusiastically. “Oh, you always know what I want, don’t you, Johnny?” he purred, nuzzling against John’s ear. “It would’ve been so hard for me to keep my hands off of you if you killed Sherlock.” He took control of the gun again, John’s hands kept pliant by the unstated reminder of the gun to the back of Sherlock’s head, and wrapped an arm around John’s waist. The gun returned under his shirt after a few moments as a stand-in for Jim’s hands, trailing up to the ribcage John’s heart was trying to pound out of. Jim might have been high off of John at the moment, but that didn’t mean he was stupid enough to put the gun down for even a second. John could barely even feel the touch of the cool metal, however, as all of his attention was focused on Sherlock, whose eyes were still closed as if he could block out this entire situation if he tried hard enough. “Now, where should we start, love? What do you think would hurt our dear Sherlock the most? Hmm? Or maybe,” he said, voice slipping into something almost seductive, “we should work up to it. Start off slow and build to the worst. What do you think, dearest?” John found his own eyes closing, exhaustion washing over him in a wave. “The police are bound to be on their way soon, Jim, someone must have called 999.” His eyes flew open again at the touch of a warm and wet tongue to his ear before Jim said, “They’re going to find it pretty hard to do that with all of the phone lines disabled. And as for mobiles, well, no one can ever get a signal in this school anyway, can they?” He buried his face in the hair at the back of John’s head, breathing in deeply. “So,” he continued, voice slightly muffled, “you still haven’t picked the game we’re going to play, Johnny boy.” “Please…Jim…” John tried weakly, and there was a pause as he took a shaky breath. “Please don’t do this…I’m so sorry…” “You’re not SORRY!” John flinched at the sudden shout, opening his eyes to find that Sherlock’s were open as well. He barely had time to contemplate it as Jim’s voice was in his ear, low, quick, dangerous. “We both know you left me, abandoned me, BETRAYED me. And for what, John? A pretty little genius sociopath? What does he have—” here he pressed closer to John, holding him with the arm across his waist nearly tight enough to hurt “—that I don’t? You were so happy with me, Johnny boy,” he said, the last sentence dropping into a whine. His mood had changed at least three times in the past minute and John was having trouble keeping track. “I made you happy. And I needed you. Need you. But you don’t want me…” The end trailed off miserably, and if Jim hadn’t just murdered most of the school and wasn’t currently holding both Sherlock and John hostage, he would have felt sorry for him. Instead, inspiration struck. “Jim,” he started softly, the fingertips of one hand just lightly brushing against the arm around his waist. When no reaction was forthcoming, he continued, beginning to draw light, soothing circles on Jim’s arm. He could nearly feel Jim holding his breath. “Jim,” he repeated after a minute, the name a soft sigh accompanied by a slight press of his hips back. A soft noise that might have been a whimper came from the other teen. “You do make me happy…and I still—” he paused, corrected himself “—I will always want you.” Jim’s nose buried itself in the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply. “I need you, Jim.” This point was emphasized by another press of his hips back, a little more forceful this time, and Jim groaned softly. Time to really sell this. His head was already turned about as much as it could, which wasn’t saying much because Jim’s position was blocking him from actually seeing his former boyfriend, as much as he knew eye contact would help him with this. “I love you.” And Jim shivered, pressing his entire body as close to John’s as he could, still breathing in his scent, the hand and the gun with it currently pressed against his hip. “John,” he breathed, and it sounded more desperate than anything. If John hadn’t already turned away from Sherlock he would have had to do it now, knowing one look into the other’s eyes could bring this entire thing crashing down in a second. “I want to make it up to you,” John breathed right back, his voice a delicate balance of apologetic and remorseful, with just a touch of enticement that grew into a layer with his next words. “How would you like me to?” At that Jim groaned, spinning John around to kiss him, the hand with the gun sliding up to cup his face as best it could. John kissed back with all he had, all he could manage, trying to pretend that this was just like it used to be, back when Jim wasn’t a psychopath and he wasn’t a hostage. He only had to hold on for so long, however, as there was a thud, a shout, and a shot from behind him, and then quite suddenly Jim had him turned around again, an arm back around his waist and the gun pressed to his temple. It took John a few seconds to realize that Sherlock was alone, now, pointing Seb’s gun at Jim as Sebastian lay on the ground, bleeding from a hole in his chest. Even though there was a gun pressed to his head relief fluttered in John’s chest, faith in Sherlock overcoming the fear of Jim. “Let him go, Jim,” Sherlock said, and his voice was remarkably calm for the situation at hand. “We both know you’re not going to kill him.” “Not kill him, no,” Jim said smoothly, and laid a soft kiss on John’s cheek, his next words whispered just for John. “No, Johnny boy, I want you to live. I’m going to mark you, and I want you to live so that every time you look at that mark, every time you see it, you think of me. I will always be there, John, a brand of possession on your body, and a ghost in your soul. Sherlock may have you a year, two, five, ten, who knows from now, but he won’t have you like I do. Because no matter what you do, I will always be with you.” “Jim, what are you—” He never got all of the words out because suddenly there was pain exploding in his left shoulder as Jim pressed the gun down and shot him, the bullet going through him and straight into Jim’s chest. He fell forward, Jim releasing him, and a second shot rang out—from who he didn’t know—and Jim’s body joined him in a moment, eyes open, sightless, dead. “John!” Surely that was Sherlock shouting his name. That had to be. He knew that. But everything was rapidly going darker under the pain, sounds coming from under water while sensations were white hot. He was aware of a touch on his arm, of someone rolling him onto his back, of a flash of blue-green eyes, and then he was gone. * “You’re a prat,” John said, though he was smiling as he said it and Sherlock was hanging above him, smiling at him with his weight braced on the hands that were on either side of John’s head on the bed. “Your prat,” Sherlock reminded, and John pretended to sigh about it. “Yes, my prat,” he said, unable to help the smile on his features when Sherlock bore a twin one. “I must have been mad, voluntarily choosing to be with you.” Sherlock chuckled, and John loved the way that his baritone rumbled in his chest when he spoke. “There’s a fine line between genius and insanity, John, and I believe your decision lies in the former category.” This was lovely. Wonderful. Another day of domestic bliss, in the flat that they’d found together, that they’d moved into together, that they’d stayed in love in together. Sherlock had managed to pester Scotland Yard until they let him consult on cases, ever the brilliant detective with his not so brilliant blogger in tow. Though, John was a doctor now, and he was happy with that, happy with Sherlock. Happier than he’d ever been, really. “Yeah, the jury’s still out on that one,” he responded to Sherlock, and the detective shook his head with a grin and swooped down to kiss along John’s collarbone from shoulder to—oh. Shoulder. Sherlock’s lips paused at the scar on John’s left shoulder, a sort of solemn hush falling over the room. John tried to quiet the sudden increase in his pulse, but it was hard when he just kept hearing the same words over and over again in his head before the sound of a gunshot. “Because no matter what you do, I will always be with you.” Sherlock looked up at him, seeing the change in his eyes and instantly deducing John’s thoughts. “He’s gone, John,” he said quietly, and John nodded his head. “I know,” he said. This was a routine that they’d done dozens of times, though a lot of times they just skipped past it and ignored the slightly sick feeling they both felt upon seeing John’s scar. He wanted to shake it off again. He wanted to be able to shake it off every time, but it was so hard when PTSD had followed him his entire life and a constant reminder of him lived on his skin. He forcefully pulled himself out of the past, attempting a smile and saying, “Weren’t we talking about my insanity?” Sherlock managed a smile back, though they both knew it was forced. “You mean your genius,” he said, and John chuckled. “You’re my genius,” he said, affectionately carding his fingers through some of Sherlock’s curls. And Sherlock kissed him, and somehow they managed to work their way back to alright, as they always did. No matter the dark places John went, he always managed to find his way back to Sherlock in the end. But Jim had been right. No matter what he did, he couldn’t shake off his ghost. He would always, in some way, belong to Jim.
1078708	little orphan boy	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Felix (Once Upon a Time), Peter Pan (Once Upon a Time)", "Fandom": "Once Upon a Time (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by orphan_account", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-12-11T00:00:00", "words": "372", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "the Echo Cave 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 }	You don’t remember how old you were when you were taken – saved from that shit hole of a town but you know you were young, younger than most of the boys who come to the island now. You remember this. You were an orphan and you were neglected. You lived on the streets – hence the title street rat – and you were hungry and cold and so scared some days that thinking back to it now makes you choke with anger and hate. Anger at all the adults who wouldn’t dare spare a glance other than to sneer at the dirty little orphan boy who hadn’t enough sense to die the previous winter. Hate at yourself for still being hurt enough to be angry at people long dead in a town long deserted.You were saved in the dead of night. It was snowing and you were so cold despite being bundled up in a pile of discarded ratted cloth that you thought that this was how you would die – huddled in the back of some dark alleyway, hoping that no one would chase you away for the night.You had been waiting for sleep to claim you but instead had thought that death had gotten you first when you saw the Shadow.You were terrified, obviously. Even to a child, there is nothing natural about a shadow absent of a body and you had thought that the reaper had finally come to take you to the Maker. “Come away with me,” it said and you wanted to beg no, I don’t want to die.But then you thought about it. Thought about how the cold invaded your flesh and wormed its way into your bones. Thought about how hungry you would be tomorrow – how hungry you would be the day after. Thought about how no one in this town cared if you lived or died and that no one to mourn you if you went.You took its hand then and thought, maybe it’ll be peaceful.Sometimes you like to think that you did die that cold winter night and that Neverland is your own version of the afterlife.It would be fitting you suppose. After all, Peter Pan is your god.
1092529	Moving on	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Mark Latimer, Beth Latimer", "Fandom": "Broadchurch", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by demurely1", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-12-21T00:00:00", "words": "535", "Additional Tags": "Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Confessions", "Relationship": "Beth Latimer/Mark Latimer", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "Gen, F/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	I don’t wanna move on. We move on, we leave Danny behind. Please Mark, don’t make me! Mark’s heart lurched at Beth’s plea. Automatically he opened his arms and stepped towards her.“Come here,” he murmured, his voice catching in his throat.For the first time in weeks she accepted his offer and let him fold her in his arms. She sobbed against his chest, while he stroked her back gently and pressed his lips against her hair.“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I know it’s painful to even think about.” He fought back his own tears, until he gave in and crumpled onto her shoulder, nuzzling her neck and breathing in her scent again.After a few moments Beth felt him sigh and raise his head, as if he were reinvigorated. She snaked her arms around him and pressed her lips to his chest through his unbuttoned shirt.Mark smiled wryly and leaned back to look at her, surprised by her reaction. “What do you think I should do, Beth? What should we do?” he asked, trying a different approach. “I don’t think we can just talk to each other. It’s too painful. It’s too painful to say how I feel and it’s too painful for me to see how that makes you feel.”She lifted her head up look at him again, grimacing to blink away the tears. Her arms and her body were still pressed tight to him, giving him the confidence to continue.“I need to talk to someone, Beth. I think you do too.” His hands held her shoulders, as his thumbs stroked her gently.She breathed in deeply, as if summoning the courage to speak aloud.Mark looked steadily into her eyes, willing her to respond.“Paul,” she volunteered, at last. “I’ve spoken to Paul Coates a few times,” she went on, seeing his confusion. “He’s nice and he listens and I always seem to feel a bit better afterwards, even if I don’t like what he says.” She looked up at him warily, unsure how he would react.Mark absorbed the revelation calmly, then pulled out a dining chair and sat down with a sigh. “Tell me about it,” he invited, drawing her onto his lap. She got comfortable resting an arm around his neck, and half-smiled down into his eyes.Beth slowly recounted various conversations she’d had with Paul since Danny’s death, while Mark just listened in stunned silence, his hands still holding on to her. He felt unable to let go, after waiting for so long to comfort her.“I thought you’d only talked about a possible memorial service,” he eventually remarked, eyes wide.“We did. But he also didn’t mind if I got angry, about Danny or myself or ….. that woman..” She watched his face anxiously, as he made sense of what she was saying. “I was going to try and see him this morning…” she added, holding his gaze, “…because of the scan.”“The scan?”“I’m supposed to go for the twelve week scan today,” she confessed. “But I don’t want to.”Masking his alarm, Mark looked back at her and squeezed her tight. “Give him a call. Let’s see if he can see us.”
1037190	we brushed our hands	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Erik Lehnsherr, Charles Xavier", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by thisismydesignn", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-11-09T00:00:00", "words": "1,621", "Additional Tags": "Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Alternate Universe, Library Sex", "Relationship": "Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom, X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - 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 }	Charles hears the library door open, but he doesn’t turn around. Doesn’t need to; he may stay out of Erik’s thoughts, but the other man leaves an impression, an imprint on his mind that never quite disappears. This time, though, there’s a tension in the air, something that’s lingered unsaid between them for far too long.“I don’t know how I could’ve been so ignorant about myself, so…” Charles finally turns to look at Erik, needing to see his face as he finishes, “So stupid.” If anyone should know himself, it’s me, he continues in his mind; he doesn’t mean to project, but when Erik takes a step forward, halting, uncertain, Charles knows he heard.“You do know what I’m talking about, don’t you?” he asks, aloud this time, and emotion that isn’t his own flares somewhere in the back of his mind. “You knew before I did.” The realization sparks something in him, and he feels a tear slide down his cheek, out of his control. Shutting his eyes, Charles moves to turn away, but he’s frozen when Erik finally, finally speaks aloud. “Why are you crying?”Charles fixes him with a disbelieving gaze, voice breaking on a whisper as he asks, “Don’t you know?”His desperation breaks something within Erik, tearing down his last semblance of resistance, and he’s crossing the distance between them before he can stop to think. “Yes, I know exactly—” and then he’s finished speaking altogether, capturing Charles’ lips, feeling them open beneath his own, and it’s like he can finally breathe again.The kiss lasts only a few moments, overwhelming them both; when they part, they still cling to one another, unwilling to let go. Their eyes meet, and then Erik is pressing Charles back into the bookcase, kissing him more deeply than before, lifting him up against one of the shelves and fitting himself between Charles’ spread legs. One of Charles’ hands fists in Erik’s sweater as the other comes up to curl around the rungs of the ladder at his side, unconsciously steadying himself as he kisses back, insatiable. Erik’s lips are insistent against his own, and Charles can no longer tell where his desire ends and Erik’s begins. Physically, it’s overwhelming— Erik’s tongue tracing his own, teeth around his lower lip, breath hot between their mouths— but mentally, it’s oddly peaceful, arousal blotting out every coherent thought until all that remains is the press of Erik’s body and the sounds that escape his lips.Slipping a hand between them, Charles tries unsuccessfully to unbuckle Erik’s belt. Erik makes a noise of frustration and does it himself with a twitch of his wrist, using the metal of the zipper to push his pants to his knees. He pulls back to set Charles down, help him tug his own trousers off completely, tossing them aside and returning to his place between Charles’ legs as though he can’t stand to be apart for a moment longer.Their lips find each other once more, but this time, a question in Erik’s mind tugs at the edge of Charles’. He says yes without words, feeling Erik’s lips curve into a smile against his own.Charles drags himself away for the briefest of moments to take Erik’s hand and suck two fingers into his mouth, getting them as wet as possible. The action is so uncharacteristic that he can’t help but blush, though Erik’s groan sends a different flush altogether through his body.Erik’s hand slips between his legs; he trails wet fingers over Charles’ cock, around his hips and the curve of his ass to press against his entrance, gentle but determined pressure. Charles forces himself to ease into it and feels Erik respond, pressing in all too quickly— and too slow, at once. He winces, but Erik’s at the edge of his consciousness again, telling him to relax. With effort, Charles manages to do so, and soon Erik’s hand is flush against him, fingers so deep that all Charles can do is gasp and hold on.It’s nowhere near enough, but the desperation, the heat in the air steals any sense of reason. It feels like only moments until Erik’s fingers are replaced by his cock, the blunt press of the head to Charles’ entrance drawing moans from both men. Then he’s inside and Charles stops breathing, heart in his throat, unable to speak, until—“Erik.”The sound of his voice in the otherwise quiet library is startling to them both. Legs trembling with the effort of holding still, Erik meets his gaze, responds with a simple, “Charles.”He can hardly think, but knows what’s coming before he says it.“I love you.”Erik’s never said it— never trusted anyone enough, never let himself— but the words spill forward out of his control, “I love you,” and as he says them he knows they’re true.He feels Charles tighten around him and pulls back just enough to thrust shallowly into his body, searching for that place inside that will make Charles weak, and that’s new, too: the first time he’s put someone else’s pleasure ahead of his own.On the third thrust, he finds it. He hears, feels Charles’ moan all throughout his body, the way his legs go slack and moments later wrap tightly around his waist, wanting more.Erik can thrust more deeply now, and he aims for that spot each time, nearly as thrilled by Charles’ frantic moans as the impossible friction around his cock. He’s close, so close already, but he wants Charles to come first, wants to see him come undone.He gets more than he bargained for.Working a hand between their bodies, Erik circles his fingers around Charles’ cock, murmuring indistinct encouragement. Charles clings to him more tightly, caught between Erik’s cock and his fist, thrusting down as best he can from his precarious position against the shelves. Then Erik’s thumb catches under the head just as he thrusts more deeply than before, pleasure spiking through Charles’ body and spilling over before he even has a chance to catch his breath.No distinct thoughts cross his mind, nothing coherent or logical, just an explosion of light and warmth and then Erik is coming too, helpless to hold himself together as Charles trembles, falls apart all around him.They stay pressed together for as long as they can, Erik’s breath stuttering over the sweat-slick skin of Charles’ neck, making them both shiver through the aftershocks. When he can’t hold him up any longer, Erik takes a step back, hands still wrapped around the backs of Charles’ thighs as he lets him down gently. They both wince as his cock slips out too quickly, leaving an emptiness that seems to echo in the silence between them. Charles won’t quite look him in the eye, and though he’d never admit it, Erik is terrified to speak first.Then he feels Charles’ thoughts creeping into his own, asking permission, and Erik recognizes the spark of Charles’ happiness better than he knows his own.“That’s cheating,” he murmurs, and Charles’ laughter doesn’t ring out just in his mind. It’s a welcome sound, and Erik can’t help but crush Charles’ body to his own once more, kissing him like he can’t get enough.(He can’t.)“We’re a mess,” Charles observes astutely when they finally manage to disentangle themselves from one another, taking in Erik’s disheveled hair, pants still around his knees, sweater ruined, knowing he himself must look even worse. “Should probably get cleaned up before the kids see us like this,” and Erik is right there already, eyebrows raised in amusement as he hands him his briefs, trousers hovering expectantly beside them.Charles tugs his clothes on as Erik attempts to put himself back together. Slightly more confident in his appearance, he turns to look at Charles, and barely knows what he’s doing as he opens his mouth to ask, “Is it always like that with you?”Charles doesn’t answer right away, tugging at the edge of his shirt; when he’s finally satisfied, he starts to turn toward Erik, but still won’t quite meet his gaze. “You mean the—” he gestures vaguely toward his head but doesn’t wait for an answer, letting out a weak laugh. “No. That’s never happened before. Only with you.” His eyes finally lock with Erik’s, and the taller man is taking steps toward him once again before he even realizes he’s moving. He only stops when they’re inches apart, lips nearly brushing as Charles repeats in a whisper, “Only you.”And Erik thinks he’d be happy just to breathe Charles’ air for the rest of his life, standing too close as he looks him in the eye and feels his breath on his lips, but then Charles is kissing him again and oh, that’s so much better.There’s more breathless laughter when they break apart, a flush in Charles’ cheeks as he cards a hand through his newly wrecked hair. “We’re never going to leave this library, are we?” he wonders aloud, and grins as Erik murmurs, “I think I’d be alright with that.”“A bed might be nice at some point,” Charles points out, satisfying himself with one final chaste kiss and cherishing the groan that rumbles deep in Erik’s chest. Tease echoes in his mind as he turns toward the door, though he counters the thought with oh, but I fully intend to follow through.He doesn’t turn around, but he can feel Erik’s smile in the back of his mind. It brings one to his own face, unbidden, and even as the door shuts behind him, all Charles can see is the brightest corner of his memory system, shining just a bit brighter than before.
1005420	Fragility	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov, Thor (Marvel)", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by FanficFixation", "chapters": "5/10", "completed": "", "published": "2013-10-15T00:00:00", "words": "15,892", "Additional Tags": "Illness, Friendship, Tony Stark Feels, Arc Reactor", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Tony Stark couldn't help but wince internally as he exited the Heli-carrier alongside his teammates. After another long and lengthy meeting with the rather irritable director Fury, the group were finally free to leave and were currently weaving in and out of the many busy Shield agents working around them. The billionaire could barely suppress his discomfort as he brushed shoulders with complete strangers.Usually crowds didn't bother him but the place was like a busy hive of activity, he shuddered as his ears detected the sound of coughing and sniffing, loud enough to be heard over the buzzing of machinery and chatter amongst workers; it was enough to make him cringe. Loud splutters and sneezes seemed to come from almost every direction, and Stark felt closed in. No matter where he went or how fast he walked the noise seemed to follow him and it was starting to make him feel agitated.The mechanic strolled quickly down another long narrow corridor, leaving the rest of the team lagging behind. He was quite eager to leave the place as quickly as possible, after all he didn't want to stay in the germ infested zone longer then he had too.Winter was on its way and it seemed that almost everyone was plagued with the common cold. A cold was nothing serious, just uncomfortable and mildly irritating, but the billionaire was determined to avoid it.Each time someone sick passed by him he wrinkled his nose in disgust and turned his head the other way. It seemed like an eternity had passed before the group had finally set foot out of headquarters and finally boarded a jet back to the tower. The moment the doors closed for take-off Stark plucked a small bottle of hand sanitizer from his jacket pocket and squirted a generous amount into the palm of his hands before rubbing them together vigorously.'Ughhh I feel so dirty!' he whined, shaking the excess gel from his hands.'What's the matter, don't like interacting with us common folk?' Steve joked, taking a seat by the window.'I swear that place has the plague! We are not going back there again; ever!' he proclaimed, sitting down in the last empty seat next to Bruce he shrugged off his jacket, 'when we get back, I'm burning all my clothes.''Friend Stark, what is this plague you speak of?' Thor's loud voice echoed in the small space, everyone grimaced, resisting the urge to cover their ears, 'everyone appeared to be in fine spirits!''You're joking right?' Tony looked at the demi god incredulously, 'Don't tell me you didn't hear everyone practically dying in there!' he exclaimed. 'I swear I heard one guy coughing up a lung!''Didn't have you down as a germaphobe' the physicist beside him smiled briefly before turning his attention back to the science magazine in his hands.'I am not a –'Suddenly the sound of a loud sneeze pierced the air, Tony jumped in surprise becoming wide eyed and alert. He ducked in his seat and reached into his pocket again for the sanitizer bottle when a loud laugh caught his attention. He looked up to see Clint Barton lounging over the back of the seat in front of him, cackling with laughter, only then did the playboy realise that it was a fake sneeze he had heard. He growled angrily when he caught sight of a smiling Romanov beside the archer; barley able to contain her own amusement.'Oh real funny Barton,' Tony snapped, crossing his arms stubbornly he kicked the back of the assassins seat in a childish huff.'What's the matter Stark, scared of a few little germs?' Clint wheezed between laughs.'Only when its bird flu!' he hissed, glaring daggers at the archer, who only proceeded to laugh even harder.Eventually Clint's laughter slowly died down, he breathed deeply for a moment before wiping a tear from his eye.'You humans are most amusing when you jest!' Thor's laughed, twirling Mjolna in one hand.'Pansy,' the assassin teased and began fake coughing dramatically.'Shut up bird brain,' Stark grumbled, swatting a hand at the archers head.'Whoa! Don't get too close, you might get infected!''I swear Barton, I will stick one of your arrows so far up your as-''Stark!' Steve scolded.The genius gave Clint the middle finger before sighing in annoyance.'Children, play nicely…' Bruce looked up over the rim of his glasses; although he looked stern there was a hint of amusement visible on his face.Tony shifted in his seat to face Bruce before pulling out his Stark phone, the genius began tapping away with quick, nimble fingers, 'I build you all your own apartments and this is how you repay me.''I mean them-' Stark gestured towards the two shield agents, demi god and blonde super soldier, 'I understand, but you!' he pointed at Bruce, 'are supposed to be on my side!'The physicist met the billionaires pouting look with an amused smile.'Well I was, until there was an incident with my wardrobe last week.''I have no idea what you're talking about…''Really? All my clothes were replaced with green ones, and that had nothing to do with you?' Banner raised an eyebrow at his lab partner in disbelief.'Didn't hear you complaining when I brought you that green shirt yesterday,' the philanthropist retorted.'How come you never buy us clothes?' the archer asked sulkily.'Because you guys are assholes,' he muttered.'Better believe it princess,' Clint smirked, ruffling the billionaire's hair, Tony slapped his hands away.'We'll see who the real princess is when I show everyone that photo…' the genius smirked.'You wouldn't,' Barton paled, edging forward on his seat, knowing exactly which photo the man was referring too.'Jarvis, ready the photo if you would…''Of course sir,' the AI's voice sounded from Tony's Stark phone, 'am I to assume you are referring to the photograph of agent Barton wearing women's clothi-''Shut up!' Clint yelled, flapping his arms around.'What on earth are you talking about?' Steve raised a brow in confusion.'Something you want to tell us Clint?' Bruce smiled slyly, amused as the archer became flustered.'I was drunk and it was one time!''I am must curious to hear this tale!' the Asgardian bellowed.'Oh god...' Natasha groaned, rubbing her hand with one hand.'Would you like me to project the image sir?' Jarvis enquired.'Yea-''No!'Clint dived over his chair and made a grab for the phone, only to miss and dive head first into Tony's lap. They both wriggled and wrestled in the small space and soon the previous conversation was completely forgotten.It was nearly 4am before Tony reluctantly retired to bed for the evening. He'd spent a large part of the afternoon alternating between tinkering with his suit and drinking like a fish. Bruce had thrown the towel in many hours earlier, leaving him to work alone until the early hours of the morning. It was only when the billionaire's vision began to blur and he started seeing double that he finally gave in to the need for sleep. He was unsure whether the effects were from fatigue or alcohol but he knew it would be better to throw in the towel before he had an accident, after all he'd come close to burning off his eyebrows with a blow torch.He shut down the lab and slowly plodded down the large hallway and into the spacious elevator. When he finally reached his room he quickly discarded his shirt and pants on the floor, leaving him in just his black boxer shorts.He climbed into his luxurious king sized bed with a sigh. The sheets were pleasantly soft and the pillows plump, but no matter how hard he tried Tony could not get comfortable. There was one thing missing from the bed that was keeping him awake at present.Pepper.The cold, empty spot beside him was a painful reminder that he would be sleeping alone for the next few nights. He hated it when the strawberry blonde was away on business; time seemed to go much slower in her absence. He'd grown so accustomed to sharing such intimacy with her that he found it embarrassingly difficult to sleep without her. One of the few things that allowed him to drift off into unconsciousness without being plagued by nightmares was Peppers presence alone; the feeling of her warm body pressed against his own was like a strong shield which allowed him to feel safe and comfortable.Tony rolled over and let out a huff, as much as he craved the feeling of her soft, dainty fingers running through his hair he knew that no amount of wishful thinking would make the CEO magically appear beside him. The genius lay still for what felt like hours until eventually he began to drift off.Just as he began to doze the playboy was aware of a prickly sensation in his throat. He tried to cough it away and felt a slight heaviness in his chest. Probably the alcohol he mused, he had no doubt he would be suffering from a hangover of sorts in the morning. He closed his eyes and drifted into an uncomfortable sleep.When Tony Stark awoke the next morning he felt truly awful.The moment he opened his eyes he was greeted with the unwelcoming sensation of a pounding headache. Tony had been the victim to many hangovers in his life and could honestly say that this was the worse one yet. It felt like any other aftermath of a nights drinking but with a much sharper edge and dull throb that seemed to constantly hack away at his brain. It felt like he was being punished.The morning sunlight that poured through the windows temporarily blinded him and made his head ache unbearably. Stark rested an arm over his face to shield his delicate eyes from the light as he lay awake in bed, groaning at the aching feeling in his body. The sound of Jarvis's voice echoing loudly in the room only succeeded in reminding him just how delicate his ears were.'Good morning sir, it currently 11am and the temperature is-''Mute,' he muttered tiredly, he stood from his bed and stretched out; groaning as his shoulders popped.Boy did he feel rough.Eventually he dragged himself over to the spacious, on suite shower attached to his apartment, where he stood under the hot cascade of water for several long minutes. When he towelled himself dry he padded over to the mirror and began running his fingers through his short hair in the mirror. He winced as he observed his complexion, he appeared slightly paler than usual and there was a certain unhealthy look about the dark smudges that rested under his eyes.He needed a kick start to the day to get him back on his feet.He dressed quickly, throwing on a random shirt and pair of jeans before heading towards the communal kitchen. The first thing he did when he sat down was swipe a large mug of coffee from the counter in an attempt to rid himself of the horrible feeling he was experiencing. He slumped onto the nearest kitchen stool with a sigh and rested his head in his hands.He took a large gulp and couldn't help but be a little disappointed when the caffeine did nothing to alleviate the itchiness in his throat.'Good morning sleeping beauty.'The sound of Bruce's cheery voice caused him to groan pitifully; he lifted his head and squinted at the scientist, who was currently flicking through the morning paper idly, before resuming staring at the table wearily.'Wow you look like shit.'Before the billionaire could answer the archer with a witty response, his ear drums were almost shattered with Thor's presence.'Good morning friends!'Everyone responded with a mumble or mutter, except Tony who only clutched his head between his hands and whimpered pathetically.'... little quiet please,' the playboy rasped quietly.All heads turned in his direction.'Are you ok?' Bruce was eyeing the billionaire with a subtle look of concern, his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he analysed his drowsy appearance. Stark quickly waved off his unease.'Couldn't be better,' he put on a fake smile before quickly downing the rest of his coffee. Steve pushed a large stack of waffles in front of him but he pushed them away instantly, food was this last thing on his mind right now.'You're not going to eat?' Steve asked, raising a brow as the plate was pushed away.'I'm on a diet,' Stark waved off his comment, yawning loudly.'Does this new diet consist of large consumptions of alcohol?' Natasha smirked knowingly, analysing his body language perfectly.'No idea what you're talking about…'He sat at the table for a moment longer, listening to the conversation around him; however having no desire to join in he pushed himself quickly to his feet, ignoring the stares aimed at him.'I got stuff to work on,' he murmured, swiftly exiting the room.He proceeded down to the lab to begin modifying the thrusters on his suit in an attempt to take his mind off the lethargy he was feeling but it did not provide a great distraction. His brain seemed to be functioning slower than normal, he could calculate the math correctly, but he found himself staring into space every few minutes; it was as if his head was filled with cotton wool.Eventually he gave up, and threw a screwdriver to the floor in frustration. The slight tickle in his throat had increased to a burning sensation and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't concentrate on anything.The threat of illness lingered in his mind.He wasn't sick was he?He couldn't be sick, after all he was Iron Man; one of earth's mightiest superheroes. Although he knew he was just probably paranoid the thought still lingered. Still he took some vitamins and painkillers, just to be safe.Throughout the rest of the day he began to feel slowly worse, his throat became so sore it was difficult to speak and his nose felt stuffy, by mid-afternoon he was so tired he could barely keep his eyes open. He sat in his lab, reclined in an office chair with his eyes shut in an attempt to stop the pounding in his head. He was so out of it that he didn't hear the approach of oncoming footsteps, so he was surprised when felt someone touching his forehead.'Tony?'The unexpected noise and the feeling of cold fingers touching his skin made him jump.'Wah?' he bolted upright, only to smack his head on something hard.'Ow! What the-?'He rubbed his eyes sleepily and blinked owlishly, rubbing his bruising head, only to see a curly haired figure stood above him doing the same thing. The glasses on the man and the purple button up shirt identified him as none other than Bruce Banner.'Not gonna hulk out on me are you?' he joked lightly, his voice slightly husky; he smiled as he watched the man rub his head vigorously.'Maybe, if you keep head butting me,' he muttered, giving the billionaire a pointed look, he continued rubbing his forehead. 'Oh god, why is your head so hard?' he moaned.'coz its full of knowledge,' he smirked cockily.'Well apparently knowledge hurts,' he groaned, stepping back the doctor leaned against the desk behind him, crossing his arms. He couldn't help but smile at Starks come back despite the pain he was in.'Your fault for having cold fingers,' Stark huffed, wheezing slightly.'I'm sorry that the temperature of my fingers doesn't meet your expectations,' Banner said sarcastically.'Good, you should be,' Tony snorted, sitting up from his chair and groaned as he stretched out his back. 'Why were you touching me anyway?' Stark raised a brow, 'can't resist me huh?' he grinned, winking at the doctor.Banner rolled his eyes in response.'I know I'm completely irresistible.''Don't flatter yourself, I was checking your temperature; you look a little flushed,' Bruce eyed the genius with a hard stare, as if analysing him.'Probably the light…''Catching forty winks were we?''I wasn't sleeping I was thinking,' he crossed his arms defensively.'Oh really, thinking with your eyes closed?''Yeah it's this new thing, only genius's do, you should try it sometime.'Bruce shook his head in disbelief.'Right, well when you're finished "thinking",' Bruce uttered sarcastically, 'you should come and get some pizza before Thor eats it all, I think he was on his second box when I came down here…''I'll be up later, I got stuff to work on,' Tony grabbed a spanner from the table in front of him and wandered forwards a few steps before Bruce plucked it from his grip.'Hey!''Tony, you've been down here for hours, you can finish this tomorrow.''Yes mother…''Tony you need to eat.''I will, right after I finish this…'Bruce crossed his arms before giving the billionaire a pointed look.'Ughh fine' Stark sighed, giving in to the man's concern.'But I swear if-' Tony's retort was cut short as he broke into a short coughing fit; Bruce eyed the man with concern.'You alright?''Couldn't be better,' He coughed again, clearing his throat, 'probably the dust, let's go' he rasped, heading for the private elevator.The doctor followed closely behind, Tony pretended he hadn't seen the man eyeing him with concern.Stark reassured himself it was probably just dust aggravating his throat. He coughed again into his hand, grimacing at the burning in his throat; a little cough was nothing to worry about.Or so he thought. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Two days had passed since Tony had first acquired a faint tickle in his throat and an aching in his chest, and by now it was clear that the symptoms he currently experienced certainly were not caused by dust; but of course he kept trying to convince himself that he was just paranoid and that everything was all in his head.He spent all his time in the lab, trying to work through the fatigue and misery he was feeling. What had started off as a slight irritating prickle had developed to a light rattle in his lungs, but the billionaire carried on as normal. He swallowed a few pills, brushed aside his worry and tried to focus on his work; tried being the key word.The playboy constantly felt hot and feverish and found that he had no motivation to work at all despite how much he wanted too. Jarvis had altered the room temperature several times and even turned on the air conditioning but Stark felt no better for it. He could feel sweat lingering on his forehead and his shirt clung to him like a second skin, but nevertheless he continued to labour on stubbornly despite the unpleasant feeling.The mechanic was currently lying on his back, coughing lightly whilst removing parts from an old engine; both hands firmly grasped a pair of strong wire cutters whilst an old screwdriver was gripped between his teeth. As he surveyed the tangle of wires and screws in front of him his vision slowly began to blur. It was only when Stark heard Jarvis address him that he realised he'd been staring into space.'Sir!''What is it J?' the billionaire muttered, dropping his tools he sat up and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.'Sir your temperature has risen to 103 °F, I must insist that you seek medical attention.''Not now Jarvis, kinda busy..''Sir I really must insi-''Mute.'Stark cut off his AI's concern and sighed at in exasperation. He pushed himself upright from the hard, cold floor, steading himself on his desk he wobbled to his feet as he felt his blood rush straight to his head. He groaned at the dizzy sensation he was feeling, and reluctantly stumbled slowly towards the elevator, scuffing his trainers on the floor as his feet dragged lazily across the ground.Perhaps he needed a quick break, just a few minutes to grab something that would reboot his system, and for that he was in need of a strong cup of coffee. To Tony, coffee was the solution to all of life's problems; second to alcohol of course. The billionaire leaned against the cool metal walls behind him and another long cough set him wincing in pain.Maybe getting out of bed this morning hasn't been Stark's best idea.Even after the elevator had stopped and the doors had opened he stood still for a long while, taking advantage of the coolness the metal had to offer on his warm forehead. When he eventually lifted his head away from the cold wall Tony let out a pitiful groan, the unbearable heat returned just as quickly as it had left.He staggered out of the elevator and slowly plodded along the hallway, he squinted his eyes wearily at the bright lights that illuminated the kitchen a short distance away from him, they only succeeded in making his head ache worse.'Jarvis dim the lights' he croaked, sighing in relief when the lights faded to little more than a dull glow.The billionaire reached the kitchen and sighed in relief when he finally collapsed onto the nearest seat available, a stool at the island in the middle of the room. He rested his head in hands before glancing at his expensive wrist watch groggily.20:05.It was 8'oclock already?'Geez, you don't look so hot,' a voice commented, offhandedly.The genius nearly jumped out of his skin, he turn his head in the direction of the voice, when he looked up he was met with the familiar gaze of Clint Barton, who was currently poking his head out of an open vent in the ceiling.'Jesus Christ Barton!' Stark breathed heavily, placing a hand over his heart, 'can't you make a fucking noise?!'The archer jumped down, landing on his feet and shrugged his shoulders. The assassin swiped some drinks from the fridge before taking a seat opposite the billionaire. He placed two cans of soda on the table, sliding one in front of Tony, he frowned as he took in the worn appearance of the man slouched over the table. Tony reached out for the soda and took a small sip, sighing in relief at the pleasant sensation of the cold liquid running down his throat.'You look like shit,' Clint spoke, eyeing the man with concern.Stark looked up and blinked resignedly, but did not grace the assassin with an answer. Instead he took another sip of his drink, for once he was too tired to retort.'Shouldn't you be-''My friends! How do you fair this late evening?!' Clint's words were cut short when a familiar, bulky blond figure entered the room, bellowing loudly.The tone of his voice made Tony's toes curl, he dropped his can to the table and covered his ears with his hands, he swore he could feel his body shaking at the man's loud volume.'Think you could tone is down a little point break?' He mumbled groggily. 'Before the dogs start howling…' Thor frowned at his dishevelled appearance.'My friend, you appear most weary,' the blond now spoke in a much quieter tone.'Relax, he's probably had too many beers,' Romanovs voice came from the doorway; Tony turned to face her and frowned for a moment before rubbing his temples.'There aren't enough beers in the world to make living with you guys more bearable… ' he joked, his voice was croaky. His breathing hitched for a moment as he unsuccessfully tried to hold in another deep cough. Clint smirked, mistaking the sound for Stark choking on his drink.'Careful man, wouldn't want you to choke to death or anything…'Stark kicked the man under the table, his steel toed capped boots successfully collided with the archer's knee, causing his to swear loudly.'Ow! Son of a-''I advise you not to finish that sentence Barton,' Natasha scolded, interrupting him with a glare.'-mother duck,' he finished, wincing as he rubbed his bruising leg.'When I die feather face, I'm gonna haunt you till you crap your pants,' Tony muttered as he rose to his feet.'I'm so scared…' Clint joked, downing the rest of his soda.'My friend, perhaps you in need of a great feast to replenish your energy?' the demi god took care to speak quitter this time.'Food is your answer to everything…' Stark mumbled, wincing at the rising tightness in his chest. Maybe to god was right he mused to himself, he might feel a little better on a full stomach. When was the last time he ate anyway? He couldn't remember, probably a sign he should feed himself.'Fine, pizza it is,' he sighed, 'but you better pick a decent movie, If I have to sit through one more chick flick or cheesy love story I'm kicking you all out.' He spoke slowly, trying to preserve the air in his lungs.Tony picked up his empty can and steadied himself on the table as he slowly dragged himself towards to doorway, tossing the metal in the trash of his way out.'Where are you going?' Romanov asked curiously'To plan my haunting…' he wheezed quietly.The assassin rolled her eyes.'… and talk to the only other sane person living in this tower,' he finished, as he entered the elevator across the hall '… and I'm not talking about Capsicle.'The moment the doors closed he erupted into a fit of hacking and spluttering, finally releasing then tension that had been building up in his lungs.If he could make it through a whole movie without coughing it would be a miracle. When Tony's coughing fit had finally subsided he stepped out of the elevator and headed down to one of the many spacious labs the tower had to offer. His footsteps echoed loudly in the deserted hallway, the only other noise that could be heard was his labored breathing.It was no surprise that the science level of the tower was completely empty, the only two people with access to all labs were Stark himself and of course Bruce. They both had their own private labs but they were rarely ever used, access was completely restricted, allowing him and his science bro to work away to their hearts content without being disturbed.It was ironic that Tony was about to interrupt Bruce and drag him away from his work. As the billionaire neared the sliding doors he took a deep breath and cleared his throat before punching in his security code and stepping inside. The door clicked shut behind him and Tony strode forward quietly, peering around the corner, that's when he spotted the scientist sat at his desk peering down a microscope. Stark smirked when he saw how engrossed he was in his latest project, it was time to have a little fun.Carefully, he took tiny footsteps forward, shuffling quietly against the titled floor until he was just inches away from his lab partner. Holding his breath, he stood right behind his team mate, until he was peering over his shoulder.'Boo,' he whispered.The genius could barely contain his amusement when the physicist nearly jumped out of his skin. He sprung from his chair in shock and turned around sharply, his face relaxed when he saw the mechanic stood behind him.'Tony!' he hissed, letting out a big sigh of relief, he collapsed back into his chair, holding a hand over his racing heart; 'Do you know how dangerous that is!''Oh man your face was priceless!' Stark grinned, his smile only widened when he saw the un-amused glare Bruce sent his way, he broke down into a fit of laughter.'Do you have to do that every time you come in here?' Bruce sighed, 'that is not good for my stress levels Tony.'The scientist only received a hearty laugh in response, despite his annoyance with the other man he couldn't help but crack a smile himself.'Sorry Brucie but you were asking for it,' he wheezed between laughs.'Tony I could have poked my eye out!' he gestured to the long blunt lense of the microscope only to received another chuckle in response.'You're playing with fire Tony.''Bruce, you are about as dangerous as a marshmallow,' he mused, erupting into a deeper laughing fit as he pictured Bruce as an angry green marshmallow.Eventually Stark's laughter subsided to a quiet chuckle; the man stepped forward and patted Bruce on the shoulder and he coughed lightly, all the laughter had really dried out his throat.He took a step forward before pushing the doctor to one side, allowing him to peer down the microscope nosily, he squinted as he glanced down the lens and Bruce's wheelie chair skidded across the floor. The physicist didn't try to prise the billionaire away from his work; instead he let out a groan and began rubbing his forehead.'You know, I swear I had a full head of brown hair before I met you…'Stark shifted his attention away from the scope and back to his science partner; he sat up and tussled the man's hair roughly with his fingertips.'Keep telling yourself that grandpa,' he snorted, he regretting the action almost instantly as he began to choke. The doctor raised a brown in surprise before frowning at the noise coming from his chest.'That doesn't sound good,' he commented offhandedly, eyeing the billionaire with concern.'S-nothing,' he wheezed as he continued wheezing lightly, 'dry throat or something' he croaked, shrugging of the man's concern.'It doesn't sound like nothing,' Bruce watched the man like a hawk; he stood to his feet, 'you're not sick are you?''It's nothing I'm fine,' he insisted as he coughed once more, 'probably allergies or something…''Why don't I believe you?' Banner muttered, frowning as he pushed his chair beneath his desk.'Well you might not believe that,' the mechanic gasped quietly as he got his breath back, '- but believe me when I say there's a pizza upstairs with your name on it.''Don't change the subject Tony; I know your hiding something.''I'm not changing the subject, I'm just saying that I brought you one of those veggie pizza's covered in rabbit food, because I know you like them so mu-,' he rambled, another cough interrupted him at the end of his sentence.He rolled his eyes when he saw Bruce staring at him again. He could see the physicist's fingers twitching by his sides like he was itching to get out his medical bag.'Ughh whatever, I'm hungry come on,' Stark grabbed Banner by the wrist and pulled him from the lab, ignoring the man's protests.'Tony I'm not done yet, what about my work?''You've been down here for hours, you can finish it tomorrow' he mimicked, grinning at the disbelief on Bruce's face. The doctor sighed as they stepped into the elevator, he couldn't take his eyes off his team mate, he was sure he looked paler than usual.'Are you sure you're okay?' he asked, interrupting the silence. Tony turned and offered him a weak smile.'I'm fine Bruce.'He didn't believe the man's words for a second but he let the subject go.'This isn't over you know, I'm watching you Tony,'Stark grinned like a Cheshire cat as the doors closed.'Mmm kinky,' he purred, waggling his eyebrows teasingly, successfully steering the scientist away from the previous topic of conversation.Bruce buried his reddening face in his hands; the man never did miss an opportunity to make a situation awkward. Maybe there was nothing wrong with Tony after all. Just half an hour later a group of superhero's found themselves gathered comfortably around one of Tony Stark's many ridiculously sized television screens. They were lounged around the room comfortably; Clint, Natasha and Steve shared a sofa whilst Tony and Bruce occupied another. Thor was currently occupying an arm chair in the corner of the room; everyone was surprised his large figure fit comfortably in such a small space.The screen was so big, it rivaled that of a cinema's and the sound was loud enough to make the room shake, which was good news for Tony in his current state. Luckily for him everyone's attention was focused on the movie they were watching, Steve and Thor in particular were engrossed in the visual effects.Empty pizza boxes and drinks cans littered the floor around them; Tony had eaten a measly two bites of his pizza before he decided he'd had enough. After the first bite he felt tired and slightly nauseous, he pushed his food to one side and leaned into the back into the smooth leather, trying his best to not to give in to the temptation to cough. Thor has been more than happy to devour the rest of the billionaire's food. Stark pretended not to notice the concerned looks Bruce was sending his way.He wasn't focused on the movie at all.He'd hope it would provide a great distraction but it did not. He felt exhausted and miserable; his eyes stared at the screen blankly, blinking every few seconds. Eventually his weariness grew and he could feel himself drifting off. He shook his head, willing himself to stay awake stubbornly but it was no use. He could feel himself slowly falling asleep, he didn't really want to sleep on the sofa but he had no energy to move himself.His body would probably punish him for his actions in the morning when he woke with a sore back and a stiff neck. But he'd slept in rougher places, he was sure the sofa would be more comfortable then falling asleep at his desk.He shuddered and crossed his arms tightly around himself as he suppressed another cough and tried to rid himself of the goose bumps covering his arms. The mechanic propped his head against the arm of the couch and rested his eyes, as he slipped into heavy doze he forgot about the other people in the room. The sound from the movie soon faded into a distant background noise.Even when the movie was long over he didn't wake to the sound of amused hushed laughter and the group eventually leaving, he didn't even stir when Bruce draped a thick blanket over his shoulders. Everything was dark. He struggled on the brink of consciousness, squinting in the poor light but he could see nothing. The only thing his mind could comprehend was the sound of frantic voices, shouting in a foreign language and loud screams of pain. It was only when he felt a sharp burning in his throat that he realised the screaming voice was his own. A searing pain tore at his chest, he wriggled and squirmed in discomfort but there was something holding him still. He fidgeted, frantically trying to lift his arms and move away but a heavy weight stopped him. There were hands pushing him down and gripping him tightly, there grips bruised him. No matter how much he struggled he couldn't break free. There was another unbearable twinge of pain before he screamed again and everything turned black. The next time he opened his eyes there was still pain, but this time he was greeted with nothing but silence and the presence of a stranger in the corner of the room. He felt so heavy and numb, he tried to sit up but he felt woozy and disoriented. He vision was blurred and his head span as he lifted his head in confusion. He caught sight of a beaker of water on a table next to him, and reached out for the glass, desperately wanting to wet his abused throat but his limbs betrayed him. His arm swung his hand at the glass clumsily in confusion and the beaker fell to the floor. He slowly rolled over to reach out again but came to a stop when a painful tugging stopped him in his tracks. That was when he saw something strange out of the corner of his eye. There was a wire protruding from his bandage covered chest. It was attached to a car battery. Panic began to surge inside of him; he tore off the bloody stained bandages clumsily and tugged at the wire, only to stop when an unidentified man stepped forward. 'I wouldn't do that if I were you,' his unfamiliar accent echoed in the small space. Everything after that was a blur. He barely had time to process anything before strong arms seized him and dragged him away to another room. His arms were pulled behind his back tightly and without warning he was thrown forward into a wall of icy coldness that took his breath away. When he surfaced he caught a quick glimpse of smug looking faces before he was once again submerged into the cold. He could feel the cold temperature hit his lungs, squeezing every last drop of precious oxygen out of him. He needed to get out, but no matter how much he struggled his head never surfaced from the water. His chest ached, he need to breath but there was no air, the man felt himself growing weaker and his body stilled as he ran out of energy. Just as he had succumbed to exhaustion, strong hands gripped his hair and roughly pulled him upright. He coughed and spluttered weakly trying to dispel the water sitting on his lungs when he was pushed down again. There was barely any time for him to inhale a lung full of air before he was pushed under again. Angry muffled shouts above him made his heart beat faster. His body was shivering uncontrollably from the mixture of cold, fear and adrenaline pumping through his battered body. There was another shout before finally he was pulled from the water once more and thrown to the floor painfully, he gasped in desperation. He needed air. 'Sir!'Tony gasped as he awoke shaking and sweating, his shirt clinging to his back. Clumsily pulling himself upright he coughed heavily but a weight in his chest prevented him from breathing clearly. No matter how much he hacked and coughed he couldn't draw in a deep breath, he felt too tired and heavy.In his confusion he couldn't help but panic as he awoke disoriented. He continued to choke and scratch at his throat desperately leaving angry red marks all over his neck. He could hear Jarvis speaking but he wasn't listening, he was too busy freaking out. He pressed a hand again his chest and took a short breath of air before erupting into a fit of painful coughs, which emptied his lungs of every last breath of air. It felt like an elephant was sitting on his chest.When his mind finally caught up with what was going on his pulse quickened dangerously and he was overcome with dread.He couldn't breathe. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Bruce Banner was thoroughly confused when he awoke in the early hours of the morning to the sound of a loud voice frantically calling his name. With a pitiful groan he lifted his head slowly from the soft pillow cushioning his head with a pitiful groan and rubbed his tired eyes before squinting around the room in confusion. He fumbled a hand around his bedside table in the dark, when he found them he put on his glasses clumsily, sliding them up his nose before glancing at the bright red numbers on the digital clock just inches away from his face.4:05 AM.'Dr Banner.'Bruce was only remotely surprised when he realized that it was Jarvis's familiar voice that had been addressing him. He couldn't help but glance at the clock a second time through weary eyes just to check that he wasn't dreaming. Who on earth could want him at such an ungodly hour? The physicist had enough trouble sleeping most nights as it was. Typical, the one night he had managed to fall asleep peacefully without any difficulty and he had been disturbed from his calm slumber.'Dr Banner, I must insist you awaken,' the AI's voice echoed in the silent room.The scientist desperately fought the urge to bury himself deeper into the warm covers, he hoped that it wasn't another late night call from S.H.I.E.L.D asking the team to group together and save the world. A hulk out was the last thing he needed to add to his weary state.'I'm awake...' he mumbled, rubbing his face he let out a loud yawn. If it was Tony waking him to ask for his help on another one of his projects then the doctor was certain that he would have to make a quick trip to the hulk out room.'Doctor, Mr Stark appears to be in distress and requires urgent attention.'Now that definitely caught the doctor's interest.'W-what?!'Bruce quickly sprung from his bed, clumsily detangling himself from the white bed sheets that were wrapped around his legs and threw on the nearest shirt he could find before pacing out the room, tightening his lose fitting pyjama pants as he went.'Where is he?' Bruce asked as he stumbled into the elevator hurriedly.'Sir is still currently residing in the entertainment suite,' Jarvis answered, 'and has been so for over five hours.''What's wrong? Did he have an accident?' the scientists mind became clouded with worry.'According to my sensors Sir's heart rate appears to be extremely elevated, and has been so for approximately 6 minutes.''Shit,' he swore under his breath, by now he was wide awake and extremely fidget. Everything seemed to so go in slow motion, the doors were closing too slowly for his liking.When the doors finally slid open he staggered forwards on bare feet until he spotted Tony sprawled clumsily across the end of couch, right in the same spot he had been left hours earlier.'Tony!'The man didn't make any move to acknowledge Bruce's presence when the doctor called his name. Stark was hunched forward in his seat, one hand gripped the arm of the couch tightly in a weak attempt to hold himself upright whilst his other hand clawed at his chest frantically. The physicist couldn't help but be alarmed at the distressed chocking noise coming from his friend's throat.'Tony?' Even as he crouched down beside him his lab partner didn't react, his eyes remained glazed over and unfocused, he looked as if he were in a haze, his mind a million miles away. It was only when Banner rested a hand on his shoulder that he made a move.The playboy jumped suddenly and began shuddering violently before scrambling backwards as far as the back of the couch would allow him. The way his eyes flickered in fear made the scientists gut tighten, he couldn't but feel uneasy at his friends expression, he looked as if he were in pain.'Tony? Hey it's me,' he extended in mild reluctance, slowly reaching out and gently resting a hand on Stark's arm.'Tony what's wrong?'The billionaire looked up; his eyes sparkled momentarily in recognition when they landed on Bruce's face for a brief moment before he looked away and carried on panting and heaving.'B-bru-' he only managed to garble a few syllables before wheezing again.'Jarvis wake the others,' Bruce ordered.'I have already done so Doctor Banner.'Tony I need you to tell me what's-''What's going on?' a sharp voice called out from across the room, three other figures stumbled into sight, followed by Steve, all were wearing various nightwear looking tired and disheveled.'I need one of you to grab my kit bag,' the doctor ordered before turning his concentration back to his suffering friend.'Tony I need you to tell me what's wrong,' he spoke slowly, with a serious look of concern etched across his face as he watched Tony's chest rise and fall wildly.'I - I can't-,' he gasped, a small whimper of panic escaped his throat as he heaved heavily.'What the hell is-' the archer froze mid-sentence as he and the others caught sight of their winded team mate.'Bruce what's going o-''I need my bag now!' Bruce snapped interrupting Clint.Without another word Romanoff sprinted from the room in the direction of Bruce's lab, taking the stairs instead of the elevator; leaving the rest of the team to look on in wild confusion.'Tony you're panicking I need you to calm down,' the physicist spoke loudly and clearly, his brows furrowed in concern when he saw how badly his friends hands were shaking.'I can't- I can't breathe' the mechanic spluttered breathlessly, he closed his eyes as he felt his head spinning, only to open them again when he felt warm fingers touching his face.'Hey, look at me,' Bruce tapped the side of Tony's cheek to gain his attention, the billionaire blinked up at him wearily.'Listen, I need you to breath slowly,'The doctor took a deep, slow exaggerated breath and nodded at Tony, urging him to follow his steady breathing pattern.'Come on, in,-'he inhaled deeply before exhaling slowly '-and out.'The philanthropist took a few more strangled breaths before taking a shuddering cough until finally his breathing evened out.'Doctor, why is it that friend Stark is in such distress?' Thor's deep voice echoed loudly.Bruce said nothing; he shifted on his knees and winced internally at the sight of the mechanics unusually pale complexion. Natasha returned breathing heavily, carrying a small, worn looking bag in her arms, she dropped it to the floor next to Banner before taking a step back to give the man some well needed room. Tony Stark was in a confused daze.Everything seemed a complete blur. One moment he had awoken alone, in a complete panic unable to breath; the next thing he knew there was a pair of hands touching him. He jumped in shock, but felt complete relief when he heard a familiar soothing voice.'Tony? Hey it's me,'It was Bruce.This time when he felt a gentle touch on his arm he didn't shy away from it.'Tony what's wrong?'He turned his head to face the physicist only to quickly shut his eyes when dizziness swept over him. He opened his mouth to speak but the words wouldn't come out, it felt like they were stuck in his throat. The tightness in his chest made it difficult to produce more than a short whining noise before he began choking again.'B-bru-'Stark felt like he was being strangled and suffocated.Every time his breathing hitched he screwed up his face in pain. He could feel the arc reactor sitting heavily in his chest, touching his lungs every time he coughed. The sharp, stabbing pain in his ribs made it difficult to breathe, it felt like he was a fish out of water, drowning on air.The billionaire could see Bruce's mouth moving but the words weren't reaching his ears. He was too enveloped in fear, the only sound he could hear was his own franic heartbeat.'I - I can't-,' he panted, struggling for breath, another whimper escaped his sore throat.Tony couldn't stop the tremors and shakes raking through his body. His hands were shaking so hard he couldn't control them at all. He was so absorbed in the anxiety that enveloped him that he jumped in surprise when he felt a sudden tap to his cheek.'Hey, Relax, I've got you.'It took all of Tony's focus to copy Bruce's slow breaths and after what seemed like a long life time his breathing evened out. He collapsed against the back of the couch heavily in exhaustion, panting as if he'd just run a marathon. He was breathing but he could still feel a heaviness pushing the air from his lungs. Bruce's hand rested against his forehead and it was only when he tried to push it away he realized he was still shaking.How pathetic he mused as he slowly regained his wits.When he looked up briefly he noticed he was surrounded by figures.Great, he thought as he continued wheeze forcefully. The famous Tony Stark was reduced to a pitiful, winded, shaking bag of nerves; and there was an audience there to see it.He could hear quiet, hushed voices and Stark forced himself from his daze to listen.'-he doesn't look so good.''H-he is r-right here,' he muttered breathlessly.'No talking, just keep breathing.'Tony might have laughed at Bruce's stern expression if it didn't feel like all the air had been punched from his lungs. The playboy took in anther shaky breath before he was plagued by another fit of coughs.He was vaguely aware of a glass being pressed against his lips; he took a small sip of water before leaning back against the cool leather behind him and closing his tired eyes.'Tony? Tony!'He didn't answer the frantic voice calling his name, he was too exhausted. Instead he allowed himself to be drawn into the darkness and into the welcoming arms of sleep. Bruce Banner frowned as he rested the back of his hand against his friends forehead, he grimaced at the tense heat he could feel radiating from him, Stark was definitely far too warm. He needed to bring his temperature down, and quickly.'He could use some water and ice,'Steve left quickly, leaving Clint, Natasha and Thor surrounding the two, looking weary and unsure of their next move.The super soldier returned soon after with a glass of cold water, Natasha pressed the cup to Stark's lips whilst Bruce rummaged around in his bag for a thermometer; he placed the instrument gently into one of his ears. Tony took a small sip of liquid before pushing the glass away lazily and closing his eyes tiredly.Every breath he took was painfully audible but Bruce wasn't concerned until the mechanic turned unusually still. He barely noticed the change until he looked up when the thermometer beeped.103.9°F'Tony?'He nudged his shoulder gently but the man remained still, his head lolled uselessly against his shoulder.'Crap!'The group's eyes widened when Bruce swore.'He can't stay here, we need to move him.'Steve and Thor stepped forward and carefully lifted the man around their shoulders effortlessly.'I'm calling Pepper, she should know about this,' Romanoff turned to leave but stopped when Jarvis's voice echoed throughout the room.'I have already tried to connect to Miss Potts, Agent Romanoff and I'm afraid she is currently unavailable at present.''You should speak to Fury,' Steve called as he and Thor stepped into the lift. 'Let him know whats going on, If Stark's sick there's a good chance he caught it from someone at Shield.''We'll be as quick as we can.' Clint nodded as the doors closed; he followed closely after Natasha, leaving the super soldier and demi god supporting Tony's limp form in the small enclosed space. The three men became painfully aware of each breath Tony took, the silence in the small space made every noise seem twice as loud.'Jarvis take us up to Tony's apartment,' Banner ordered, glancing at the still billionaire out of the corner of his eye, his breathing was still considerably labored.'I have altered the thermostat in Sir's room to accommodate his current temperature rise.''What are his stats like?' the doctor questioned the AI as the men stepped out into Tony's large suite.Despite their rushed pace, the three couldn't help but gawp slightly at the size of the bedroom, no-one but Pepper and Tony had entered here until now. The few small abstract paintings on the walls definitely belonged to Pepper. The cream colored walls and sleek designed furniture only succeeded in making the room look even bigger and elegant, but tastefully so. The room was undoubtedly Stark's, the holographic clock on the bedside table and huge television on one wall proved that.'Sir appears to be suffering from a high temperature rise and elevated pulse, my system does not seem to be able to determine the exact cause, however it is likely that these symptoms are caused by a virus of some description.' The AI's voice quickly brought them back to reality, now was no time to admire the decor of Tony's room.'Keep me updated if his temperature changes,'Bruce dropped his worn bag down next to the bed and threw back the soft, plump duvet to give Thor and Steve space to lower him down.'Amazing,' Thor glanced up at the ceiling in wonder, even after staying at the tower on and off he could still never get used to the presence of an AI.'It seems like Jarvis knows everything,' Steve sounded both impressed and curious at the Jarvis's intelligence.'Jarvis can measure Tony's vitals through the arc reactor,' the doctor mumbled as he pulled out a stethoscope and rubbed it against his jacket before pressing it to Tony's chest. The sharp whistling noise that greeted his ears was a cause for concern.'I fear we may not be of much use to Friend Stark at this time,' the god of thunder stared down at the philanthropists unhealthy looking form solemnly.'Is there anything we can do to help Doctor Banner?' Steve asked, his face showing grave concern.Bruce pulled his glasses from face and stuck them into his pocket carelessly as he began to take Tony's pulse from his wrist.'We can't really do much until we hear back from S.H.I.E.L.D,' he sighed as he stepped away from the bed. 'He needs proper medical care and a proper doctor; I'm not even fully qualified.''Do not underestimate yourself friend Banner,' Thor looked up at the physicist with a smile. 'I'm sure you are more suited to care for him than anyone.''I'm not that kind of Doctor.''What do you think it could be?' the super solider asked inquisitively, growing more concerned by the minute at the horrible sound coming from Tony's chest.'It could be anything,' Bruce closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose as if he had an oncoming headache. 'Bronchitis, pleurisy, the list is endless; and the reactor makes things even more complicated.''You think it could be the reactor?' Steve probed, turning his attention to the blue light radiating from the billionaires shirt.'Not the reactor itself, maybe something caused by it long term, but it's impossible to tell without any medical equipment,' the doctor continued to rub his head. '- And I don't really know anything about the reactor at all; Tony never really talks about it.'Bruce disappeared across the room and into the en-suite bathroom for a moment before returning with a damp cloth in one hand, he handed it to Thor.'We need to keep his temperature down,' the physicist explained, the god took it wordlessly before taking a step forward and resting the cloth on Tony's sweating forehead. He groaned quietly at the contact and furrowed his brows but he remained in a comatose state.'Steve, I'm going to make a list, I need you to grab a few things from the pharmacy.'The super solider nodded, looking eager to be of some use.'What about you?'The scientist looked back to his lab partners still form resting on the over sized bed beside them before he walked out of the room with the solider.'I need to make a phone call.' ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Bruce Banner pinched the bridge of his nose resignedly in a dismal attempt to rid himself of the feeling of an oncoming stress headache. He sighed as he glanced over at his lifeless lab partner sprawled out across a small gurney, surrounded by masses of medical apparatus and a handful doctors fussing over him incessantly.Ever since they'd moved the billionaire to one of S.H.I.E.L.D's top medical facilities the physicist could feel the tension building inside of him. They'd barely been aboard for an hour and it almost felt as if the medical staff were deliberately trying to aggravate him. He felt like a balloon being pumped with air, stretched to its limits until it was about to burst.'Hey, what are doing?!'Bruce caught sight of one of the nurses hovering around the arc reactor in Tony's chest, her hands were touching it too close for comfort, and he could almost see the hidden temptation in her eyes to unscrew the object from his sternum.'Don't touch that,' he snapped.The woman stepped back nervously; the doctor could feel everyone else's eyes on him.'That goes for the rest of you too,' he glared at the assortment of young doctors around him; they were too curious for their own good.'But Dr Banner, perhaps this is the underlying source of the problem, if we could examine it-''No.' The doctors send him a questioning glance.'While I am in this room no one touches the reactor, understand? Focus on getting the tests done, Tony Stark is your patient, not some sort of science experiment for you to ogle at.'Everyone in the room nodded stiffly before continuing with their work. Banner could see the annoyance on their faces, just because he wasn't a medical doctor didn't mean he was completely clueless about medicine. After all he'd spent most of his life travelling around poorer parts of the world, his knowledge was self-taught.The doctor may only be recognised as a trained physicist but he wasn't going to let S.H.I.E.L.D's doctor's act recklessly, not when Tony's health was declining so worryingly.Bruce squinted at the heart rate monitor beeping away in the corner; there was still no change.The large numbers of people in the small room were starting to make Banner nervous, too many pairs of hands fiddling with different equipment were too many for him to keep track of. He was starting to regret making the phone call to Nick Fury.His eyes wandered over to the billionaire beside him, who lay still, pale and unmoving. The various needles and machines hooked up to him made him look so weak and vulnerable; Stark was usually so full of life, it seemed so wrong for him to look sickly, wheezing in a hospital bed. Bruce frowned as he checked his temperature again.103.9 F.The mechanics brow was furrowed in discomfort, it seemed impossible but he looked paler as every minute passed. Perhaps it was the white of the bed sheets illuminating his skin; or at least the physicist hoped so.'Someone get me 30mg of Codeine, I want to see the X-Rays too.'Bruce wasn't by any means qualified physician, but he was no stranger to illness. Fury had insisted he step back and let and let the staff do their work but he refused. He knew little about Tony Stark, but he did know how much he hated hospitals, there was no way he was going to leave him on his own in a room full of strangers.Not until he knew exactly what was wrong with him.'I said 30 not 60, are you trying to kill him through negligence?' he growled.'Doctor Banner I understand your concern for your friend, but that is the recommended dose for someone experiencing chest pain and breathing difficulties,' the man frowned, 'I am a qualified practitioner I know what I'm doing.'Bruce had to fight the urge to punch the man in the face; for a man with anger issues his patience was truly being tested.'Well then Doctor, I suggest you re-read Mr Starks notes, because if you are as qualified as you say you are then you would know that 60mg of Codeine is an unsuitable dose for a man with an underlying heart condition,' Banner hissed.Clenching his fists by his sides he repressed the green creeping into his vision.'Go and do something useful like change the I.V., I don't care who's in charge around here, anything you give him gets approved by me first.'He fought the urge to snatch the X-Ray results when they were handed to him. He pulled his glasses from his top pocket and pushed them up his face as he held the opaque photograph up to the light. He squinted at the black and white photograph, frowning when he spotted a light shadow over one of Tony's lungs.'I want a C.T scan ready now,'There was a loud crash as a test tube was dropped somewhere over the other side of the room causing Bruce to flinch. He was a bag of nerves; the sight of the rest of the team crowded around the transparent viewing glass did little to ease the tension. He read through Tony's vitals again, forcing himself to hold back a cry of frustration as a migraine hit him with full force.It was going to be a long night. It felt like hours had passed since the avengers watched Dr Banner disappear with Tony Stark behind closed doors. The group sat together in silence, slouching in uncomfortable cheap plastic chairs as they glazed idly through the frosted glass, watching staff come and go.They all felt so helpless on the other side of the glass.Eventually when the brown haired scientist emerged they all jumped to their feet, Steve was the first one to speak.'Doctor Banner how is he-' the blond's words were cut short when he took in the appearance of the other man.He remained silent as he dragged himself forwards and collapse wearily onto the nearest empty chair and leaned back against the wall. His shirt was rumpled and creased; and dark shadows rested under his eyes, he rubbed them with the back of his hands tiredly as he pocketed his glasses.'Doctor Banner?' Natasha piped up, urging the man to speak.'It's -' he sighed, running a hand through his dishevelled grey hair.'It's not good.'There was a nervous pause before he continued speaking.'His lungs are inflamed, It's possible that he's suffering from the early stages of pneumonia.'Barton frowned at the seriousness of his tone.'Now you know what it is, you can cure it right?'Bruce let out a hollow laugh that seemed to echo down the deserted corridor.'I wish it was that simple,' he smiled wearily.Steve stepped closer to glass, squinting at Starks unmoving form.'Just how bad is Doctor Banner?' concern was evident in his tone.'It's still early days; it's difficult to say,' he breathed, tapping his fingers on his knee absentmindedly as he spoke. 'Just because it looks like pneumonia doesn't mean it is, it could be any other number of things but we're still waiting for the test results to come back so I can't be sure.''I'll try and get hold of Pepper again, she should be here,' Natasha pushed herself from her seat, 'Call me if there are any changes.'There was an eerie silence as the team sat huddled together, listening to Natasha's footsteps echoing down the long corridor.'Friend Stark is a strong warrior,' the demi god's strong voice echoed in the small space, 'I know nothing of this pneumonia you speak of, but I know he is a strong man.''Thor's right, Starks a strong fighter, he'll pull through,' Rogers spoke with confidence, 'his chances are good right?''Normally most healthy people make a full recovery from pneumonia,' Bruce began, pinching the bridge of his nose 'But with Tony…''Afghanistan right?' Clint commented, his eyes drawn to the faint light that was barely visible through the bed sheets.'The arc reactor complicates things,' Bruce spoke, he stood from his seat tiredly, pulling out a translucent sheet from the folder in his lap and holding it to the light; the three men crowded round to peer at the black and white X-Ray.'Tony has a very weak immune system and we virtually have no health records to work with, the only ones we do have are after the reactor was fitted so we have nothing to compare it to; we know nothing about it or the effect it's having on Tony's body, especially now he's sick.''Is it possible friend Stark caught illness from one of our S.H.I.E.L.D brothers?' the demi god asked thoughtfully.'It's a possibility, any other healthy person would just contract a cold, but his immune system can't fight it.''My god,' Rogers gasped, he never realised how vulnerable Tony was.The scientist lifted a finger to trace around the photograph of Starks ribs, well what was left of them. Steve and Clint cringed at the sight of the large hole in his chest, Thor stared on in disbelief.'I thought the reactor was keeping him alive, are you saying it could be making things worse?' Steve asked'That's the thing I don't know, we are working in the dark here Steve, all we know is that Tony had a large portion of his ribs removed just to make the reactor fit, he's missing half of his sternum,' he emphasised, wincing at the state of his chest.'I remember Fury showing me the report,' Barton continued to stare at the x-ray as he spoke. 'Sawing through his ribs with no anaesthetic, fuck can you imagine?' he swore, suddenly feeling nauseous.'That sounds barbaric,' Rogers muttered, suddenly feeling helpless and angry.Bruce tucked the X-Ray back into his folder of notes before glancing at Tony's form through the frosty glass.'The reactors what's keeping him alive but its constricting his lungs, I-' the physicist sighed tiredly, 'I'm going to see if I can connect to Jarvis and have him talk me through the reactor while we wait for the test results, I need to understand exactly what we're dealing with here.''I'm sure you'll find something doc, I just wish there was something we could do to help,' Clint sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.'I'm not even a qualified doctor, I doubt I'll be any use at all,' Banner rambled and started cleaning his glasses, a habit he'd picked up when he was stressed; he was starting to crumble under the pressure. 'I mean what if I miss something or I-''Doctor Banner,' Steve interrupted the doctor midsentence and rested a hand on the man's shoulder reassuringly.'You're a genius, if anyone can help Stark, it's you,''Cap's right,' Barton nodded in agreement.'No pressure then…' he forced a small smile and ran a hand through his short, tussled hair.'Have more faith in yourself Doctor,' Thor thumped him on the back.'You guys should probably get some sleep,' Banner blinked at his wristwatch wearily.3:35am.'What about you doc?' Barton raised a brow at the doctors dishevelled state.'I have things to do, besides I'm not sure I could sleep right now anyway; the other guys pretty wired,' he confessed, twitching anxiously as he watched another nurse enter Starks room.'I'll call you when I know more,' he promised, strolling towards Tony's room.'Don't overwork yourself,' Steve called as the physicist slipped through the clear doors, leaving the super soldier, the archer and the demi god alone.'I'm going to talk to Fury and fill him in, I'll meet you guys back at the tower,' Steve promised, Barton and Thor nodded in understanding, watching his back as he retreated towards to opposite end of the corridor.The remaining two took one last glance at Starks still figure, reassured to see Bruce hovering around the man's bed.'Friend Stark will be fine, I am sure of it.'Clint sighed as they turned and made their way into the elevator, leaving their sick teammate behind.'I hope your right.' The first thing that Tony became aware of as he lifted slowly from the depths of sleep was an uncomfortable tightness is his chest. He let out a groan of discomfort, wincing at the scratchiness in his throat.His throat tickled with the urge to cough but he simply couldn't find the energy, instead he lay still, wheezing small lungful's of air and trying to ignore the unpleasant feeling of sweat on his brow.'Tony?'The billionaire opened his eyes only to close them again as they were assaulted by a bright light. He squinted heavily, trying to make sense of the blurred shapes and noises around him.Everything was a horrible shade of white and too bright for his delicate senses.'Tony can you hear me?'Stark frowned, someone was calling his name. He opened his mouth to answer only to find that he couldn't get his words out, they were almost stuck in his throat. He groaned but he couldn't even here himself over the sound of hissing coming from something resting on his face, blowing out cool air. Even from the small uneven breaths he took the fresh air provided pleasant relief but it left him confused. He didn't remember asking Jarvis to change to turn up the oxygen levels.He winced when a loud noise echoed loudly in his ears, what on earth was that irritating beeping sound?Suddenly a pair of cold fingers were resting gently against the pulse of his neck, Tony blinked away the blurriness and looked up to see a familiar looking head of fuzzy brown hair.'Br-bruce?' he wheezed, the effort of talking rewarded him with a hammering pain to his chest. Suddenly it was like all the air on the earth had been taken away; he coughed and spluttered, gasping painfully, it felt like his lungs were being squeezed tightly.'Tony relax, breathe slowly.'After a few exhausting minutes he managed to catch his breath, he lay against the plump pillows propping him up, panting woozily.God he felt awful.He craned his head slightly, glancing around the room until he met Banners gaze.'Did I get hit by a bus?' he slurred slowly, Bruce forced a small smile.'You wish.'Starks gaze wondered around the room, he didn't recognise it at all.Bruce seemed to see his confusion.'You're in one of S.H.I.E.L.D's medical facilities,' he explained, pulling a stethoscope from around his neck he pressed it against Tony's chest; Stark fought the urge to wince at the coldness of the metal. He let out another cough and Banner pulled away, wincing at the noise coming from the other man's lungs.'Do you remember how you got here?'Stark furrowed his brows in thought; the last thing he remembered was falling asleep on the couch. He had a nightmare, an unpleasant reminder of his past, the next thing he knew he was awake and drowning out of water, with loud panicking voices hissing frantically in his ear.'I knew you weren't telling me something.'Fuck.He couldn't hide it anymore, the game was up; guess he really was sick after all.'Where's everyone?' he rasped, remembering Steve's worried face right before he passed out.'I told them to get some sleep,' Bruce spoke softly as he fiddled with a drip bag beside Tony's bedside, 'But it wouldn't surprise me if Steve's still wandering around here somewhere.'Only when the mechanics eyes followed the wire coming from the bag did he notice the large needle embedded into the crook of his arm; ouch.'You nearly gave me a heart attack you know that?' the physicist sighed, placing a clipboard down on the bedside table.'Better luck next time,' he joked, his speech slurred, he pulled a face at the unpleasant stale medical taste the air was leaving in his mouth. He inched his hand closer to his face with the intent of lifting it off when Bruce's hand slapped it away.'Don't even think about it.''I could really use a stiff drink right now,' he panted, speaking so quietly that Bruce barely heard his words.Stark huffed when a plastic cup of water was offered to him.'Not really what I had in mind,' he wheezed, resting the mask beneath his chin as he took a small sip of water, he let out a sigh at the pleasant coolness it provided his sore throat. He rested the cup on the table before his body began to shake with more coughs.He winced at the pain radiating from his chest, his body felt bruised and uncomfortable; he let out a pitiful groan.'I'm guessing all that coughing is making the reactor aggravate your lungs,' the scientist winced sympathetically; he couldn't even imagine what it felt like to have a large piece of metal irritating your chest. 'Sorry, I didn't really want to give you anything stronger then codeine, I haven't had a chance to speak with Jarvis yet, I wasn't sure of the dosage.''I want all of the good stuff baby,' he whined, scowling when Bruce slid the oxygen mask back onto his face.'I'll see what I can do,' Bruce promised, resting a hand on the other man's shoulder, 'in the meantime you should get some sleep, you look awful.''I- I'm not staying here,' Tony rasped drowsily, helplessly trying to push himself out of bed but Bruce gently eased him back down.'There's no way I'm letting you out of that bed, Pepper would kill me.''I w-won't tell anyone,''Tony you're sick and you're not going anywhere until we know exactly what's wrong with you, I swear to god I will duct tape you to that bed if I have to,' the doctor sent him a stern look.'Kinky,' he murmured breathlessly.Bruce rolled his eyes, by now he was used to Tony's joking defence mechanism.'Get some sleep Tony,' he smiled 'Doctor's orders.'Reluctantly Tony did. As much as he hated lying beneath itchy, cheap hospital sheets he couldn't find the energy to move. Each one of his limbs felt heavy, even if he got up when Bruce's back was turned he doubted he would make it past the door. He cursed mentally; it was at times like this Jarvis would be helpful in making an escape plan.The last thing he saw as his eyes flickered shut before he surrendered to the strong arms of sleep was Bruce's worried face looking down on him.As he lay against the warm pillows wheezing breathlessly he allowed his eyes to close for a moment. He would just take a short nap, he promised himself; a few hours of sleep and he would be fit enough fly home.Or so he hoped. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The sound of loud footsteps clicking against tiled flooring woke Tony from his dazed slumber.As he slowly awoke, groggy from his fitful sleep; it became clear that even the small task of waking he found to be pitifully exhausting. He frowned in confusion as his eyes opened sluggishly; he had to pries them open with some effort, it felt as if they were glued shut. Blinking wearily he focused on a blur of red that he saw out of the corner of his eye. It took a moment for his eyesight to adjust to the light and only then did he recognize the familiar figure of a red haired woman perched on a small plastic chair by his bedside.'Good morning sleeping beauty,' Romanoff smiled teasingly.Stark frowned at her words.The philanthropist rarely slept longer than a few hours; to him sleep was a waste of precious time that could be spent doing things more worthwhile; like tinkering in the lab. Obviously what the billionaire had promised himself to be a short power nap had turned into more than a few long hours.He cursed himself.Damn he was slacking, judging by the stiffness in his limbs he had been out of it for quite some time; that or he was finally starting to feel like the aging man he was.Stark snapped himself out of his thoughts and glanced around the room in confusion, what the hell was Romanoff doing in his room?Surely Jarvis didn't let her in without his permission?Speaking of Jarvis, the AI hadn't even greeted him when he awoke which was odd.What the hell was going on?He shifted in bed with the intention of sitting upright and rudely kicking the assassin out of his room when he was stopped by a bruising pain in his chest. He gritted his teeth at the throbbing sensation that came with each breath he took. He began to panic slightly at the thoughts that were running through his head.Was the reactor failing? He'd only checked it last week, it couldn't possibly be malfunctioning.Tony took another breath in an attempt to calm himself.Calm down you idiot.'Do you remember where you are?'Stark could hear Widows voice but he couldn't summon the energy to answer.He lifted a tired arm to rub an itch on his nose when his hand met something hard. His fingers pulled at something plastic sitting against his face. He pulled at it, squinting at the hissing object in his hand.It was an oxygen mask.The elastic tugged the mask back against his face and Stark lay still, breathing in the fresh air. It was only when he felt the cool air hissing against his face that he felt an ounce of recognition as he remembered where he was.The Hospital.The mechanic let out a loud groan of annoyance.He had hoped it had been a bad dream.'You've been out for two days you know,' Natasha commented, offhandedly.He raised a brow in surprise.Two days? Pretty impressive.So that's why the mechanic felt like shit.He glanced down at his clothes, wincing at the horrible thin gown he was now dressed in. What had happened to his favourite black shirt and loose fitting jeans? An image of a doctor cutting his clothes off with a pair of scissors entered his mind. Tony would have sighed if he could spare the breath, as if things weren't bad enough having his favourite shirt cut to pieces, Natasha of all people had to be the one sitting with him.God he probably looked so embarrassingly helpless, lying there with an oxygen mask strapped to his face, wrapped in unfamiliar rough bed sheets that were chaffing against his skin uncomfortably; along with the ugly revealing paper thin gown Tony was pretty sure nothing could embarrass him more.The whole situation seemed like some sort of bizarre nightmare.There was no way things could possibly get any worse.Tony slowly lifted an arm from beneath the bed sheets to scratch an itch by his elbow only to scowl when he realised it was wrapped securely by an inch of medical tape. He eyed the large needle imbedded into his skin with a glare before sighing in frustration and the bruise he noticed surrounding the area.If he weren't feeling so drained he wouldn't hesitate to rip the offending object from his body, but right now he wasn't sure he would be able to without making himself bleed; he could feel his hands shaking unsteadily.Apparently It seemed that things could definitely get worse, on top of everything else now he was a human pin cushion.Unfortunately the sigh made his breath hitch uncomfortably in his lungs and he began coughing fitfully. His chest felt so heavy, it was like someone was straddling him tightly, and not in the sexy way that he would prefer.'Relax Stark, take it easy;' Natasha stood to her feet; the billionaire could feel the assassins concerned gaze resting on him.Take it easy?He had to fight back the urge to laugh, she made it sound so simple.'You're in the hospital; the doctors said your medication might make you forgetful.'That explained the strange feeling of déjà vu he had.He vaguely remembered the last time he woke, feeling anxious and confused, surrounded by strangers in masks and gowns. His memory was hazy; he couldn't remember much more than that.Maybe it wasn't the medication; maybe he was losing his marbles.After another minute of panting and gasping deeply into the mask, he had finally somewhat gained control of his breathing. His winced as he lay back against the pillows, panting with exhaustion.He hadn't felt this bad since he got drunk and trashed the tower at his last birthday party.Tony lay still for a moment as he caught his breath, closing his eyes he fought off the drowsiness plaguing him while he rested his limbs. When his eyes fluttered open a moment later, the clinking of metal caught his attention as a bowl of something was placed on the table beside him.He pulled the oxygen mask from his face clumsily, panting slightly.'What; is that?' he mumbled, pausing for a breath between words.'Food,' the redhead answered, pushing the table a little closer. 'You should eat something, you look awful.'Stark took one look at the lumpy pale looking oatmeal in front of him before turning his nose up in disgust. Whatever was in the bowl certainly didn't look edible, besides he wasn't even hungry; he felt his stomach turn just looking at it. Even if he was starving to death there was no way he was touching that stuff; ever.It was quite degrading really, the billionaire could order anything he wanted from any restaurant in the world and instead he was stuck in a hospital bed staring at a bowl of tasteless oats.Life could be so unfair.Stark knew that hospital food was just the beginning of worse things to come; like more needles imbedded in places they shouldn't be. It was a shame really; if he hadn't spent so much time sleeping perhaps he could have crawled halfway home by now.Pity.Natasha rolled her eyes at the childish expression on his face.'You need to eat,' the redhead picked up a spoon and held it out to him.'What; are you doing here?' Tony probed, batting the spoon away from him with one hand, breathing heavily.'Do I need a reason to be here Stark?' she asked, smiling with her arms folded.'Your baby sitting me, aren't you?' he groaned, rolling his eyes.'Maybe,' she placed the bowl back on the table and pushed it to one side before facing him again. '- or maybe I'm just concerned about you,'Tony snorted at her words, causing him to start coughing again.'F-funny,' he rasped, wincing at the tightness around the arc reactor. He eyed some empty plastic drinks cups next to the chair Natasha had been seated in; it looked like she had been watching him for a while.'De-defiantly babysitting,' he wheezed.Natasha reached out for the water pitcher on the table and handed him a glass, he took it with a shaky hand, eyeing the water in suspicion; the assassin rolled her eyes.'Just drink it Stark, if I wanted to kill you I would have done it more creatively,' she smiled playfully.Despite her smile Tony didn't doubt it, when the pair had first crossed paths he had been a complete asshole, the assassin had probably thought of as least 20 different ways to kill him since they first met. Hopefully after the battle in New York he had redeemed himself just enough to not get murdered in his sleep.The mechanic took a small sip of stale water before screwing up his face in distaste.'I w-want coffee,' he whined, panting slightly.'Sorry, Coffee's off the menu,' she smiled, 'Doctors orders.''Get some sleep Tony, doctors orders.'De ja vu again.Speaking of Doctors that reminded him, where was Bruce?The last thing he remembered was the scientist hovering above him in a white lab coat, fussing over the many tubes and wires attached to his body.'Where's Bruce?' he rasped, finishing the glass of water threw the empty polystyrene cup on the table weakly before attempting to sit up. He could feel his back aching with stiffness; he needed to move before his limbs seized up completely.It took every ounce of energy left in his body to push himself upright, when he did his gown slipped down his chest, revealing the top of the arc reactor. He pulled the fabric back up hastily to cover its glow. He ignored Widow's eyes on him as he did so, the light was still visible through the thin material but he felt a little better for covering it, he hated the reactor being on show, especially around anyone other than Pepper.It almost made him feel naked.'He's in the canteen if he knows what's good for him.'Stark looked at her in bewilderment.'I kicked him out, told him to get some food and rest; he hasn't left since you were brought in you know.'Before he could say anything Natasha was on her feet and by the door.'I'll be right back, don't go anywhere,' she joked, leaving Stark in his own company.Don't go anywhere.'Hilarious,' he muttered to himself.Now he was alone Tony took a moment to look around the small room he was cooped up in.No, not cooped in, more like imprisoned.The room was unsurprisingly bare, there was a sink in corner and some cheap looking curtains around his bed, the room was plain but functional, he wouldn't expect anything more from a shield facility. Out of everything the locked door was what drew his attention. From what he could see there was an electronic lock on the outside, only someone with a security card could get in. Oh the perks of being at the top of the social ladder.He eyed the inside of the door panel carefully, smiling when he noticed a simple door handle. You only needed a card to get in, not to get out.Now that Romanoff was finally gone, now was as good time as any to bust himself out of this joint. He shuddered at the feeling of his bare legs against the mattress, he wasn't going anywhere without his clothes. He frowned and glanced around the room in search of his jeans and destroyed t-shirt, they couldn't be too far away right?Unfortunately he'd barley swung his legs over the side of the bed before he heard the door click open.God damn it.'Don't even think about.'He'd heard those words before.Suddenly Bruce appeared in front of him, glaring in disapproval.'This isn't w-what it looks like,' he wheezed, trying not to look like a dear caught in the headlights.Bruce eyed him with amusement.'Oh really, you mean you aren't trying to leave?''J-just ugh, stretching my legs you know?' he coughed lightly, waving his hand in dismissal when he saw Bruce watching him with concern.'Nothing like a, r-run to start the day right?' he coughed again, this time giving in to pride and reaching for the oxygen mask he'd dumped on the bed behind him.'You, are not running anywhere for quite some time,' Bruce sighed, pushing Tony gently by the shoulder until he was lying back down.The pair were both silent for a moment, the only sound that could be heard was the hissing of an oxygen canister and the horrible wheezing of the billionaire trying to catch his breath, the doctor winced at the noise.He sounded like a fish out of water.'How are you feeling?' he asked, eyeing the man's pale complexion.Stark rolled his eyes dramatically when he caught him staring.'Don't pretend you care,' he smiled, breathing deeply; 'you didn't even bring me flowers you a-asshole' he teased, coughing.'You're right, sorry; I didn't get you flowers,'Banner shrugged, smiling slyly before reaching a hand into his jacket pocket.'But, I got you something much better,' the scientist pulled something small from his pocket, and Tony almost cried with joy when he saw the device sitting in the palm of his hand.To anyone one else it appeared to be a normal ear piece, but Tony knew better. It wasn't just any wireless ear piece; it was the one he built specially to connect with Jarvis.'Banner, I could kiss you right now,' he wheezed, fingers twitching eagerly.'I'd rather you didn't,' Banner rolled his eyes before taking on an edge of seriousness.'I'm pretty sure your heart can't handle anything too strenuous right now, I'm not even sure I should be giving you this.''Gimmie!''Are you going to behave?'Stark squinted at Banner like a petulant child.'C'mon Bruce,' Tony wheezed, whining. Seeing his tech in the other man's hand was like waving a carrot in front of a donkey's nose.'Have mercy.''If I even see one of your toes move from that bed, you're in trouble,' he warned, before dropping the tech into Stark's.As soon as it landed in the palm of his hand, he hooked it over his ear lobe and flicked the switch, breathing a sigh of relief when the familiar voice of his AI greeted him.'Good morning sir.''J, buddy; it is so good to h-hear your voice,' he grinned, speaking hoarsely.'And you sir, as always.''Fill me in J, how are the kids?''I must warn you Sir, Dummy has become rather rebellious during your absence, I'm afraid he has decided to redecorate the guest lounge.''Probably better if I don't ask,' he rasped.'Indeed sir.'Tony hissed as Banner fiddled with the tape around his arm.'I have not yet been able to successfully contact Miss Potts about your hospital admission, though I will keep trying.''s'not a bad thing,' he muttered, he couldn't imagine how Pepper would react to him being sick. Juggling a big work load along with the press conference in Japan, worrying about him being was the last thing she needed right now.He attention altered from the AI and back to Bruce when he noticed he stopped fiddling.The billionaire interrupted Bruce's intense gazing at one of the monitors behind him.'Give it to me straight doc,' he croaked, 'will I live?'He expected to be met with the usual shake of the head and a small smile, but Bruce's expression remained stern.'That's not funny Tony,'Before he could come up with an answer Stark's breath caught in his throat as he was plagued with another shaking cough.Just as his eyes stopped watering he was met with Bruce's worried gaze again.'Why didn't you tell me you were feeling sick?''I feel like shit all the time, didn't really notice,' he answered honestly, coughing into the crook of his arm.It wasn't a lie.Having an arc rector sitting permanently in your chest was definitely not one of the most comfortable feelings in the world. The muscles around the metal always ached and throbbed, leaving the billionaire feeling permanently grouchy and sluggish, after all the years he'd had the damn thing he still couldn't differentiate sickness from the normal aches and pains.Bruce let out a sigh, pulling his glasses from his face he pocketed them before pulling up a chair next to Tony's bed.'We're still running a few more tests but we're pretty sure you have the early stages of bronchitis,' Bruce slouched in his chair 'but you probably already guessed that.'The scientist stilled for a moment, he eyes lingered on the arc reactor for a moment before turning back to his friend.'Hopefully we've caught it early enough to treat, but with the arc reactor; and your weakened immune system…'Bruce paused, choosing his words carefully.'There's a high chance it could develop into pneumonia.'Tony didn't speak, his expression remained vacant and he continued wheezing.'Tony I know how important the reactor is, but if you catch pneumonia-''It'll kill me right?' he finished Bruce's words.He glanced at the scientist as he nodded in conformation.'It wouldn't be the first time this things tried to take me down,' his breath hitched as he gestured coolly towards the beam of light radiating from his chest.'Tony, this is serious.''The thing that's-,' the billionaire paused to wheeze, 'k-keeping me alive, s'tryin to finish me off?' he smiled bitterly, 'just my luck huh?'Bruce rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly, deep in thought.'Have you ever considered surgery to remove the shrapnel?' he asked tentatively, though he suspected he already knew the answer.'Not gonna happen,' Tony rasped.'Tony I know the risk of removing it is huge, but if we remove the reactor, it'll take all the strain off your heart and your lungs.''Not gonna happen B-bruce.'Tony was too tired to argue with his lab partner, if he was in peak condition he would have rambled on and on until Bruce gave in and left the room, instead he was forced to lay there and take in his words. He knew he was in denial, for years he'd known that removing the shrapnel and the reactor would be the only way he was guaranteed to live a long life, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to care.After the terror of Afganistan and New York, he just wanted a break.Some peace and quiet.Maybe this was finally his chance to get it, to leave behind the stress and disappointment his footprint had left on the world and just drift away.No more wars, no more nightmares; just bliss.Bruce stood to his feet; Tony could see his fists shaking by his sides with repressed emotion.'Tony you can't, that- that's suicide!'There was a short paused before Tony pulled the oxygen mask from his face, looking Bruce straight in the eyes.'So is taking it out,' he slurred.'Tony what would Pepper say if she heard you like this?''Don't try and guilt trip me,' the mechanic hissed angrily, chest rattling painfully with every word he spoke. He was vaguely aware of the heart monitor to his left spiking briefly before settling down as he calmed his breaths.'You should get some rest.'Gone was the anger is Bruce's eye's, now they were filled with gloom and dejection. He turned away from the bed and bee lined for the doorway.If Tony wasn't so exhausted he probably would have tried to stop him, he stared up at the ceiling drowsily, willing for the drugs and painkillers to send him back into a drowsy sleep.Banner paused in the doorway, looking back at the billionaire over his shoulder; concern etched onto his face.'You know I'm not going to let you give up like this.'He didn't wait for a reply before he closed the door behind him.
1015630	The Atrium -- a very	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Godric (True Blood), Cara", "Fandom": "True Blood", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by Meridiean", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-10-23T00:00:00", "words": "1,938", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Godric/Original Female Character(s) (True Blood)", "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 Atrium – a very short Godric and Cara one-shotThe atrium, enclosed by the “business and pleasure” complex, was crowded with people milling about all over the place in their hurry to get someplace so they could be in another hurry to get on to somewhere else. Cara was just trying to get from one end of the complex to the other but wasn’t having much success. She figured it’d help a lot if she actually knew where she was supposed to be going.Earlier that day a really nice but crazily-dressed girl with amazingly multi-colored hair had handed her a package, spouting off something way too quickly about how Cara needed to go see some lawyer with an unpronounceable last name about something in the thick envelope before she immediately zipped off on what she guessed was another manic errand. She glanced down at the stuffed manila envelope in her hand as if it knew where she was supposed to be going. She’d naturally tried to open the damn thing after the fast-talking lady had disappeared, but it was sealed up tight. There was no phone number anywhere, either, but it had an address all right – for one of the offices on the second floor of the complex.Hell, she hadn’t even located a set of stairs or an elevator to get up to the second floor yet.Suddenly she was jostled by some jerk passing by at the speed of light into a…no, he wasn’t a boy but he sort of looked like one…who caught her just before she would have either bowled him over or landed on her ass.“Oh, I’m sorry,” she exclaimed as she braced her hands on his hard chest, her words dying off as she met his strangely beautiful eyes….his strangely beautiful blue-grey vampire eyes that looked far too old for his young face.“And this collision, it was your fault,” he asked, his soothing voice deceptively placid, one brow quirked high. The teasing light dancing in his eyes spoke to her without words even as he tightened his hold about her waist.“”Well,” she began, mischief bright in her eyes, “if I had been made of magic, then I could have moved myself out of your way very quickly but then, it’s not my fault that I’m not made of magic, so, well, no I don’t guess it is my fault, ” she ended with a laugh…and didn’t step back away from him. He might be a complete stranger, but being near him felt incredibly…right.His infinite gaze, startling in its intensity, bore down into her own smiling mahogany brown eyes as a grin teased his firm lips.“So, if you are not at fault, then perhaps I am at fault for standing here,” he teased as he subtly drew the beautifully mischievous lady closer into his arms. She had obviously been attempting to corral her luscious dark brown hair with some sort of cloth thing, but thankfully it wasn’t working too well as his eyes followed a couple of escaped tresses flowing over her shoulders.“Well,” she began with appropriate seriousness,” I guess it technically could be your fault for standing here being all gorgeous and…” her voice dwindled off as she realized what she was saying. With an embarrassed giggle and a blush, she continued, “But, since you had no way of knowing just how rude that person was going to be, then I don’t guess it was your fault,” she allowed magnanimously.“Humm,” he pretended to consider, his eyes sparkling with shared mischief, “well, then, if you are not at fault, and if I am not at fault, whom shall we blame?” He asked with a raised brow and a slight smile to his firm lips.“I say let’s blame the universe,” she replied quite seriously, the twinkle in her eyes quickly beguiling the vampire holding her so closely to his body. Her fresh, clean scent, free of obvious toxins and overblown perfumes, beckoned him closer and made his mouth water while the warmth of her body called to his own.“Ah, yes, the old ‘blame the universe’ option. I hear it comes highly recommended,” he quipped lightly, freely inhaling her luscious scent while unable to tear his gaze from hers.“Oh, definitely” she replied with enthusiasm, “People have been doing so quite successfully for millennia, you know. The universe is large; it can handle the guilt.” She punctuated her assurance with a firm nod of her head, and accidentally loosened another dark tress.His eyes following the falling hair as it slid around her neck, he responded, “People have well done so, but vampires are somewhat less inclined.”“That doesn’t make a lot of sense, ya know.” She angled her head a bit sideways in contemplation, and he took the opportunity to move her hair away from her neck. Although he moved at vampire speed, his senses were still so heightened that he was well able to appreciate silken texture of both her hair and her skin even when so briefly touched.“How so?” He was a smidge taken aback – at his age, his words generally went unchallenged.“Because vampires are people, too,” she stated quite confidently.“And how do you figure this, oh knowledgeable one?” Ah, the thought processes of the young …To his eternal delight, the beautiful lady in his arms huffed at him…actually huffed!As a total package, she was adorable! Long dark hair with a tendency to curl at the ends, deep cheerful mahogany eyes, pink cheeks that blush with ease, and she came to just past his chin…he could already feel what it might be like to tuck her face into his neck…“We’re all people,” she stated firmly as if she’d expected him to already know such a thing. “Humans are people, vampires are people; people are people,” she enunciated clearly even as she lightly poked him in the chest. “So there,” she had the audacity to proclaim. Her bright grin showed her pride in her assertions, and the look in her flashing brown eyes gave proof of her convictions.“You know that I am vampire,” he stated for clarification purposes.“Of course,” she replied immediately.“I am curious – how did you know that I am vampire, and why do you not seem to care about such things?”“I could just tell. Something about your eyes, I guess? And the hardness of your chest,” she elaborated as she gently poked his chest again. “Your scent, too, maybe?” She leaned forward to trail her nose along the upper part of his chest, invoking the traditional fanged reaction.She glanced up through her lashes at the sound of his fangs erupting, and stared for a long moment, and he was surprised to note neither fear nor undue arousal from her. He could scent her interest, of course, but was surprisingly thankful that she didn’t appear to be one of those desperate, pathetic creatures willing to sell themselves for naught but a pittance from a vampire.“That, and your temperature is slightly cooler than my own,” she added as she continued peeping up at him.Slightly? He mused to himself about that oddity.“And, to answer your second question, why would I care? We’re all people.” Her bright laughter, and her obvious acceptance of his eternal status, warmed forgotten areas of his heart, and he laughed aloud in spite of himself.Cara allowed herself the luxury of loosing herself in the warmth of the vampire’s darkening gaze for a long moment before suddenly realizing that she was being held almost indecently close to the firm, and firming, body of a breathtakingly handsome stranger in the middle of a very public place. Resolutely she softly pushed her hand resting against his hard chest and took a small step back for propriety’s sake…as well as the sake of her increasing heartbeat.“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to hold you up,” she excused herself, looking pointedly at the plain packet he held in the hand no longer holding her. Her own had fallen near his feet.“I assure you, it is no problem,” he state quite strongly. “And why would you assume that you are delaying me?”“Because I’m spectacularly good at assuming things,” she said cheekily. “Besides, you’re standing here holding a packet in your hand, and that generally signifies that you’re in the process of going somewhere or doing something, neither of which involves the likes of me.”“The likes of you?” The thought of this woman leaving, of no longer holding her in his arms – even as lightly as he now was – struck a strange terror into his non-beating heart. Granted now that he knew her scent he would be able to locate her, eventually, but…“Yes, a stranger like me, even if I would love to get to know you better so that we’re not strangers any longer.” The most delicious blush spread over her cheeks.She couldn’t believe how forward she was being…not that she saw anything wrong with it, but it wasn’t her normal m.o. But…she didn’t even know his name…and she didn’t like that one little bit.“Ah, yes – I approve of this concept…and I believe the first step in getting to know someone is to ask their name,” he grinned devilishly. “So, strange woman, what is your name?”“Cara,” she replied simply. “And you? Who might you be?”“Cara,” he repeated, her name rolling off his tongue in an evocatively ancient cadence.“Oh, she exclaimed quietly, trapped in his warming gaze, “I love the way my name sounds on your tongue. It calls to mind ancient times and ways of seeing and understanding things.”After a quick swallow, the male answered in a deeper tone, “Well, that makes since as I am an old vampire, a very old vampire.”Cara simply nodded.“This does not surprise you?”“Oh no,” she assured with a sweet smile as her eyes roamed the timeless contours of his ancient face. “I can tell by your beautiful eyes that you’ve been on this earth quite a long while. I can also tell,” she quipped, “that you have yet to answer my question.”“Godric,” he said softly. “Just Godric.” He fell into temptation and slowly smoothed the backs of his fingers over the silky soft curve of her cheek, and purred as Cara closed her eyes and sighed. •0~~~~~~•0•~~~~~~0• From the balcony of the second floor above, the demon lawyer and his colorful niece observed the happenings below with a deep sense of satisfaction.The packages, containing nothing more than a very full definition of the word “fate” and all that it implies, had served the purpose given them by the Ancient Pythoness.Earlier that morning The Seer’s lovely messenger had descended upon his legal office and charged him with ensuring the proper delivery of two packages, packages whose seals could not be opened until both intended parties met in his office. A call soon followed from The Oracle herself whereupon she explained rather bluntly that she was quite tired of waiting for her grand-progeny to meet his true mate, and had tasked the trusted demon lawyer to make it happen.Uncle and niece watched with approval as the ancient vampire, known the world round for his enormous power, vast knowledge, and timeless wisdom, and the vivacious young woman, relatively untried yet possessing an innate character and demeanor belying her few summers, fell in love as only a fated pair could.... Good? Bad? Ugly? Loves me some reviews I does! .
1016288	Learning Things In The	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Elyan (Merlin), Gwen (Merlin), Lancelot (Merlin), Gaius (Merlin), Hunith (Merlin), Freya (Merlin), Mordred (Merlin)", "Fandom": "Merlin (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by digthewriter", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-10-24T00:00:00", "words": "16,125", "Additional Tags": "Original Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst, Pining, Fuck Or Die", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Mordred (Merlin), Elyan & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Freya/Merlin (Merlin)", "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 }	My father always said that the first thing you have to do is take care of yourself. Always put yourself first. Well, my father was a selfish bastard and he had never met Merlin—but we’ll get to that later.How can you think of your own survival first when a ten-year-old girl is dying in your arms, gasping for breath, and there is nothing you could do?Some say it was in the water, some say it was an airborne illness that started it, but no one could verify it. A plague hit our country and people began dropping like flies. Then the curse that hit our land was gone just as fast as it had arrived.Morgause said that it was the Universe’s way of balancing itself. Mother Nature was cross with us and was teaching us a lesson. We all laughed at her, but I felt sick when she was the first one of us to go.After it was all over, the curse, the plague, whatever it was, only a third of us had survived. Some survivors continued hiding, while others ventured out in hopes of finding a reason to continue.After my father passed, and my sister fled, there was no reason for me to remain in our home. I was curious about the outside world, my first ever real opportunity to go out there and do some good! I removed the barriers and opened it to the public. What was I going to do with a ten bedroom mansion anyway? I put Percy in charge and left with anyone that wanted to tag along. Gwen and Elyan followed.We survived on scraps and the generosity of others. Again, I was reminded of how my father had been wrong. He had been so sure that people only stole and thus we had to protect what was our own.Soon Elyan and I began to help the small village of Nyth reconstruct, while Gwen helped in the clinic. That’s where she met Lance. The villagers said that he’d been the sickest in the bay and only healed after Gwen was taking care of him. “She gave him a reason to live,” the physician said.Our intention had been to help the people of Nyth and then move on to Ealdor, but we soon discovered that Lance wanted to head to Nemeth in search of his family. Gwen left with him and Elyan and I were on our own—or we were for a while.Perhaps because it had been so long for the both of us—I know we certainly didn’t intend it. Elyan knew that I fancied men and maybe he was bisexual...or just lonely. We sat around the fire finishing the last of the wine presented by the villagers and suddenly he was on top of me. Our hands were inside each other’s trousers and we wanked each other off sloppily, drunkenly. I don’t remember falling asleep but I remember waking up when Elyan wanted another go. It felt good to feel him, his tongue inside my mouth. It felt good to feel anyone. I wondered if we were going to have sex again.When I woke up in the morning, he was gone.So, not bisexual, just lonely. Then ashamed.I waited for half a day, then continued my journey to Ealdor—hoping that Lance would soon be reunited with his family, and that he and Gwen would join me soon after that. My friends had been my refuge, and loneliness was scarier than any other curse.The journey wasn’t the greatest. The paths were worse than any others that I’d come across. It was as though I was being told to go back. That only piqued my curiosity further, and I forced myself to continue.Three days later I reached Ealdor, and came across the clinic and asked to speak to the person in charge. Gaius, his name was—an elderly gentleman, wise beyond all reason. My father would have liked him.“I’ve come to help,” I told him. “I was in Nyth and I heard that you can use all the hands you can get.”Gaius’ face lit up the moment I told him why I was there. Apparently he had heard of me, or, well, my father. His face fell with distress. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid we can’t pay you.”I chuckled. My father never did anything for free. I completely understood why the first thing that this man said to me was about payment. “I simply need a place to stay.” I placed my hand on his shoulder and squeezed it a bit for reassurance. “If you can help me with that, I can manage the rest on my own. I can hunt and I can cook.”“That’s very helpful, very generous.”“There are no needs for formality. This plague that we’ve been cursed with, whatever this is, I just know that I’m healthy and I can help. My...friends...they went off to other villages seeking family and friends and they might be joining me as well.”The old man nodded and sent for his godson. “Get Merlin,” he told a young woman.Then, I met him. Everything had led up to that moment; it was as though everything was worth it because of him. Then, he opened his mouth.“Merlin, did you take your medicine today?”“Yeah, right after I drank horse piss.”Merlin Emrys was the most opinionated person I’d ever met in my life.The first time I saw Merlin, I finally understood what it meant to go weak at the knees. Not that I wasn’t able to balance myself, but the moment he looked at me, I felt that I would have melted right then and there if he’d touched me. Needless to say, it was just my blood sugar being low.“Merlin, this is Arthur Pendragon.” Gaius made the introductions. “He’ll be staying with you for a short while until we find proper accommodations.”Oh.“Why me?” Merlin whined. I didn’t feel so great after that. I was already becoming a burden. Perhaps I should have volunteered to look for my own place to stay.“Because you’re always the first one in and the last one out, and you know more about the clinic than anyone else. You can show Arthur around, teach him when I’m busy. Also—”“But…” Merlin interrupted.“Merlin…”The young man sighed. This was the most interesting conversation to watch. I could tell that Merlin was definitely the type of bloke that marched to his own tune, but this old man could simply raise an eyebrow to shut him up.Neat trick.“Come on,” he said to me as he grabbed my bag and led the way.“I can carry my own cargo.”“Fine!” Merlin dropped my bag on my feet and continued walking.I looked up at Gaius, who simply sighed. He was probably thinking the same thing as me. This is going to be a very long assignment. --* I reached Merlin’s quarters and saw two beds pushed together.“Did you have someone here before me?” I couldn’t help but ask. He grumbled in response. I took that as a yes. “Shall I pick a corner and push my bed there?”He looked around the room and then looked at me. “I’ll take the right side. I’ll push my bed off there. I don’t have any sheets or blankets for you though. So we’ll have to share tonight. In the morning, I’ll get some, so—”“You want us to share?” The thought made me more uncomfortable that it should have. I felt a sort of heat rise inside me and I was afraid that my body liked the idea more than I anticipated.“I don’t want us to share. It does get pretty chilly at night so I can’t afford to lose sleep over being too cold and I’m sure you don’t want to catch something. I leave quite early for the clinic anyway…”“Alright,” I said, begging him to stop. It seemed as though he was more uncomfortable about this than I was. I wondered who this person was that he lived with before me and what happened to them.“It’s nearly supper time. My mother will be waiting.” He looked at me expectantly.“Is that an invitation?”The shock in my voice was hard to miss. Ever since I had arrived, Merlin had not said a kind word to me. He had been acting as though having to share quarters with me was the biggest inconvenience he had ever had to suffer, and yet now he was inviting me to his mother’s for supper?He sighed and then rolled his eyes. I wasn’t sure if I was beginning to like him or really hate him.“I need to take a shower. Why don’t you get settled in and then we’ll be off. Okay?”I nodded. A shower sounded excellent. I hadn’t had a proper shower since before Elyan had left. We’d stopped in some village when we were both on our way to Ealdor and that’s really when I’d noticed him watching me. And then a few days later he was gone.I really don’t know what was worse. Was I feeling betrayed that my friend had used me and then abandoned me or that I simply wasn’t worth sticking around for? I went to the left corner of the room and began to unpack my things. I was relieved to find one pair of trousers that were still clean. The next day, I’d really have to find a place to get my clothes washed.I had nearly finished changing when he came back into the room. I’d been alone for so long that being around someone was going to take some getting used to. I quickly snapped towards the door and Merlin walked in with nothing but a towel around his waist. The first thought I had was that this bloke really was going to be the death of me, the second thought was that I hadn’t realised how skinny he was. He was unusually thin.“Sorry, I sort of forgot to grab my clothes before…”“That’s alright, I didn’t mean to jump at the door, I’m just not used to…” Awkward silence. He walked up to the cupboard and began to pick out clothes. I watched him. Not because he was an attractive bloke walking around practically naked. Well, not just because of that, but because his shoulder bones were popping out more than usual. His skinny arms were still lean and muscular, but it was the first time I had noticed that there was something wrong with Merlin. --* “Mother, stop putting so much food on my plate!” Merlin whined to Hunith when she insisted that he was too skinny.So I wasn’t the only one who’d thought that. I mean, we were surrounded by the plague, but most people that looked as sickly as Merlin did without a shirt were usually on a hospital bed. He was walking around without a care.“Arthur, I’m glad you’re here and staying with Merlin,” Hunith said turning towards me, and putting more food on my plate as well. I didn’t mind as much as Merlin.“Why?” Merlin’s voice was irritated.She continued, ignoring him. “If he collapses again, I’m sure you’ll tell me straightaway and not a week later like him.” She smacked Merlin behind his head and I couldn’t help but laugh.“Mother!”The evening continued famously. Mostly it was Merlin’s mother fretting over him; it was a great show. --* “So you are sick?” I couldn’t help but ask Merlin when we returned to our quarters. “Your mother…” I had to admit she looked sick as well.“She’s recovering. I mean...we think she’s recovering. There were a few cases where the patients looked healthy but they died soon after.”“And you?”“I was sick for a while, but...I wasn’t. I mean, I had the symptoms everyone says. They feel tired, but can’t sleep. Their body isn’t taking in any nutrition, they end up mostly vomiting it...high fever, restlessness, weird dreams...and...other things...I mean, I feel all of that, but I’m not bed bound. I can walk around, help people...I stopped worrying about myself and...I don’t have time to worry about myself. I’m going to keep helping until I literally can’t.”“Maybe you should slow down a bit?”“No one asked you!” he snapped at me, and I wasn’t really sure why.“Listen, I’m not trying to…”“So don’t.”“Right, I’ll just head for the shower then.” I grabbed my towel and a t-shirt, and was out of the room before Merlin could say anything else. I wasn’t really sure why he was so cross with me, but I didn’t want to think about it anymore. I just wanted some hot water—I knew that the steam would make me forget everything. I just wanted to wash the day away.Unfortunately, every time I closed my eyes, all I saw were Merlin’s blue eyes, his defined jaw line; God, he had a pretty mouth. I had gone to Ealdor looking for peace, and I’d never been so jittery; now all I thought about was his mouth. I wondered if I could just lick that jaw. No! I was not going to ruin this for myself. I was a Pendragon. I would behave, I would keep my emotions in check and I would not give in to desire. I was at Ealdor to help and that’s what I was going to do. I was going to speak with Hunith and find out about her condition and her cure. Then I was going to work at the clinic while I waited for Gwen and Lance to come.I was not going to fantasise about the man I would be sharing living quarters with. I already did that and ruined it. I was going to be friends with Merlin and nothing else.Thankfully for me, I hadn’t forgotten my clothes when I’d left the room for a shower. I changed in the bathroom and returned to the room with my loose t-shirt and shorts. It would be awkward to sleep next to him, but at least I was sleeping on a real bed. The moment I left the bathroom the lights went out, and I heard a shriek. I tried to return to the room, but not before bumping into things left and right. When I arrived at the room, it was darker than the hallway.“Merlin?” I whispered.“Here,” he answered, although I had no idea where here was. “Lock the door behind you immediately.”“Okay.” I followed his instructions.“Just walk five steps forward then take a left, then four more steps and then a right and you’ll be on your side of the bed. Tomorrow when we separate the beds, we’ll have to practice our way around the room in the dark.”“What happened to the lights? Does this happen a lot?” The lights were often going out in other villages as well, but they had candles, and other preparations made. This sounded like it was something different.“Some of the people that are plagued…” He paused for a moment. “Something’s happened to them. It’s like a switch inside them that snapped, and they cut the power in the middle of the night, and if you’re not too careful, they’ll grab you and…”“And what?” I asked, my tone matching the sound of his whisper.“You don’t want to know.” I didn’t say anything for a while after that. I simply took off my shirt and bundled up in the blanket, fully aware of how close Merlin was to me. “Sometimes, they just come in and steal. But sometimes, they take people with them and we never see them again.”“What is this plague?” I asked. I felt Merlin’s body shift as though he was now facing me.“I don’t know. All we know is that it started here, in Ealdor, and it spread. We also know that it’s over, meaning no more people are getting infected, but the people that are sick are either getting over it quickly or only getting worse.”“Your mother…”“I don’t know. She says she’s okay, but sometimes …”“Sometimes what?” I asked. I was now mere inches from him. There was a chill traveling down my spine and I immediately regretted taking off my shirt.“I know that sometimes at night she locks herself in her room, and she’s told her neighbours to not let her out no matter what they hear. It’s like...whatever these people have...she has it too and she’s simply suppressing it. I know Gaius has been giving her medicine; I still don’t know what the medicine does though…”“You should talk to her,” I offered and then internally groaned. Me, offering advice for someone to talk to their parent. I wondered if Merlin could see me rolling my eyes in the dark.“Yeah, I will…” he said and yawned.“Good night,” I whispered, and turned the other way hoping I could will myself some warmth. Suddenly I heard voices. Screams and they only got louder and more chaotic. I panicked. I grabbed Merlin’s arm and he held my hand for a moment.“It’ll pass. Just breathe,” he whispered. It did pass and I was still panicking. I didn’t understand. What was that? I didn’t want to ask Merlin. I was afraid he would hear the fear in my voice. I tried to calm myself as best as I could.“Goodnight, Arthur,” he said.“Goodnight, Merlin,” I answered. --* When I woke up in the morning, it was warm—mainly because Merlin had his arm around me and his erection was pressing into my backside. It was awkward, and comforting at the same time. I didn’t—I couldn’t deny my attraction to Merlin and now he was asleep next to me—I wanted to push back, God, I was stupid. I quietly and slowly tried to slide out of the bed and from under his arm and naturally, I woke him .“Oh, sorry.” Merlin turned and immediately retracted his arm from my body. I miss the warmth instantly. Then he must have realised his erection. “Oh, shite.”I chuckled. “It’s alright…”“I...Erm…” I think this was the first time I saw the man lost for words.“I’ll just get dressed,” I said, and turned towards my belongings looking for a clean shirt. I heard the door open and close behind me. I sighed with relief. Thankfully, we’d have separate beds from that night on. --* The first day in Ealdor, I learned the lay of the land and how the clinic worked. Gaius mainly needed help transporting patients. Any emergencies that came in went directly to him, then someone would have to carry the body over to an empty bed after he or she was diagnosed. Usually they had very little manpower that could carry the patients with ease. I suppose, they wanted me for my muscle.Merlin’s words. Not mine.“Where is the rest of the manpower?” I asked. Surely, I couldn’t be the strongest person in Ealdor, as much as I liked the thought of it.“We get requests almost on a daily basis from other villages around us for the medicine.” Gaius sat down next to me to take a rare break. The man worked harder than anyone I’d ever seen before. “You may already know about the ones that come out at night?” I nodded. I had so many questions about that. Before I could ask, Gaius spoke again.“When we send someone to the nearby villages, we need protection for them…”“So now all of you are vulnerable at the home front.”“That’s why we lock the doors at night,” Gaius answered with a soft smile.“Well, I’m here, and if I can help in any way—”“Gaius! It’s Hunith!” a voice screeched through the door. Two people were bringing Merlin’s mother into the room.“What happened to her?” I asked; she looked white as a ghost and her lips were turning blue.“She’s still alive,” Gaius said calmly. “Take her to an empty bed...there.” He pointed toward the corner.“I’ll do it.” I carried Hunith and walked over the bed, laying her down gently.“She must have had a reprisal. The disease hasn’t completely left her system.” I could never understand how a person could be so calm in such chaos. Gaius was the most put-together man I’d ever met.Merlin came in, frantic. His manner was the complete opposite of Gaius’s. He was terrified and unnerving everyone around him. “It’s me. It’s my fault! She’s my blood!” he kept repeating. Everyone around us was confused.“What’s your fault?” I finally asked.Gaius looked up at him and he immediately shut down. He knelt next to Hunith and held her hand. He was quiet for the rest of the afternoon. When it was time to leave, it was important that we locked up the clinic and sedated the patients, so that they couldn’t go outside where they would be in danger.“Come on, Merlin. You have to go,” Gaius said, placing his hand on Merlin’s shoulder and gently squeezing it. “Unless you want me to sedate you as well.”“You know what happened last time you did that,” Merlin answered, standing up. He gave Gaius a smile and Gaius shook his head.“What happened last time?” I was so curious. Everything about Merlin, I was just so curious.“I was knocked out for three days, they thought I’d never wake up.”“Why?”“It’s the medicine, it works differently on me than it does on everyone else.”“I don’t understand.” I really didn’t.“No one does.” Merlin grinned and walked past me. His arm slightly brushed against mine, and I forgot to breathe again. “Come on, we’ve got to get dinner then set up the room.”“You still didn’t do it?” I asked, annoyed. Sharing a bed with him was torture. I was beginning to get frustrated with my feelings towards him—my attraction.We ate at Gaius’s that night. He’d cooked a simple meal and apparently it was Merlin’s favourite. During the walk back, I noticed that Merlin was exceptionally quiet. Whenever I turned to looked at him he’d immediately look away. This went on for the entire walk back and eventually I just gave in.“What is it?” I snapped.“Nothing.”“Then why are you—?” He looked at me confused. Maybe it was all in my head. “Never mind.”“You’re really strange, you know that?” he asked me.“Right, I am strange.” He was the one who kept looking at me as though he wanted to say something, and then was acting so...aloof.“And a prat,” he added.“What? You don’t even know me!” I shoved him away from me. Even though it really was just an excuse to touch him.He pushed me back. “I know you well enough to know you’re a prat. I knew that the moment you walked in. I don’t know why Gaius likes you.”“And let me guess, you don’t like me?”“I didn’t say that.” His face straightened up and the smile disappeared.“Right. I came in, I’m always in your way. You’re forced to share your space with me...so naturally, I’m a prat.” We’d reached our living quarters.“So you do admit you’re a prat?”“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” I answered as I opened the door and entered the room. The bed was still there, joined. I knew Merlin had said that he didn’t have time to fix up the room, but just seeing it made it so much more real. I’d have to sleep next to him again. I could only hope that my desire to touch him wouldn’t overcome me in my slumber.“You certainly don’t,” Merlin mumbled as he went to his side of the room.“I’m sorry, Merlin.” He stopped to look at me. “I’m such an inconvenience in your life.” I was sorry. I didn’t think that I was going to be roomed with someone once I arrived at Ealdor and on top of that, with someone who would hate me so much. “I’ll ask around tomorrow and find somewhere else to go. You don’t have to—”“No!”“It’s okay, you don’t have to be polite!”“No, Arthur. I don’t want you to...stay with someone else. I’ve made you feel like you’re not welcome in our village, and all you’ve done is help us. You are very kind, and very giving, and I’ve been ungrateful.” He paused for a moment and we simply looked at each other. “I’m just used to people coming and going, and basically looking for what they can get, and I just thought…”“That I was the same?” He nodded. “I don’t blame you. I get that a lot.” He smiled, and I felt weak at the knees again. “Anyway, it’s getting late...we should…”“Right.” He turned towards the door, and began to set the locks up. I quickly took advantage of the fact that he had his back towards me to change clothes and get in the bed. I was hard. Something about being around Merlin—I couldn’t help myself. The cool breeze would flow through the room at night, and I’d get a whiff of his scent. It was as though this was happening on purpose. Someone really wanted to torture me!It was as if my animal instincts had taken over and all I wanted to do was mate with him. What was wrong with me? What was worse was that we had to share a bed, again. He turned to look at me and saw me in bed, and I’d covered my entire body. He turned the lights out—just in time—because I heard that noise again. The same chaotic, panicking noise from the night before.A few moments later I felt Merlin’s weight on the bed. I took a deep breath in and turned.“Are you alright?” His voice startled me.“Yeah, why?” I wasn’t sure what he was referring to. No, I was not alright.“Your breathing is funny,” he said.“My breathing?” I attempted to sound cynical, even mocking. He’d noticed my nervousness, could he tell? “I’m just scared of those...things.” It was the truth. Maybe not the whole truth, but truth nonetheless. “And I’m worried about Hunith.”“Thanks,” he said, almost in a whisper. I didn’t answer, I was smiling only to realise that it was dark and he couldn’t see me. “You’re just saying that because you don’t want to sound like a prat,” he teased me.I turned to face him. “Well, I gave you a chance to toss me out.”“I’ll have to rethink my decision again.” I was definitely grinning now, and I was glad he couldn’t see me.“Goodnight, Merlin.”“Goodnight, Arthur.” --* I woke up the next day and found myself alone in bed. Also, the bed was only half a bed. Merlin had managed to quietly move his half of the bed to one corner of the room.“Sorry, did I wake you?”I shook my head. “No, I just…” felt your absence. I quickly got up off the bed and looked around. I felt like a lost puppy. Merlin only laughed at me.“Why don’t you shower first, and I’ll set up the room.” Merlin nodded and waited for me to acknowledge his words. “Then we can practice the layout of the room so we can walk in the dark.”I turned to get my things when he spoke again. “Oh, and I’ve sent your clothes for laundry. They should be delivered back washed and dried by the afternoon. I left a pair of trousers for you to wear and you can borrow my shirt.“Erm…” I was at a loss for words at Merlin’s kindness. “I—”“I’m sorry if you’re upset that I went through your things. I really only just grabbed the clothes and gave them to Sania, she’s the lady that cares for the building,” he explained. “I just didn’t want to wake you, you looked so…”“So what?”“Nothing...just peaceful. Sorry.” He turned away from me and began fumbling at his things. That was so odd. Just the night before, wasn’t he calling me a prat? And now he was acting so—“I’ll just go and shower then.” He didn’t turn, and I left the room. By the time I returned, Merlin had set the room up and our beds were against the wall—opposite from each other—as opposed to joined together. I was curiously gloomy about this fact. --* It was a long day at the clinic, and the day after, in fact, the entire week was miserable. I worked long, hard hours, and it seemed as though nothing was really making a difference. The same patients were returning every other day, saying that the medicine was wearing off quickly.Gaius was running out of time and Merlin was running out of patience; they were working diligently to diagnose the problem and create the potions.The evenings were the same. We’d eat with Gaius most of the nights and walk back to our quarters. Some nights Sania would provide us with a meal. I had worked out how to walk about the room with perfect ease as well. We were settling in, but I felt odd. This didn’t feel the same as it did when I stayed with Elyan; we used to talk well into the night, finishing off whatever moonshine we could find. Maybe that’s why things hadn’t worked out with Elyan. We had also eventually given into a craving. Merlin was far too focused for that.His number one concern was caring for his mother, and his number two was caring for everyone else.“Do you ever have fun?” I asked him one night on our walk back “home.” We’d been living together for a few months now.“Fun?” He raised his eyebrow and looked at me. “I am far too busy and I...read...before going to bed.”“Yeah, medical books, research. When was the last time you went dancing?”“Dancing?” There was that eyebrow again. “What has gotten into you?”“Sania told me yesterday that a group of them get together on Saturday evenings, lock themselves inside, and enjoy music and food and dancing until the sun comes up. Why don’t you ever go to that?”“Do you want to go?” he asked.No, genius! I only asked because I don’t want to go. “I thought it would something fun we could try out,” I said, attempting not to roll my eyes. “Something different from what we do every day and night.”“We?”Honestly. “Yeah, it’d be no fun without you.”“I doubt I’d be much fun.”“Why?” I was about to ask more. Why was it that Merlin was so closed off and reserved? I’d watched him interact with other people and his patients. He was full of life, loved making jokes with everyone. Then why would he think that he was no fun at all?“Arthur!” A familiar voice called out to me as we were about to reach home. It was Gwen, and she had Lancelot with her.I called out to them and rushed to take Gwen in my arms. I’d missed her. I’d missed familiar faces. “Lance, how are you?” I shook the man’s hand. He looked as healthy as ever.“Brilliant!” he answered with a smile and turned to look at Merlin.“Oh, this is Merlin. We live...together.” That sounded odd.“Yeah?” Gwen grinned slyly and I had to stop her at her tracks.“It’s not like that,” I said. “He’s been kind enough to let me stay with him until I find more permanent accommodation.”“How long have you been in Ealdor?” Lance asked me as Gwen is hanging onto my arm but really is looking Merlin up and down.“About three months,” I answered, only to realise that perhaps staying with Merlin was my permanent accommodation. “Well, we’ve been busy, the curse started off from here, there are a lot more sick people—” I was failing at making my point.“Do you folks have a place to stay?” Merlin asked, interrupting my semi-incoherent rambling.“Not yet,” Lance answered. “We just arrived and were told to speak with someone named Sania.”“Yes, she takes care of the building here.” Merlin pointed towards the housing. “But, she isn’t here today. On Thursdays, she stays with my mother.”“Oh,” Gwen said, disappointed. I was about to jump in, offer them my bed when Merlin spoke again.“She’ll be here at first thing sunrise. I can leave a note out for her to come by and speak with you. For the night, you are more than welcome to sleep in my bed and I’ll sleep on the floor.”I led the way to our quarters and Gwen and Lance followed.“We couldn’t possibly take your bed,” Gwen said, just as I had predicted she would. “Lance and I are perfectly happy on the floor. Really.”“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “We are not going to have an argument about this. You two are my guests, you should sleep in my bed and I will sleep on the floor.” I turned to Merlin and raised my finger at him. “Don’t argue with me.”Of course Merlin argued with me.After what seemed like twenty minutes of negotiations, I’m not really sure how it happened, but Gwen and Lance were all set to sleep in my bed and I was to share Merlin’s bed. I didn’t have a reason to say no besides that it was too small—which in truth—it really wasn’t.Lance headed for the showers first and Merlin made an excuse to leave the room. I reckoned he was just as uncomfortable with this as I was. Gwen sat me down next to her on the bed, saying she wanted to speak with me.“Elyan…” she began. My heart began beating rapidly.“Gwen, I—” I didn’t know what to say.“He came to Nemeth,” she said, sympathetically. “He was so ashamed of himself. He told me he felt as though he betrayed your trust—”“He didn’t—” I didn’t know what to say. I missed Elyan, he was one of my best friends but what happened between us wasn’t entirely his fault. I could have also stopped it.“I tried to convince him to come with us, but—” She looked up at the door and stopped talking, for Merlin was standing there.“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude…” Merlin struggled but Lancelot was right behind him and whatever conversation Gwen and I were having was thwarted. I awkwardly stood up from my bed and Lance took my spot.Gwen left shortly afterwards for the shower, leaving me alone in the room with Lance and Merlin. The two of them hit it off immediately and didn’t seem to stop talking. I felt more awkward. I sat on Merlin’s bed, touching over the area where he usually slept, while he sat next to Lance and chatted away.Merlin could talk and he loved it. He was the most entertaining and lively person I had ever met. But there was also something about him, a guilt that sort of hung over his head, and that he never shared with anyone. There was a secret he was concealing from everyone. I could feel it, I just didn’t know how to find out about it.If things continued the way they did between him and Lance, I wondered if I could get Gwen to find out for me.I’d felt extremely uneasy sitting on Merlin’s bed without him, but when he came and sat next to me, I was even more self-conscious. He seemed the opposite of me, as though he had done this before so many times—shared beds with friends—that he didn’t have a problem.I turned over and lay on my side against the wall. Shortly after he’d given instructions on how to go about the room in the dark and not turn on the lights; Merlin was next to me. I held my breath, afraid to breathe, afraid to move, afraid to think. I feared my body betraying me.“Arthur,” he whispered. For a moment I thought I’d imagined it then Merlin gently touched my arm. “Are you asleep?” he asked.I turned as quietly as I could. “No.”“Who is Elyan?”“What?” I almost spat out the word.“Is he someone who hurt you?” Even in his whispers, I could hear the concern.“He’s Gwen’s brother,” I answered. “We were best friends and we travelled together for a while…”“Were you together?” he asked. There’s nothing I wouldn’t have given in that moment to see Merlin’s face. Why was he asking? Was he merely curious? Concerned? Jealous?“No, not really…” I offered. “We just had...he left.” I was still hurt. I wasn’t hurt that I had been used, but I felt abandoned by my best friend. He could have said something, we could have talked, we could have pretended it never happened.“Hmm.” Merlin slowly moved his hand around on the bed until he found mine and held it for a moment. “As long as it doesn’t still make you sad.”I squeezed his hand back and let go. I was afraid that if I held on it for a bit longer, I might have leaned in and kissed Merlin, might have searched for his lips. “Thanks, Merlin.”“Goodnight, Arthur.”“Goodnight, Merlin.” --* The next morning I woke up alone in Merlin’s bed. Gwen and Lance were still asleep on mine. They looked perfect together, even in slumber. I couldn’t help but be a bit jealous. I wished Merlin had stayed. There was a note on the door from Merlin stating that he’d already spoken with Sania and that she had breakfast and a room ready for Gwen and Lance.After breakfast, we headed over to the clinic and I introduced Gaius to Gwen and Lance. Merlin was in the apothecary mixing up potions, and Gwen went to work with him. Lance and I did what I usually did every morning. We transferred patients from bed to bed, changing the linens, then transported the laundry. After lunch, we helped in the construction of the third wing of the clinic. In my three months in Ealdor, I’d assisted in the construction of the second wing.“The other villages—the people are beginning to be cured,” Lance said, as we’d taken a break in the late afternoon. “In Nemeth, for example, there’s very little to no reversion of the curse.”“And what of the people that are being claimed as incurable?” I asked. I was sure that the nightcrawlers or whatever they were calling the severely infected, were in other villages as well.“There aren’t that many, and those that exist, they are mostly locked up in isolation as the physicians try to determine their mental state,” Lance answered. He told me that, in every village he and Gwen had been to, there were more cured than infected. I didn’t understand what was so different about Ealdor that people weren’t getting healed completely. --* Two nights later, after they were settled in, Gwen invited Merlin and me over for dinner. I tried to tell her several times that Merlin and I weren’t a couple but she wouldn’t budge. The least I could do was convince her to not mention it in front of Merlin.She laughed and called us “cute.” I was embarrassed. I didn’t even know if Merlin was interested in me—I didn’t even know if Merlin fancied blokes. I had assumed—hoped—he did. But I had no evidence to prove it either way.“This is rather early for dinner isn’t it?” Merlin asked, the sun wasn’t going to set for hours. I had thought so as well, but, unlike Merlin, I wasn’t rude.“Sania’s told us about the Saturday evening festivities in Avalon,” Gwen said and my heart leapt with joy. Finally someone was interested in having fun. “We were thinking of going and staying there for the night. Why don’t the two of you come? Surely you’re not working tomorrow.”“Merlin works every day,” I answered before he could get the chance. I saw why she thought we were a couple. “We go in late on Sundays, but we work Sundays. As Gaius says…”“Disease does not take a holiday,” Merlin said, and I laughed. “Arthur works every day as well,” he added. “He just likes to tell me people that I am the do-gooder and he’s…”“I’ll come with you,” I chimed in before Merlin could say anything else. “Merlin can stay here and rot if he so wishes.”“What makes you think I don’t want to go?”“I don’t know… I didn't think you’d be any fun,” I mocked him.Merlin gasped and threw a piece of bread at me. We turned to look at Gwen and Lance who were simply staring at us. I looked at Merlin who flushed with embarrassment, and I was sure that I was sporting red cheeks myself.“We’ll help you clean up and then we should be off,” I said, straightening myself up. I could only imagine what they were thinking. I was a fool to entertain the idea that there was something more between Merlin and me, and now others around me were beginning to see my foolishness as well.We arrived at Avalon, the pub, ten minutes before they closed their doors. We were led down a narrow passageway, and before our entry we needed to go through a “health check.” I reckoned they wanted to make sure that they didn’t let anyone infected in to the venue.Merlin knew nearly everyone there and they all seemed happy to see him. Although, there was one who did not look as pleased. A young man sitting in the corner, he looked at me, glared really, and then looked away.I spotted Kara, a local girl who helps out at the clinic, and approached her. “Kara, do you know who that is?” I asked, pointing at the man in the corner. He saw me looking at Kara, he stood up and walked away.“Oh, that’s Mordred,” she said. I’d never heard of him. “You know, Freya’s brother.”“Freya?” I asked. I had never heard that name either.“Don’t you know about Freya?” she asked me as though I had been living under a rock. “You live with Merlin and you don’t know Freya?”I shook my head. I had no idea what to say. She sighed and walked away, leaving me confused and intrigued at the same time. My thoughts were interrupted immediately when Gwen pulled me in for a dance.“Gwen,” I whispered in her ear and she looked at me. She knew I wanted a favour. “Can you find out who Freya is…and Mordred.”“Now?” she asked, surprised.“No, not now. Whenever you can...do that thing you do and find out…” I laughed and she joined me. A moment later, Gwen, Lance and I were dancing together and I could see that Merlin was watching us from the corner of the room.Gwen always had the most energy of any woman I’d ever known. At times it made me feel sorry for Lance. We danced together for what felt like an hour before I was allowed to take a break. As I tore myself apart from the group, I turned to find Merlin holding a glass of water for me.“Thanks,” I said and I drank it as if I hadn’t had water for days.“You looked good out there,” he said. I shook my head. “What?” he asked.“Don’t mock me,” I said, handing my glass back to Merlin as he refilled it for me. “At least I was having fun.”“Are you really suggesting, I don’t know how to have fun?” he asked, looking offended. I shrugged. Before I knew it, the music had changed and Merlin had pulled me into the crowd.The only thing that was beating faster than my heart was the music. Merlin placed his hand on my hip and pulled me in towards him. The crowd cheered. He began to lead me in circles around the room and I matched him beat for beat. He tried to trick me, switching moves mid-tempo, but I caught up with him. All those years of Morgana dragging me to dance lessons with her had finally paid off. I made a mental note to thank her if I ever saw her again.The music changed and it was my turn to lead. I slid my right hand under Merlin’s shirt, feeling his skin under my fingertips for the first time. It felt as though I’d had an electric shock. Merlin was warm. Warmer than normal.I pulled him towards me and twirled him around. It wasn’t long before he picked up on my moves. I hadn’t realised that Merlin knew how to waltz. The beat was too fast, yet Merlin could move with me. Eventually, the music stopped and he was arched up against my hip. The crowd cheered and the music changed again. Gwen jumped up towards us and hugged us frantically.“Arthur, I have missed dancing with you and watching you dance so much!” she squealed.Lance slapped me on the shoulder. “Thanks for making me look bad in front of my girl, mate.”I was winded, and I was having difficulty breathing. I turned to look at Merlin and he looked equally flushed. I straightened myself up and shook his hand. “Alright, Merlin,” I said, “I’ll give it to you, you know how to have fun.”“How did you learn to dance like that?” Gwen asked.“Growing up—my friends, Freya and Mordred, we attended classes together and entered school competition and things…” Merlin spoke softly, as though he was carefully choosing his words. I saw his eyes trail around the room, as if he was looking for someone. Mordred?“Is that why you don’t come here?” I asked, unable to help myself. “You’re avoiding Mordred.” Merlin looked at me with a piercing glare that cut right through me as though it were a sharp knife. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.”“Yeah, it’s not.” He turned and stormed away from me, as I looked at Gwen and Lance, defeated.We eventually found a corner in the room to curl up into and fall asleep. Lance held Gwen and they slept on their side against the wall. I was facing the room with the wall behind me. I missed Merlin. I wished he’d stayed with me for the night but I wouldn’t have even known how to ask him if I tried. In the middle of the night, I groggily woke up and saw Merlin and Mordred talking. Merlin looked apologetic and Mordred looked livid.A moment later, Mordred was holding Merlin’s hand. It wasn’t in anger, it looked rather romantic, I thought. Merlin looked down at Mordred’s hand that was holding his then he looked at me. Our eyes met. Merlin didn’t react. Mordred turned to look at me next and I immediately closed my eyes. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but starting a brawl in the middle of the night in a club, which was under the ground to hide from nightcrawlers, wasn’t exactly my idea of fun.I must have fallen asleep immediately after, because the next thing I knew, Gwen was waking me up, and it was sunrise. It was time to head home, shower, and start my shift at the clinic. Gwen, Lance and I waited by the doors for Merlin but he never arrived. I wondered if I should have stayed back for him, but I knew that if I had stayed, Gwen and Lance would have stayed with me.Two hours later, I was at the clinic. Merlin arrived an hour after that, with a bloody nose, and a swollen lip.“What happened?” Gaius asked, before I got the chance to.“Mordred.” Merlin looked at Gaius who simply nodded. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”“With Mordred, that’s never the case,” Gaius answered. He turned towards the cabinet and brought out some gauges and medicine and tended to Merlin.“Who is Mordred and why is no one outraged by this?” I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t just stand there and stay in the dark. I was in the dark about too many things. What was this curse, why was it worst in Ealdor? What exactly were these nightcrawlers? Why did Hunith still keep relapsing? And why were the medicines no longer working? And now new questions were popping up everywhere. About Mordred...and Freya.“Well, we’re not lovers anymore, that’s for sure,” Merlin joked and Gaius chuckled. “But I thought we’d moved past all this hostility, especially after we lost...Freya.”There was that name again.“Who is Freya?” I asked taking a seat next to Merlin. Gaius was still tending to him and Merlin’s gaze was towards the roof. Gaius told him to not move.“She’s Mordred’s sister,” Gaius answered.“And Mordred is your boyfriend?”“Was my boyfriend,” Merlin corrected me.“And Freya died from the curse?”“Sort of…” Merlin paused. Gaius handed a paste to Merlin and he began applying it on his swollen lip. I was staring at Merlin’s lip, unashamedly. Even if it was swollen, I wanted nothing more than to lean in and bite it. Merlin caught me staring.“I think I am owed some explanations.”Merlin sighed and looked at Gaius who nodded. They had this understanding between each other, it was inspiring and yet, I was jealous. Gaius left the room and closed the curtains behind him. I settled into the bed, knowing that this was going to be a very long conversation. Or so I’d hoped. I just wanted to know everything about Merlin. Everything.“Freya, Mordred and I grew up together…” Merlin began and I nodded. I knew that much. “We were always very close, and as you may imagine, when you grow up doing everything with someone...there’s usually conflict, attraction.”“Freya fancied you?” I asked.Merlin’s eyes confirmed it. They had a sort of sad look, as though he was regretting that she did. “Yeah, and Mordred, too.” I didn’t blame them. Merlin was hard not to be attracted to.“And you’re gay, so you naturally…” I assumed Merlin was gay, he could have been bisexual. He could have shagged both Freya and Mordred. I tried not to think about that. Mordred was bloody gorgeous, and I was sure that Freya was beautiful too. A pang of jealousy rose up my spine.“So now you’ve found the problem,” Merlin answered. So, definitely gay then. Not bisexual. “I wished I wasn’t gay. I mean I didn’t want to be so different from everyone else. I wished that I could love Freya the way she loved me. But, then I found out that Mordred was gay too, and we grew closer as friends, it was something we could share—with each other. Freya became increasingly jealous of us and she—”“She what?” I asked. Merlin had suddenly stopped talking.“We don’t talk about it, but there’s something you should know,” he said. His look was grave. I waited eagerly for him to tell me what it was. “Ealdor is a land of magic.”“Magic?” My voice could not have been condescending enough. Sure, we’d all heard the tales. The old kingdom of Camelot was engulfed with magic until an evil king started punishing everyone who performed magic, and everyone that practiced the craft had to go into hiding. But that tale was over two thousand years old.“Shh! Yeah, it’s true.”“Can you do magic?”“No, but my ancestors could. In this day and age, it is very rare for a child to be born with magic. And Freya...Freya was one of them.”I scoffed. I didn’t mean to be so rude but I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Curses aside, but actual, real magic? Was Merlin being serious.“It’s true, Arthur. Do you want to hear the story or not?”“Okay, yes,” I admitted. Merlin was sharing a secret with me, and regardless of how absurd the secret was, he’d never been so open with me before. Besides which, I would listen to him even if it was only to recite the contents of his medicine book from cover to cover.“Freya...some say...and I believe them, I believe them now. I should have believed them earlier. They think that Freya cast the curse. She cast the curse on me, on my mother, she wanted us to suffer. And the curse—it was like a disease—airborne and we gave it to others. She wanted to punish me; she wanted to make me watch my mother suffer. So I could—”“You could what, Merlin?” His face was pale and he looked as though he was holding back his tears. “Your mother is safe, she’s out of danger for now,” I tried to comfort him. I squeezed his shoulder with my right hand. I would have done anything for him not to be so hurt.“She wanted me to leave Mordred; she wanted me to marry her, give her a child.”“So she placed a curse on you?”“Yeah, but it didn’t work. I mean, you know how I get sick but I can still manage to function?” I nodded at his question. I was always intrigued by that. “Gaius thinks it was my body resisting the curse. I wasn’t dying, not the way she’d wanted me to. We’d only been spreading the curse. She said she’d placed the curse on herself too. That we’d have to mate, so she could live. She fell quite ill, and Mordred…” He paused for a moment. “Mordred wanted me to give her what she wanted, so she could live.”“You don’t really believe that, do you?” I asked. She really would have lived if Merlin had mated with her?“After she cursed me, Mordred and I, we stopped…” He didn’t say it but I knew what he meant. “He left and she only got worse. He told me to try...to marry her, to have a child with her, so she could live. I didn’t want to believe her; I didn’t want to believe him. Then a year later, she was gone. And I suppose to this day—”“He blames you.”A tear rolled from Merlin’s eye and I caught it with my finger.“You can’t really believe that, though?” I asked. “I mean, curses, and magic. This is just a plague and we’ll have to figure out—”“But everyone is always getting sick; even after they get better. Everyone I touch...Don’t you see, Arthur, I am the curse!”“Is that why you work in the back, so you don’t have to touch people?”“Everyone I touch gets sick.”I ran my hand over Merlin’s cheek. “You touch me...you touched me last night when we were dancing.”“I try not to,” he whispered. His gaze was towards his hands and I wished for him to look up at me. I wished I could read his eyes, his thoughts.“Do you want to?”Merlin immediately looked up at me then. As though my question had startled him. Unfortunately, I didn’t get my answer at that moment.“There you two are!” Gwen came bursting through the curtains. “I have been looking everywhere for you, Merlin. And Arthur, Lance is asking for you.” I stood up immediately and left the room. I didn’t want to make Merlin any more uncomfortable than he was already feeling.That night, I was awake all night thinking over what Merlin had told me. A woman, a scorned woman, had cursed Merlin out of love and jealousy. She’d made it impossible for them to live, unless they mated. And now, according to Merlin, anyone he came across was getting the plague. Did that mean that eventually I would get sick too?Freya died because she didn’t mate with Merlin. Was Merlin to slowly die as well? I wondered if Merlin’s curse only required him to shag Freya to be cured, or whether could he shag anyone. Even Mordred?“What are you thinking about?” Merlin. He was always able to tell when I was awake. Even in the darkness.“How’d you know—?”“Your breathing. It’s not very soothing at the moment.”“Sorry, I didn’t realise it bothers you so much,” I teased.“It doesn’t. Just wondering if you’re thinking about Elyan.”“Elyan?” I asked, shocked. I hadn’t thought about Elyan in days. “Why?”“I overheard Gwen speaking with Lance that he was due to visit. I thought maybe she told you—”“Well, she hasn’t yet,” I snapped. “And I am not thinking about him.”“Good,” he said.Sometimes, I really didn’t understand Merlin. “Why good—?”“Goodnight, Arthur.”I let out an exasperated sigh. “Goodnight, Merlin.” --* The week continued as it did, and nothing really seemed to change, especially not between Merlin and me. Gwen did manage to get some information on Freya and Mordred, but it wasn’t anything I already didn’t know. It seemed that the villagers did believe that Freya had caused the curse, and no one blamed Merlin. It also appeared that only a few of them knew about Freya’s “escape” from the curse, the “loophole.” No one knew, besides a handful who didn’t really believe, that Freya had caused the curse to bond Merlin to herself.I began to question my own beliefs. I didn’t believe in the old religion, in magic. Certainly, I’d heard of it, but it was all hearsay, wasn’t it?I also questioned my attraction towards Merlin. Was I fascinated with him because of the curse? I knew, I could feel in my heart that Merlin was attracted to me as well—was that because of the curse?My days and nights continued with these thoughts. Every day I’d see Merlin and every day I’d wonder if my feelings were real or was it all just some sort of magic?I thought about asking him. I thought about asking how he felt about me, but I didn’t even know how to approach the subject. Even if Merlin was aware that the curse was slowly killing him, would he really have sex with someone just to save himself? He still seemed pretty hung up on Mordred. Maybe he wanted Mordred, and maybe Mordred wouldn’t have him after what had happened with Freya.I was lost in my thoughts as I walked home alone that evening. I didn’t even realise that someone was calling out to me. A hand tapped my shoulder.“Arthur!”“Elyan.” To say that I was surprised was an understatement. I had completely forgotten that he was due to visit. I didn’t know when, but I should have been expecting it.“How are you?” Elyan asked as he awkwardly stood in front of me. I was unsure, as am sure he was too, whether we should have hugged, shook hands or just stood there.“Fine. I heard you were going to come by,” I said. It was all I could say in that moment. I saw Merlin walking towards us from behind Elyan.“Your friend Merlin, I met him in the market when I was with Gwen and he told me that you two stay together.” There was something odd about Elyan’s tone but I didn’t want to read too much into it. I simply nodded.“I have been speaking with Sania, to see if we can find a place for Elyan. She believes, there won’t be anything available for at least a week,” Merlin said. I looked at him and nodded. Merlin too, was looking at me rather strangely.“Gwen said I could stay with her,” Elyan said and I nodded again, lost at words.“You can stay in our room,” Merlin offered, and I looked at him shocked. What was he saying? “I mean, I can stay with my mother for a week…”Elyan began shaking his head. “No,” I said, before Elyan could say anything. “Don’t be stupid, Merlin, it’s your place and I am staying with you. I am not going to allow you to go anywhere.” I looked at Merlin. “I’m sure Gwen’s will be fine for a week?”“Yes, it’ll be perfectly alright.”“Great, it’s settled then,” I said, determinedly. “It’s good to see you, Elyan.”“Gwen’s invited you to dinner,” Merlin told me.“And you?” I asked.“Well, I thought I was going to my mother’s…”“So now you’re not.” I spoke again. “So we’ll be going to Gwen’s. I’d bought some wine yesterday from the market, I am sure we can take that. Unless you drank it this afternoon?” I raised my eyebrow playfully. I was becoming quite at ease with flirting with Merlin, despite my doubts about what it all meant.I knew Elyan was watching us, but I didn’t turn to look at him. I followed Merlin towards our quarters. Just before the turn to the hallway where we’d go right for our room—and Elyan would have to go up the stairs a few flights for Gwen’s—I nodded to him, and said we’d see him later. Merlin had already left my side when I was speaking to Elyan.“If you wouldn’t mind, Arthur,” Elyan said, taking advantage of our alone time, “I’d like it if we talked.”“Of course,” I said to Elyan, softly. He was still my friend after everything but an instinct inside me told me to make sure that Merlin knew that there was nothing between Elyan and I.I returned to the room and Merlin was sitting on his bed, shirtless. By now, we had gotten used to be at ease around each other and weren’t so shy anymore. It worked to my advantage, really—I devoured any opportunity of watching Merlin get undressed.I did my best to ignore Merlin when I entered the room and searched for the bottle of wine.“Arthur, I really am okay with Elyan staying here, if you want—if you two want—”“If we want, what?” I snapped. My feelings for Merlin were already taking a toll on me, I did not need this added stress.“If you want to reconcile,” he said.“Reconcile?” I nearly well screamed. “God, Merlin, I didn’t take you to be so stupid. Annoying, yes. A bit of a know-it-all, sure. Impatient, definitely. But stupid?”“What is your problem?” he had the audacity to ask.“My problem?” I dropped the bottle of wine on my bed and walked towards Merlin’s bed. He stood up as well and walked towards me. He was still without a shirt. I felt the heat between us as we stood inches apart. His hair swept across his forehead. I wanted to run my fingers through it. I wanted to touch him, God, I would have done anything to wrap my hands around the back of his neck and pull him in.“We’ll be late for dinner,” he said, breaking my concentration. I sighed, hung my head low and nodded.“Yeah, you’re right.” I turned around and walked back towards my bed and grabbed the bottle I’d tossed onto it moments earlier. Merlin dressed, and a few short minutes later we were out the door. --* Dinner was fun. On the outside, it looked like it was fun for everyone. Gwen was ecstatic to have her brother back and Lance was happy whenever Gwen was happy. She wouldn’t stop telling stories of Elyan and me to Lance and Merlin. All the trouble we got into as children; how my father had instilled fear in all of us.Gwen even mentioned Morgana, and I felt immediately disheartened. I missed her. I hadn’t seen Morgana in almost a year. We weren’t the closest growing up, but she was still family.“I didn’t know you had a sister,” Merlin said, when he finally spoke a few words for the night.“Half-sister,” I said, and he looked at me confused, as if that mattered. “I know, she ran away the first chance she had. I didn’t blame her.”“Do you want to see her again?” he asked.“Of course, I do. I miss her a lot. I thought if things ever settled down around here, maybe I’d travel, go searching for her.”“What’s stopping you now?” Merlin asked. I looked at him, I mean, really looked at him. What was wrong with this bloke? I shook my head and looked towards Gwen who simply shook her head. Evidently, she saw what Merlin couldn’t.“It’s getting late,” I said as I finished the last of my meal. “Thank you so much, Gwen, it was delicious, all of it.”“We’ll help you clean up,” Merlin said.“No don’t,” Gwen insisted. “We’ll be here, and we’re not going anywhere. Thanks so much for the wine, Arthur.”I looked at Elyan just before I left. “We’ll talk tomorrow?” I asked. “You’ll get a tour of the grounds tomorrow?”“Are you offering?” he asked, hesitantly.“Of course,” I said with a smile. I could see in Elyan’s eyes how desperate he was to speak to me, to ask for my forgiveness, my friendship. And I was willing to offer these things to him. But not in front of Merlin. I was tired of Merlin getting the wrong idea.We said our goodbyes, and five minutes later Merlin and I were on our way back. When we returned to our room, Merlin was avoiding eye contact with me again.“Merlin?”“Yeah?” He still didn’t turn. Instead, he was acting though he was preparing his bed.“Do you no longer wish to room with me?”“Why do you ask that?” He turned around immediately, that had caught his attention.“You’re so insistent on me living with Elyan, you might as well ask me to find a room with him.” Until the words hadn’t come out, I hadn’t realised how livid I was. I really wondered if Merlin didn’t want to stay with me. And if he didn't, why didn’t he just say so?“It’s not like that,” he said, his voice shaky a bit. “I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t in the way of…”“For crying out loud, Merlin.” I was in his space before he could breathe out another ridiculous word. “Do you want to know why I haven’t gone looking for my sister yet?”He didn’t say anything, he simply stared into my eyes. I heard him gulp and his Adam’s apple bobbed.“I don’t want to leave you,” I said, not waiting for him to really tell me if he wanted to know or not. I wanted him to know. “Because, I want you. I think about you every night when I lie alone in my bed. Cold. Wishing for your warmth.”“Your body is unusually cold,” he said, as though he was trying to figure out a puzzle.“No, your body is unusually warm,” I argued. “Because you’re always running a fever, because you have the disease and yet you won’t rest. Because you need to take care of yourself, find someone to fuck, or you will die.” There I said it. I said what I had been thinking ever since I found out what was wrong with Merlin. I wanted him to know that I didn’t want him to die. That I needed him to live, for me, with me.“Do you know why Mordred punched me?” he asked, looking up into my eyes again. I ran the back of my hand against his arm and his body shivered. He closed his eyes for a brief moment.“Tell me, why?” I said. I wanted to lean in, right then and there and kiss him—push him against the bed, drop on my knees—something!The doorknob rattled. Shit, I hadn’t locked the doors.I let go of Merlin’s arm and ran towards the door. It opened a crack and I could see a man, with a crazy look in his eyes, his retinas the colour of blood. He was trying to push the door open wider, and I could see others behind him. This had been the first time I’d ever seen the nightcrawlers, and they were more terrifying than I’d imagined."Merlin!" I yelled and he came next to me, pushing the door closed, placing the deadbolts on, starting with the one on top.Slowly we locked each one and turned the lights off. We had been so careless. I had been so careless."It’s okay, I think we’re okay," Merlin whispered as we held each other against the door in the dark. As strange as it had been, this was the closest I had been to Merlin’s body since that night we danced in Avalon. I pulled him closer, held him tighter, wrapping my arm around his waist.I wasn’t scared. Not anymore, I had Merlin. I just didn’t want to let him go."So tell me," I whispered in return. We were still against the door, as though our body weight was the thing that was holding the door shut."Tell you what?" he asked. He was nuzzling in my neck and I trailed my right hand up from the small of his back to the back of his head."Why Mordred punched you," I said, and I placed a kiss on top of his head. There was no stopping me now.His laughter was muffled in my neck. I pulled him closer, if that were even possible. I wanted to engulf myself in that heat. There was a fire burning inside me now and it was caused only by Merlin. I wanted him desperately, needed him."He believed Freya’s curse to be true, he still does," Merlin said. My hand was massaging the back of his neck and Merlin leaned into that touch. I couldn’t see him, but I felt every part of his body that was pressed against mine."And?" I asked, my voice quivering."He wanted to know if I wanted to get back together with him. Maybe that he could help me, with the curse, since we’d be—together." I could hear the hesitation in Merlin’s voice and I was glad he couldn’t see the rage on my face."But I told him, I wasn’t interested. That I had more pressing matters at hand and that if I wanted the curse to be broken in such a way, I’d rather—""Rather, what?""I’d rather it be you—" Before Merlin could finish his sentence my lips were on his and I had him pressed against the door. He was kissing me back, and I smiled mid-kiss. Then I was pushing into him so hard that I feared that I would have broken the door. I pulled him towards me again, and I led him, in the dark, to his bed.“Why are we going towards my bed?” he asked. He always needed a reason to argue, didn’t he?“Would you rather we go to mine?” I asked him, in between kissing him on the neck, then his cheek, then claiming his lips again.“No,” he said, I could hear the teasing in his voice. “Since we’re already here.” He pushed me onto his bed and got on top of me. I would have done anything to see the look on his face, to give him the look of want I knew was in my eyes.I struggled with my hands to untuck his shirt, to take it off him and throw it onto the floor. He on the other hand, took his time with me. His hands grabbed my waist and they leisurely trailed up, under my shirt until he reached my shoulders then he removed my shirt. His fingers were studying my body in the dark and I closed my eyes and hit my head against the pillow. I felt his hands all over me, I felt his desire for me.I jerked up almost involuntarily and he let out a chuckle as he pressed onto my cock with his arse. I began to imagine his arse then, I was allowed to. I often used to make my mind deviate from such thoughts, when we first met, but more recently I couldn’t help but notice how Merlin’s trousers always made his arse look just so perfect. My hands reached down from his waist and squeezed his arse. He began to grind on me as he pinched my right nipple. Then he leaned down to kiss me.Everything about Merlin felt incredible. His body was so warm. When our bare chests touched, I wanted to pull him into me and keep him there for as long as I could.As he was kissing me, he balanced himself on his knees and his hands trailed down towards my trousers. He unbuckled my belt and took a hold of my erection, pushing my trousers down. When he began stroking me I was so afraid that I would come right then and there. Then his tongue licked my prick, and soon his wet mouth all but enveloped my cock.“Fuck, Merlin,” I groaned. I couldn’t see, and it all made everything more—sensational. My hands were in his hair, tugging on his locks, steadying his rhythm as he moaned around my cock, and I fucked his mouth. His hands moved down from my waist to my thighs as they rubbed me, and I knew I was going to come at any moment. He sucked harder. “Fuck,” I said again—his hands massaging me everywhere. I came undone, spilling into his mouth and he didn’t flinch, nor stop. He took in everything I had to offer.“God, Merlin. That was…” I pulled him up with my fingers still tangled in his locks and kissed him. God, I could taste myself on him. “That was fucking amazing,” I said. Another deep kiss as I refused to let go of Merlin's tongue from my mouth.My hand travelled down again and inside his trousers so that I held Merlin’s cock. I loved touching it, I wanted to lick it, I wanted to see it. I bit my lower lip.“I want to feel you, Arthur,” Merlin whispered in my ear, and followed it with a moan as my thumb circled around the head of his cock. “I want…”“Yes,” I whispered in return. I wanted to feel Merlin. I wanted him inside me, stretching my hole, fucking me with everything he had. I never wanted anything more in my life. There wasn’t a person in this world that I wanted more than Merlin. I was ready, I had been ready.I didn’t know if my ache for him was the curse; I didn’t know if his was either. All I knew in that moment that it had been months of attraction, weeks of longing and I wasn’t about to let my mind get in the way of my body’s need. This wasn’t like Elyan; with Elyan it had been a momentary lapse in judgement, giving into a physical need. With Merlin—I knew—it was so much more than that.Merlin left the bed for a moment and I felt his absence immediately. He returned, grabbed my hand and placed a phial in it. “Hold this for me,” he said. My cock twitched at how controlling his voice was. I felt his weight on the mattress. He was on his knees again, and a moment later, his hands were spreading my legs and his tongue was searching for my hole.His hands curved around to behind my thighs and I felt his hand gesturing me to lift up. I followed the unsaid command. He pushed in with his tongue. My groan was louder than it should have been, what happened next, shouldn’t have been so unexpected. Merlin pushed in with his tongue again and continued thrusting into me with it. I was melting away into him, fuck, I was getting hard again. His left hand reached up and grabbed my right where I was still holding on to the phial he’d placed there.I heard it open and I only assumed that Merlin spread the substance on his cock and on his fingers because after his tongue, I felt a slick finger enter me, soon there were two, then three.“Do you like that, Arthur?” he asked, in the most sultry voice possible. I reckoned that, since I couldn’t see him, he was more free to do what he pleased with me.“Yes, Merlin, I love it,” I said, hoarsely.He pulled out his fingers and then pushed them in me again. I moaned again. “Do you want to feel my cock? Do you want me inside you?”“Yes. Yes. Yes!” I knew I was practically begging, and I didn’t care. There was nothing I wanted more.It wasn’t long until he was thrusting into me, and I was pleading for more, asking him to push in further. He pushed in deeper and released a gratifying moan himself. “God, you feel amazing, Arthur. I don’t want to stop. I never want to—” Merlin was spilling himself inside me—it was hot—just like his body had always been. He continued thrusting as though he didn’t want to stop until he was completely spent, and a few more thrusts later, he collapsed on top of me. His limp cock was still inside me, and my legs were wrapped around his waist. It was incredible.I was hard again and my erection was now pressed in between our bodies. I knew I wanted more, it had been so long for me that I had been with someone, let alone someone that made me feel so alive. I wasn’t sure if Merlin was done—what he thought.“Switch with me,” Merlin said, as though he’d read my mind. I sat up on the bed. Soon he was on his knees and I was behind him. I couldn’t believe it, we were going to continue to fuck. “I know you’re hard again…” His hands hand found my neck and he pulled me in for a kiss. “I want to feel every part of you. I want to feel everything I can.”I pushed him on the bed and took the phial that he’d held onto; I was spreading the oil on my cock.It was my turn to fuck him with my fingers for a while before I pushed into him with my cock. My fingers dug into his hip, and he gasped with every movement. I leaned in and kissed the back of his neck then bit his shoulder.I pushed in a little bit further, my movements were slow. “You feel amazing,” I uttered; his reply was simply a groan. Merlin reached his arm back and rested his hand on my neck, pulling me in closer, indicating for me to continue, thrust harder. So I did.“Oh God, never stop,” Merlin begged, and I could do nothing else but obey his request.Every fibre of my being was coming alive. With each small thrust, I was getting deeper and deeper into Merlin as he pushed back to encourage me. He repeated my name over and over again. I pulled back for one last time and pushed into him; my body collapsed on top of his as I came, my mouth on his ear—calling his name—expressing my need for him.We cleaned up in the dark and fell into each other, our bodies twisting. My arm was wrapped around his waist and I don’t think I ever wanted to let him go. We feel asleep; Merlin fell asleep before me, and for the first time in my life, that night, I listened to his breathing.“Goodnight, Merlin,” I whispered in his ear.“Goodnight, Arthur,” he mumbled back. --* The next morning, I woke up to the feeling of Merlin’s fingers trailing my side.“What are you doing?” I asked, in almost a whisper. I didn’t want to disturb the peaceful moment.“Trying to savour the moment,” he answered.“Sorry, I woke up and ruined it for you,” I said, grinning. He grinned in return and kissed my nose. “Do you think Gaius will mind if we don’t go in today?”Merlin twisted his face as though he was really trying to think it through. “I think he would mind if we sent no word of our arrival. He might think we’ve fallen ill and send in the cavalry.” I groaned. “Yeah, it’s probably best if we get up.”“I need a few more minutes,” I said, refusing to let Merlin go from my grip.“We’ll be late. And we have to take Elyan with us.” Whatever mood that I was getting into, had just been killed. “Besides, we’ll probably save time if we shower together.”I was up and ready in no time. “Good, because I want to…”“Want to what?”“Watch you,” I said as I handed a towel to Merlin and he wrapped it around his waist. I turned to look at his bed that we’d both slept in. What a mess it was. “We probably can’t give the sheets for washing…”“Yeah, I’m afraid, we’ll have to do our own washing from now on—or at least part of it.”Ten minutes later, Merlin and I were washing our exhaustion away but were creating a whole new mess of things. It started with watching him stroke himself and me, as I inserted my soapy finger inside him. He hissed and bit his lip. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen him do. Now I knew the face to the sounds he’d made the night before.In that moment, I wanted him again. I pushed him against the wall. Using soap for lube I pushed myself inside him. He hissed again. This time, it wasn’t all pleasure.“Are you okay?”“Yeah, just burns a little.” He leaned against the wall and spread his legs for me.“If you want me to stop…”“Don’t you fucking dare, Arthur Pendragon.” It was the first time Merlin had ever said my name completely. It was in the most demanding tone I’d ever heard; my cock twitched with excitement and my body...almost instinctively, leaned into him.“Fuck,” I whispered. I watched myself fuck him, my cock going in and out of him. Everything I had felt last night had been intensified because I could actually see. It was bloody brilliant. I chuckled at the thought. “Bloody brilliant,” it’s something Merlin would have said.“Faster, Arthur. Harder,” Merlin instructed, and I followed. Then I was coming inside him, watching myself in him, feeling myself inside him; my arms wrapped around him across his chest. Then, I turned him around and my hand trailed down to take him and I stroked his cock until he was coming. I watched his face as he did. I wanted to keep that in my mind, because I knew later, that night, when we would do it again, I wouldn’t be able to see it.He opened his eyes and looked at me in surprise. “What?” he asked.“You’re sexy when you come,” I answered, with a grin and gave him soap again. This time it was really time for a shower.“Only when I come?” He raised an eyebrow and I leaned to kiss him again. Another something I didn’t think I’d ever get used to. --* We only had a few minutes left after the shower sex to get ready and meet with Elyan to take him to the clinic. We were going to show him around, then take him around the village. That had been the original plan—before Merlin and I—did what we did.As soon as we arrived at the clinic, Merlin headed for the lab. I introduced Elyan to Gaius and talked to him about our work at the clinic. Elyan listened intently, nodded at everything, but I knew—I could tell—he wasn’t really listening.“Do you want to take a break?” I asked after an hour, it was time to get some coffee anyway. He nodded and we went to the shop around the corner.“You don’t have to pay for coffee?” he asked, surprised when the coffee shop owner handed me and Elyan our cups then shook my hand and walked away.“Free healthcare is a form of payment if you work at the clinic. Everyone else pays in their own way.”“That’s incredible.”“I know.” I smiled softly. “It’s something Merlin and Gaius came up with for the village. We all help out and we all have a job to do.” We stopped at a bench and sat down. “It’s sort of the same thing we were doing in other villages. Helped them build houses and they offered us free food.”“Yeah,” he said. Still looking distracted.“Alright, out with it,” I said, impatient of the way he’d been acting.“Gwen thinks that they want to go back to Nemeth, to get married.” I nodded. I figured it was going to happen sooner or later. They didn’t really have much here and Lance was quite close with his family. “So I’ll be going with them for the wedding.”“Okay…”“I thought, maybe after I return, you and I can live together where Gwen and Lance are now.”“I’m with Merlin,” I said. It was the first time I’d said it out loud. It was the truth, wasn’t it? I was with Merlin.“I know, for now. But don’t you want to have your own place? Gwen said it was a temporary situation.”“No, Elyan.” My voice was stern, firmer than I intended it to be. “I'm with Merlin.”“Oh, I did not realise. I thought you two were just...mates. I didn’t know—when did this happen?”“Last night.”“Last night?”And this morning, I thought, but chose not to say that. “Yeah. It seems your arrival finally gave me the edge I’d been waiting for...with him. I finally made him come to terms with his feelings.”“Oh, I didn’t realise I was still a viable option, until last night.”I sighed. I was more annoyed than I’d led on. “It’s the same with you, isn’t it?” I asked.“Arthur, I don’t understand.”“You and me. I tried not to think about it. I let it go for years. You were always like this. You knew I was gay from the start and you’d toy with me, to see how much I would actually do for you. Then this plague happened and everything was calm and we were travelling. But the moment we were alone together, we shared something and you...ran. Now you’re back. I’m with someone that I actually—”“Actually what?” he asked. The nerve.“Love, Elyan. I love him.” He looked surprised. I would say shattered as well, but I knew he was acting. “And now you’re here, you want us to be together, now, after fifteen years of toying with me.”“I’m not toying—”“I don’t believe you and I don’t even care.” I stood up and tossed my leftover coffee. “I'm late for my shift. Maybe you should go and find employment elsewhere.” I walked away without turning back and didn’t stop until I’d reached the Potions’ Lab in the clinic.I was looking for Merlin; I wanted to feel him against me even if it was just for a hug and a small kiss. Except, he wasn’t there. I returned to the patients’ room and Gaius stood by a bed looking worried. Merlin was lying in that bed.“What happened?” I asked, rushing to his side.“Gwen found him, unconscious in the lab,” Gaius answered.“What’s wrong with him, Gaius?”“I don’t know. At the moment, nothing seems wrong. His fever is breaking; he’s just unconscious.” Gaius looked at me reassuringly. “His breathing is even and look, his colour is even coming back.”I knew that pale—almost white—colour wasn’t his true complexion.“Are you saying—”“He’s getting better, Arthur. I hope so, anyway.”“Hope so? Why is he not awake then?”“When he was first hit with the curse—when Freya hexed him with a spell—he was asleep for days. I reckon he just needs to sleep it off.”“Sleep it off? That’s not very reassuring, Gaius.” I looked at Merlin’s lifeless body on the hospital bed, and my heart was breaking. I had just finally had him with me, and now...he was just going to lie there for days, and I couldn’t do anything?“Just sit with him, Arthur,” Gwen said. She pulled on my arm, and had me sit down on the chair next to the bed. “Just relax, it’s going to be a long few days.”I don’t know what I thought was going to happen after we had sex. Maybe Freya’s curse was backfiring. Maybe he was only meant to mate with her and if he had sex with someone else, maybe that would kill him. Why didn’t I think of that? Why wasn’t it killing me?The rest of the day went by in a blur and I sat there, next to Merlin, staring at him. Gwen brought me lunch, and I barely ate it. I didn’t care for anything. I just wanted Merlin to wake up. I checked several times, he was breathing. His chest rose and fell evenly but when I shook him, he didn’t wake up. I held his hand, squeezed it, kissed it—but he didn’t wake up.“Arthur, it’s time to go.” Gwen came by one last time, trying to get me to leave.“I am staying here.”“You can’t stay here, you know they lock up the clinic.”“I know. I saw all the overnight patients were moved to the solitary cells. If Merlin is staying here, I am staying here.” I stood my ground and eventually Gwen left.An hour later, my stomach grumbled. I groaned. I should have asked Gwen to leave me some food. To distract myself, I began talking to Merlin. I told him all about my conversation with Elyan and about my history with him. I told Merlin I loved him. Nothing. Eventually, I leaned back in the chair and tried to make myself comfortable.“Good night, Merlin.”He said nothing. --* “Arthur, wake up.”It was morning. Gwen was standing by my side and Gaius was too close to my face looking into my eyes with a Retinoscope.“Ow, that’s bright,” I said and Gaius backed off.“Evidently that’s what I need to wake you up in the morning.” That voice belonged to Merlin.I immediately straightened up from my chair and looked towards the bed. Merlin was sitting up against the headboard and gleaming at me.“Are your eyes...extra blue?” I asked. Everything about him looked different. Good different. He looked alive.“There is no sign of the disease in Merlin,” Gaius said to me. “He’s been awake for hours and was just watching you sleep when we arrived.”“Stalker,” I said, and Gwen laughed.“Also, strangely enough…” I turned to look at Gaius who spoke again. “The patients that were all unconscious in the solitary cells have also awakened. They are not all as healthy as Merlin here, but I think they are going to make a full recovery.”“What are you saying, Gaius?” I asked. It sounded too good to be true.“I can’t say for certain, but it looks like the curse has been lifted. Freya can no longer harm Merlin or any of the other people of Ealdor anymore.”I stood up from the chair and hugged Gaius. It was the best news I’d ever received. If the curse had been lifted, that meant that it was no longer going to be transmittable. It meant that others that are affected in other villages would also eventually get better!“If you’re done cheering over there, I’d like to leave now.”I turned to say something to him when Gaius spoke. “You can leave if you’re able to walk but I need you to take the week off. I need you resting properly in bed!”“Can Arthur take me home?” Merlin asked, winking at me when Gaius had turned. “I mean, he’s the one who broke the curse and all.” I glared at Merlin. He always did have a habit of talking too much. I could feel my face getting red. “I’m sure I’ll need his help to get proper bed rest.”“Merlin!”Merlin slyly smiled and looked at Gwen. “We’re mated for life, you see.” He winked at her and she smiled softly. “Or at least that’s what he told Elyan.”“That’s not what I told El— Wait. You heard me?”“Yeah, you talk a lot, do you know that?” Merlin was beaming again. “I wanted to respond, but I couldn’t. It was as though I was screaming, but no voices were coming out.”“Looks like Freya really wanted you to suffer,” Gwen said. “Maybe she thought that if you were with someone else—even if the curse lifted—you’d still be trapped. Maybe it broke because of true love.”“Oh, Gwen. Not you too!” I groaned.“No, I’m serious, Arthur,” Gwen argued. “Lance’s aunt believes that’s why I was able to nurse him back to health. Because I loved him. You stayed with Merlin all night—because you love him.”“Okay, off you go,” Gaius said, thankfully interrupting the conversation. “I’ve got other patients to tend to and you can’t keep Gwen occupied here all day.”“Come on, Arthur. I need you to take me home and keep me occupied all day.” I shook my head but didn’t reply. There was no point in fuelling that fire. “Thanks for everything, Gaius. I’ll be back tomorrow.”“Tomorrow? I thought Gaius told you—”Merlin scowled at me. Yeah, there was no point arguing with him. He was going to be back at work the next day.We walked back home taking our time. We stopped for coffee and breakfast and talked. It turned out that Merlin could hear everything I had said, and he was glad that I’d told Elyan that I loved Merlin. I was happy to know that he loved me too. Not before he’d managed to call me a sappy teen-aged girl ten times in the conversation.We hadn’t been home since we left the morning before. I had no idea what Sania did or how she knew, but she’d managed to wash all of the linen and our beds were already pushed in together. I was glad that there were extra locks on the door that she didn’t have a key for.That day Merlin and I shagged on the bed in daylight for the first time. Everything I had imagined and loved about us in the darkness was only magnified when I was able to see him. It was better than anything. Better than the shower the day before.We dutifully returned to work the next day. I could never say no to Merlin, I obeyed whatever that mouth demanded.There were fewer patients in remission, and slowly but surely everyone who was getting cured stopped returning to the clinic. Merlin wasn’t so afraid to touch the patients anymore, and provided help with caring for them. Not just brewing potions.Gaius believed that Merlin had magic stored inside him—that’s why the curse hadn’t been entirely successful in killing him—and that his touch was also actually magical. The curse had left his body and he had become the transmissible cure. Hunith was the first to be pronounced completely healthy.The nights were still dangerous. The nightcrawlers were still out there, but the good news was that their numbers were dwindling. We hoped that one day we would be able to go dancing on a Saturday night out in the open and not in a cryptic cellar.Merlin and I liked staying home on Saturday nights anyway. Just as I had memorised the lay of the room in the dark, I had also committed Merlin’s body to my memory. The End

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